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The hidious Penguin Man spills his herring guts.

By trhansen ·
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The first of many thought spills.

by trhansen In reply to The hidious Penguin Man s ...

Insert blog text here... starting for the third time now!<br />Oh fucking fucking ****! This is my third time starting to write out my chaotic ever shifting vaccuous thoughts. (spelling is not a priority! If it looks strange just sound out the key-strokes to get a clue to what I was trying to write.) I am going to skip any introduction of myself. You can sift it out from context and inference. How's that for big words, eh? This is my "talk therapy" to myself so if you are reading this be prepared to ramble and wander through a strange and twisted web-scape. I will also end apruptly sometimes because something out of cyber-space has pulled me away. Enjoy if you can.<br />    I'm just going to write out what would be my verbal diarrhea. Blog it into cyber-space, for me and the other me too.<br />    I love this word "blog"! Yeah it is weB_Log but the sound fits to a T. <em>Blog</em>. <strong>B</strong>log? <strong><em>B</em></strong>log! Out pour my inane, meandering, vital neuron flashes to be <em>Blogged</em> into the vapid, ephemeral eternity of the electron exchange system we call the net. Neat juxtapositions of words, eh?<br />    I am deeply disturbed about existance right now. This new kidney stone is undoubtably tearing more damage to my over stimulated uriter and that means the chronic pain is going to be aggrivated for the rest of the year. I am so weary of constant pain. My 17th anniversary of never ending severe hurt is in mid August. The narcotics are interfering with cognition and perception (yes I really do talk this way...so there phthiiippt! [raspberries just aren't the same in print!]) more than controlling the pain. It is like having a shear veil streached thinly between my mind and the perception of the pain. The pain is still intense but I just can't work up the emotional effort to care about it. It is almost like empathising with someone who is hurt and you have been hurt like that before so you know , sorta, what they are experiancing.<br />    The pain rules every activity these days. I plan doctor visits by availability of someone to drive me there because the busses shake and bump too much. Every bump jarrs the wounds. Private vehicles are only somewhat better but go directly to the offices and less time travelling equals less pain.<br />    I waited till 11:00 PM to wash dishes up because I wanted the narcs to kick in enough to endure standing at the sink for 1/2 an hour.<br />    I can't sit on the couch through an hours tv or a movie without having to get up and take a lesser pain killer (Tylonol, Asprin, Ibeprophine, 222, etc.).<br />    I can't stay for all of church service because the pews are just hard enough, and the right shape to aggrivate my flank . To the point of wanting to shout profanities to drop the pain feelings and express my frustration. I like attending church. I like being with my friends and aquaintances. I like to volunteer for church activities and all of this is now subject to the pain, drugs, and all the other side effects (like lack of sleep due to waking in pain or drug effect).<br />    I can't spend much time at the computers anymore because the pain intrudes and forces a change in activity, or the drugs make it nearly imposible to read the screen (even images are unclear). This severly cuts into chat. I know it's a copout to use chat to feel connected to people but I am fed up with impersonal interpersonal exchanges face to face. I have never been good at interpreting socal cues and beeing stoned makes it even harder. Worse being constantly drugged up I say and do things I would never have expressed in public before Kidney Stone Day (KSD). This has earned me a reputation that makes it even harder to connect to others as they are wary of my erratic behavior. No baggage over the net (at least none influenced by a rep, I hope).<br />    This 18 year suffering bout has saddled me with deppresion that I also dumped on my wife (the most lovely one) and to some extent my son as well. Not that I wasn't depressed before. It is just a different cause. I still haven't sorted out the tangled mess of my chidhood and first family relationshoips. We are in detaunt I think. I don't contact them and they leave me alone. I still email mom out of a sense of duty. She still replies and still tries to stck the knife in and twist it. I think I should just end the contact but am conflicted about that too. She is my mom and I have been taught to "Honor your Parents" and that I owe the dept of life to her for birthing me. I wonder if that was paid by the 18 years of cruelty and hurt she gifted me. And then there's dad. He only communicates with me when he wants something. Damn, I still desperatly want their approval and, dare I say, love? I will never have either because they don't see anything amiss in how they have related to me. It is, after all, my own fault if there are "patches" in our kinship. I was the most difficult of children and mom did have six of us to raise. Dad was always away earning our livelyhood. I think he just couldn't stand being in a house filled with so much strife and emotional smash-up so he sought out work that took him away for weeks at a time.<br />    My relationship with Dawn's family is somewhat strained now too. I haven't been able to work a "steady" job since 2001. Her folks have helped us out greatly finacially and with most aspects of our lives. I think they belive I should knuckle under. pull up my bootstraps and provide for my family as good men do. I want to do this but the reality of it is that physically I have great challenges.<br />    Got too drop as my eyes have gotten unfocused and my thoughts are all fuzzy and hard to grasp. 

