Just The Good Days
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There's nothing wrong with me.
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I went out over the hill this morning and shot the action pistol match with my old man and my little brother. Those two can shoot. All us boys can. We had us a good time.
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Then I drove home. Walked the bulldog and gave her a bath and cleaned our little ship from stem to stern.
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All better now.
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I just wanted to say thank you to everyone here for your kindness. I can feel it, for sure.
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I think I'm gonna cook the woman on the verge a big old plate of vegan goodness for dinner. She ought to get a prize, the way she puts up with my shit.
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Namaste.
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posted by tearful dishwasher at 2:33 PM
9 Comments:
Yeah. We have to clean out the pipes sometimes. It happens. And then we wake up and the air is clear and the sheets feel so good against our skin and we realize we have been saved once again.
Another miracle.
That last post you wrote? I gave it like a gift to Mr. Curry. And he was so grateful to read it. Men need to read the thoughts of other men who live authentically. And who have suffered and suffer, and aren't afraid to talk about it. Thank you.
Ms. Moon-
True dat.
I feel much better now, and am standing in line with the newly saved.
yrs-
Scott
Maggie May-
Coolio.
Yeah, we men. We are almost as crazy as you women sometimes.
Ha.
What I don't understand is how some folks lie and deny about it.
"OF COURSE I'M FUCKED UP!" is pretty much my standard response.
But then I do try to fix it, whatever I've done. But if you don't see yourself as a half-retard it's much more difficult to admit you were wrong, and then it's much harder to start the process of unfucking things.
The circle of life, hakuna-matata, namaste, spiritual creaminess lesson over.
thank you.
yrs-
Scott
one of the truths that it is revealed from reading your posts over time is that we can wrestle the demons to the ground, get up, brush the soil off our hands, and go about our business, basking in the glow of a job well done. it's a blow, seems to me, to realize that we have to do this over and over and over again.
life with a partner who also sees this truth makes it easier to bear, and perhaps--not sure about this part--make the wrestling matches easier, less frequent?
(i'll let you know...). in the meantime, it's a comfort to know that you are out there, acknowledging the struggle, too.
and then there are the good days.
cheers,
susan
Susan-
What a delightful comment.
I think that you get at something vital about the whole human condition. The wrestling with demons part of it is not just some shitty thing that if we could get rid of would make our lives so much better.
It is the demon wrestling that makes it good.
but the demon has to let you win a little bit, or you just get smashed.
The Woman on the Verge and I were watching this silly PBS reality show about "Frontier Living", you know, three families, build their wood cabins, live like its 1882,
discover it's hard as fuck!!!
and either adapt to it or fail, or some combination of both.
Anyway, what you see is how our soft lives make us into soft people.
We were not made for too much comfort, and it sickens our souls. Like living on a diet of candy and ice cream.
A bowl of ice cream is only truly delicious and amazing if you eat it after you have spent all day running across the savannah chasing a wildebeest and spearing it and then dragging the carcass back to your fire circle while fighting off hyenas and then butchering it and cooking it over a fire and then, long after dark, opening the freezer and getting your Ben and Jerry's out and eating it under the blazing stars, next to the dying fire, surrounded by the call of wolves.
Then it's really good, I bet.
Thanks for sharing this journey with me.
I like the word "unfuck"
I like that you cook for your wife.
That's nice.
Peace,
pf
PS I forgot to mention. The image is spectacular! I don't know where you get the images you post. I know that you create some... maybe all? Anyway, I think it's groovy.
Petit Fleur-
"unfucking" stuff is at least as important as the other way round.
I'm glad you're enjoying the pics. I mostly grab stuff off the intertubes that I like for one reason or another and then combine as simply as I can to try to make a new thing that, although is not mine, didn't really exist before I started playing with it.
I don't even know if it's art. I don't know. It's digital collage, I guess, mostly. Is it mine? Did I make it? Or did I steal it? Yes.
Anyway. I love doing it, and I love sharing it with you guys.
thanks-
tearful
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