See that...up thar? That's me 'n Ken. Long ago. In a junk yard far.. far... away.
Examing your heart with a electroencephalopscope.
"How wonderful to be alive. I am sorry for forgetting." ~ inkskinned
“We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing." ~ Charles Bukowski
When the life inside no doubt has died.
And you turn your head away.
You tried to pay, but at the end of the day, it 's you again, alone.
Alone, confined. The mess in your mind.
When you can't relate to them.
You've reaped and sown, but little is known by those who aren't alone.
~ Ween
- Effective October 24, 2004, liha will be residing in Colorado.
- Update: 8/2006 - I quit smoking.
I will probably never node again. Never been much of a writer.. and now... well.. now ya'll intimidate the crap outta me. - Update: 2017. Hello. Wow. I still have nodes. Moved to WY. Had a kid at 40. I've always been a little behind..
- Update: October 2024. I feel like I opened a time capsule. Depression is still a bitch but the highs are so much fun. I miss this place. Maybe I'll node some. ^
liha dreams of eating samosas, owning and playing a hurdy-gurdy and mastering the art of disappearing .
Blaming your faults on your nature does not change the nature of your faults.
Thanks for everything. Hugs and kisses. X X X X Zero Zero Zero Zero
from an online poster
by Boggle the Owl
I don't like the phrase "a cry for help." I just don't like
how it sounds. When somebody says to me, "I'm thinking
about suicide, I have a plan; I just need a reason not to
do it," the last thing I see is helplessness.
I think: Your depression has been beating you up for years.
It's called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and a failure,
for so long that you've forgotten that it's wrong. You don't
see any good in yourself, and you don't have any hope.
But still, here you are; you've come over to me, banged on my
door and said, "Hey! Staying alive is really hard right now!
Just give me something to fight with! I don't care if it's
a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!"
How is that helpless? I think that's incredible. You're like
a marine: trapped for years behind enemy lines, your gun
has been taken away, you're out of ammo, you're
malnourished, and you've probably caught some kind of
jungle virus that's making you hallucinate giant spiders.
And you're still just going, "GIVE ME A STICK.
I'M NOT DYING HERE."
A "cry for help" makes it sound like I'm supposed to
take pity on you. But you don't need my pity. This isn't
pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans
lived long enough to become the dominant species.
With no hope, running on nothing, you're ready to cut
through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing
but a stick, if that's what it takes to get to safety.
All I am doing is handing out sticks.
You're the one staying alive.