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Why...some parinoid musings

by trhansen In reply to The hidious Penguin Man s ...

Insert blog text here  I don't know why but I really like that "Insert blog text here" caption. It adds a vague something.<br />Remember that I couldn't spell my way out of a wet paper bag, so no critisim on that point.<br />    Now onto the real stuff. I am just annoied about the continuing news coverage about gay marriage. Who cares!? Putting a stamp of legitimacy on adultry, no matter what kind, doesn't make it any more acceptable. Procreative ability was not granted to mankind to be used as a few moments pleasure. It is to draw husband and wife closer together emotionally and to bring children into a family. Family , a father and a mother + kids, is the basis of any society. Children have an inheirant birthright to be raised by a male father and a female mother. Each bring something to their relationship with a child that the other cannot provide. Single parenting by either sex just leaves holes in a child's psych. Double parenting by either sex just doubles the problem.<br />Thats the political spewage and I will stick to it.<br />    Just drop it! People are going to do what they want to regardless of a political stamp of legitimalcy. Adultery between heterosexuals has been illegal from time immemoriable but it isn't enforced because too many people do it. This doesn't make the damage to relationships, families, and persons any less. Law does't need to provide punishment because it is a direct consequence of the act. I think this is the same for homosexuallity as well. AND just because people have grown numb to the results of their actions doesn't mean the consequences are not happening. Anesthesia in no way heals the wound.<br />    And how do I reconcile my own unnatural lust. Well I've always been very attracted to males. A strong preferance for male pets and male friends. Why? It has been this way from my earliest memories. In my case it was the persecution from my mother and the distance my father always put between us. An older sister and two younger sisters before my two too young brothers showed up contributed to my female alienation. The settings of our families dwellings was usually isolated as well so forming lasting bonds with males was not readily available. Not being a farm kid in a school of farmers kids, having neighbors that were a generation older than my parents meant no neighboorhood boys to be friends with.<br />    So what has this to do with a strong desire to be close, even intiment, with other men? Not knowing the dynamics of male bonding my need for friendship was interprited as a sex desire. All my fantasies were about emotional closness and not physical sex. I was curious about what other men looked like because I had only me to compare with. How was I to know if I was normal physically and in my psyche? I was so glad when the internet arrived because I could track down pictures and opinion blurts with anominity. No more sneeking sidelong glances and risking further alienation in the locker rooms. No more red faced borrowing of anatamy textbooks from the library. But the best relief came from learning that every other male is sneeking peeks and was just as worried as I about being a normal man.<br />    Heres to the discovery of heteralsexual male disfunctional normal worry.

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God damned terror wanna bes

by trhansen In reply to The hidious Penguin Man s ...

