I had a heated conversation with someone over what it is to be a “minimalist”. I realized that there are probably a few readers of my site that don’t fully understand what I am trying to do in my life, and what I am striving for.
“This one goes out to the one[s] I love.”– R.E.M.
I bought some items yesterday for the first time in a long time. Granted, I had to trade in things to Vintage Stock to get to money to spend, but I was able to purchase things nonetheless.
For someone who used to spending money occasionally, this was a thrill. I finally got to impulse buy since losing my job, and I didn’t have to worry about the consequences, as long as I stayed within my means.
I have reflected on my past year online, only to realize that I am still searching for the cure to my mental illness.
BTW, there is no cure.
A lot has changed since I last logged onto I Fart Online, and I needed some time to get my shit together.
Consider my shit “somewhat” together.
During one of my shifts at my job as an ophthalmic tech, I was preparing a patient to see the doctor. He was in his sixties and in excellent spirits and health. No actual problems on the surface — mind you, this was before the doctor had seen him. I don’t know how we got onto the subject, but he started to talk about his childhood. It seems that when you are in a field where you are in a “one on one” situation with another person, they sometimes feel like they can open up to you, or tell you things about themselves that weren’t relevant to the case.
Bartenders can sympathize.
This is a story all ’bout how my life got twisted upside down… Will Smith, from ”The Fresh Prince of Bel Air”
Now that I got that stuck in your head, I’ll continue.
But, before I start, did you know Steve Winwood wrote the song ”Blind Faith” that appeared in 1989’s ”Masters of the Universe” movie? Man, that movie sucked.
(Note to self: ”Watch ’Masters of the Universe’ this weekend.”)
Anyway, this is how I came from having a psychotic break, to have the best time of my life, at least for the moment.
Always the pessimist.
Let me start from the beginning.
I’m having a hard time lately with energy and sleep patterns. I would come home and “crash,” wake up to take my medications, and then go to bed, and wake up before the alarm would go off.
I’m sitting here at lunch, going over in my head my last physical. Just like everyone else my age, we have to have blood work. I waited a short amount of time before the nurse called me on the phone with my results. It turns out that A) my glucose level was more elevated than in the past labs, and B) my liver enzymes were high.
Fuck. Welcome “prediabetes.” Again.
Those of you that follow me on Facebook have seen my tattoos, and each one tells a different story. My “live life” on my wrists is to remind me that there is always another way than committing suicide, my “Quoth the Raven ‘Nevermore'” is an homage of my love of Edgar Allan Poe, plus a reminder of a time when my mom and I would watch old Hammer horror films starring Vincent Price, Basil Rathbone, and Peter Cushing. My symbol on my right arm is a symbol that I have drawn and altered for 28 years, almost like a signature in symbolic form, not unlike the artist Prince went by a symbol at one time to rebel against his record label at the time and finally be his “own” entity. Now, on my writing hand, covering my finger and thumb that I clutch my favorite writing instrument, I got the tattoo, “write with might” to remind me to write with feeling, with emotion, with all the power I can muster and make something that each time I’m proud of, not just something that should be thrown in the trash because it’s another rehash of something that someone did better.
A little extreme? Maybe. But, once again, it means something to me, and it’s another conversation starter that lets others into my world, one more ink at a time.
DISCLAIMER: As most of the people that read my blog, or talk to me in person, I’m sarcastic, cynical, nihilistic, crude — hell, I could keep going, and it’s not just that I’m beating up on myself. It’s the truth. Seriously, I have difficulty taking things seriously sometimes, and I have a way of saying things that some, if not a lot of people, may not agree.
To that end, what I am about to write about is an important topic, and I’m not going to hold any punches back, but I need to get this out of my system. I need people to realize that there is “hope.”
Here we go.