<em><strong> Insert blog text here</strong></em> ... Three thirty in the morning, well actually its five to four but I still cannot sleep. As a chronic pain doer, having insomnia from an early age, plus being diagnosed with Restless Leg (limb in my case) Syndrom sleep proves elusive most nights. Thankfully my sleep deprived brain spurts can now be recorded for all to dement over.<br />    I've been thinking a lot about these 17 terrorists aressted in Canada this last week. Why do we stil call them terrorists? We used to call them traitors, thugs, gangs, and murderers. I think we should go back to the good old days when terror attakes were new and we thought of people who targeted inocent others as evil criminals. When did the title Terrorist pick up the suffering-patriot-who-has-no-other-outlet-to-effect-change icon? These 17 people are citizens of Canada targeting other citizens of Canada. They had every leagal and peaceful way of advancing their cause but went straight to the KILL option. Why? They are outside of the troubles and problems of the mid-east, some by a whole generation. They had all the time they were alive to work at change but wanted to kill instead. I know how easy it is to just consider those around you as objects available for your use but even then you don't break your toys. With all the media coverage, right down to blogs, it is the novel peacefull protests that corners the thoughts and feelings of people and, as large numbers of people have shown countless times in history, small dedicated groups can convince people to effect change. The French and American revolutions started with the disgruntled few who got the rest of their peers to look beyond their daily existance to a better situatiuon. Yes violence ensued but not until all the peacable paths were explored. It cannot be said of these Terrorists and frankly all they make me think about is capitol punishment.<br />    Now on to other brain droolings. I am currently being stubborn about taking the narcotic perscribed to ease pain that breaks through the everyday narcotic easement. I am just so sick of drugs. I am sick of having constant nausia, constant cramping, and constant fuge. I am certainly glad that there are drugs available and send a heartfelt smooch of thanx to those who developed and made available such drugs. It lets me be fed up with taking them rather than having been a decade dead from not being able to tolerate the pain. I think. But it doesn't stop the feelings of "out of control" that acompany being dependant on outside resources to regulate internal processies. (say that five times as fast as you can!) I've gotten past the "why,o' why me?" phase of greving so I must be on ... I'll have to look it up.<br />    I was watching the movie "The Chronicals of Riddick" and keyed into a few lines that outline a "Necromonger" fudament. "They are learning that one pain can lessen anouther." I learned this ahile ago as psyche fought physical for pain inducement. Heartbreak versus heart-attack sort of thing. Thankfully my pain is not life threatening unless you count the seductiveness of suicide as a pain releaver.<br />    Oh well, que sera ... time to give in and slip under medicated mindlessness.

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The third most awful day.

by trhansen In reply to The hidious Penguin Man s ...

Insert blog text here...like an enema.<br /> Well and good, anouther night has come and reality sucks my big one (I wish!). I'm depressed. I've had to struggle against depression from before the age of ten. That was my first sucide attemp and it was a total failure in every way. Afterward I was left feeling more down than when I attemted to die. It seemed to me that God wouldn't even let me escape the horrors of my existance. What can you do when God is against you?<br /> I feel like that tonight. Like mother's day, father's day is a deeply unhappy occasion for me, especially when being mormon means putting mucho grande importance on families. I have always thought the slogan "Families can be together forever" was a dire threat not a hopefull opertunity. The truth is I hurt my family and they hurt me. I don't want to have anything more to do with them, and that is heresy.<br /> I think this hurts so much because I can't be quit of them. Family ties bind and gag you. No matter how carefully you hide, you remain connected to your family, even if it is genetics only.<br /> Not that my dad was a bad guy. No, he tried to be a good father but as a good husband he did what my mom said needed to happen, to support her in her role. He probably knew that mom was "not guite right" in how she treated me and my sibs. He tried several jobs that let him be home at nights but the family dynamic drove him to take work that let him stay away for days (to weeks) at a time. To his credit he did keep us alive through the poverty. There were times when supper was one bowl of home made bread with freash milk given to us by our neighbor. That sounds attractive but when you are really hungery, off to bed after, and know that there will not be different food in the morning, if there is food at all, leaves you hollow. All the bills were paid but as a kid that just doesn't comfort you. You can't understand you won't be kicked out of your cold house into the winter nights, or have no heat or lights at all. You just feel the hunger.<br /> Now I no longer feel hungry. I have to moniter that feeling of energy and eat when I start to feel faint.<br /> How do you honor the dad that scared you by snapping the "Leather Belt" together before spanking you for not going to sleep soon enough? I have been informed that being struck ten to 20 times on the bared buttocks, leaving deep bruises is actually a beating. What do you get the man that frightened you out of the house when he was on his days off by being so grumpy and so quick to hurt you that adverse weather was the better choice? It was far better to brave sun, wind, rain, and cold than be spanked for being too loud as you played. What card is applicable to the guy who made your memories of fun times, together or on a family outings, always end with with memories of various punishments for what is now considered normal chid behavior?<br /> I am actually greatfull for one unexpected outcome from my relationship with my father. I wanted so desperatly to not ever be like him that I have been a fairly good dad to my son. As good as broken goods can be anyway.

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