Life, My Life, Ramblings, Whatever and Everything in Between and Behind

It snowed today.  So?  I have to drive around in it all day so it matters to me and it sucks.  Everytime shit happens, it shows me how much of a beta personality I have.  My coworkers and I met at a parking lot to exchange packages (I deliver stuff for a job).  I pretty much was able to get out no problem but once I did, I decided to stop to make sure this other guy could get out OK.  That’s where I screwed myself.  Once you stop you lose the momentum and you can get stuck on the tiniest of inclines.  I knew I should have just took off.  Screw people.

After spinning my tires for a few minutes, the most remarkable thing happened.  A police officer came by and offered to push me out with her vehicle.  She had one of those ramming things on the front end of her car.  She managed to get me out and this other beta feeling came over me.  I felt guilty about all the not so nice things that go on in my head sometimes.  It made me feel guilty for ever even considering the thought of being a criminal of some sort.

That was the first time I ever had a positive experience with a police officer.  Growing up, all they ever did was harass us.  They’d pull us over for next to no reason and search our cars and the whole 9 yards.  I never had any respect really for any cops.

It got me to thinking how are lives are shaped by the experiences we encounter on a daily basis.  If you are surrounded by people who are always doing good then your outlook on life would be different.  Or maybe I’m just a pussy.  There’s this guy at work who I think is annoying and I show my disinterest with communicating to him.  He’s not really a bad guy, just annoying.  One time after not being so enthused with him he said to me, “you know what.   I don’t think there were enough people in your life who were nice to you.”  What the hell?  I couldn’t believe he said that to me.  But ya, maybe it’s true.

It’s always easy to see and understand the physical aspects of life.  Most people realize that they are going to get old and their body won’t work as well as it once did.  Hardly anyone ever sees the mental aspect of it though cause it just can’t be seen and can be so easily denied.  We know at least a little about what we should do to keep our body healthy but we’re never very sure how to stay mentally stable.

I think mind and body are connected and work the same way.  If you want to keep your body healthy you have to provide it with the nutrients it needs.  To keep it all together mentally is a whole other ball game.  You can go through a lifetime feeding your mind with poison without knowing it.  It’s so difficult to see any hope with being positive sometimes cause it can’t be proven with science.  You know if you eat better you will lose weight.  You know if you work out you will get stronger.  There’s visual evidence of this.

Just like physical health, sometimes you just have to start somewhere to get the ball rolling.  Not doing anything and telling yourself it won’t work out is the most negative mindset you can have.  We’re all victims of our environment though.  It’s a survival thing.  Also, just like your body, if you neglect your mind it just deteriorates as you get older.

Sometimes I wish I could convince myself that I’m truly depressed so I can have an excuse.  You can say I’m depressed cause I’m hardly ever happy but I know it’s more of an issue with never being on the same page as anyone around me.  I have no issues with being able to be happy if the right circumstances occur but when you don’t mesh well with society it’s often a downer.  Being depressed seems to have a whole lot to do with not belonging in some way with the majority.  If you can’t hold a shitty job you’re depressed.  If you don’t want to talk to people cause you think they are stupid, you are depressed.  If you think all these things people chase are stupid, you are depressed.

I went through most of life feeling inadequate.  There was always an insecurity about not being competent.  That’s all happiness is really, feeling competent.  You feel like a loser when you feel you can’t compete or compete and lose.  This is why happiness is measured in different ways in different parts of the world.  It’s just about competency with the standard in your society.

When you’re young, you are often unintelligent cause you are too confused and overtaken by fear, nonsense and insecurity.  People will always make you feel like shit in some way if you don’t measure up to what they think is successful.  They need to do this to make themselves feel better.  You give them positive reinforcement everytime you put your head down or put yourself down.  If you ever look them in the eye and intelligently justify why you do the things you do, then they have nothing.  Better yet, question them why they do what they do cause no one ever does.  No one questions anyone who follows the status quo.  They are never prepared for such questions and will feel like baboons cause there’s really no respectable answer usually for their way of life.

I think that anyone who has a pretty smooth life without ever being ostracized is often the most boring unintelligent person.  When you never have to struggle or question life, you become an idiot who can only coexist with other idiots who compliment your idiotness.  It’s OK though.  You can’t blame anyone for who they are.  But it’s still annoying.  Sometimes when you talk to an egotistical insecure human being, it’s worse than talking to a wall cause at least a wall never says anything stupid.

Intelligence is always blocked by human emotions.  People only like to see what makes them feel good or not so bad.  Once you put your feelings aside and ask yourself the simple questions, the answer is clear.  It may not be romantic but it’s clear.  Ignorance is gone and most often so is the bliss.

I’ll never forget these last 2 years of my life, no matter what happens.  It’s been a time of isolation, substances, truths, writing and a clearer view of people and life.  People are shit sometimes.  You are in each other’s lives cause you’re benefiting somehow and once that benefit stops, there’s nothing.  The obligations might still be there but the emptiness that goes along with it is as well.  Cultural obligations are not that strong.  You can see through them after a while and it’s gay.  If people don’t want to do something and they don’t benefit, they will try their best to do it as little as possible.  Everyone needs to benefit in some way.  Some ways are just more genuine than others.

I think relationships and marriages don’t work out because it’s treated like a business.  What can I get from this person?  How can I get the upper hand?  Just like a business though, once one person does not follow through, it’s the beginning of the end.  But as long as you can sustain the business then it’s all good.  But 9 out of 10 businesses fail in the first year.  It’s easy to see how something fails when it’s based on numbers but when it’s based on emotions and ideas it’s a different story.

They say your spouse should be like your best friend and I agree with that.  I never see it though.  No one sees or treats their spouse like a best friend.  They usually treat them like tools.  You would never make your best friend do shit that they wouldn’t want to do.  You never tell them they have to do anything.  You would never disrespect them in a way where it’s degrading.

Being lonely is the one of the worst things ever.  That’s why people do everything they do.  To prevent loneliness.  No guy is going to university to impress his guy friends.  No one quits their job cause then they won’t have money to be with people and do the things people do.  Guys give up their fortune in hopes to land a wife even in the most shadiest ways.

Money seems to mean nothing in the face of death and unhappiness.  You could work 20 years and saved up bunch of money but you would give up that money in an instant for your own life or a loved one.  People are always looking for what humans were all suppose to get in the natural world.  Companionship and a reason to live.

One thing that I stay away from is having dinner with people I don’t know.   You’re like a sitting duck for discomfort if you don’t fit in and I never fit in that well.  I’ve never really fit in but I got by in life from being a good friend and a comedian.

I hated working jobs my whole life.  I would always work them and save money and quit.  I hated people having power over me so I would never commit to anything.  I didn’t want my job to own me and it never really did.  I could tell my boss to eat shit right now and it wouldn’t be the end of the world.  I’ve never had car payments, mortgage, serious girlfriend cause I was always scared of being locked in.  If you wanted to blame it on my childhood you could say I was ruled by dictators who always gave me shit for anything.  You could blame my childhood for anything really but I don’t know if it’s the origin of my personality.  

I do suffer from being able to give love and to be able to receive it as well.  I don’t know, maybe I’m too used to being alone and never having anyone showing me any kind of love as a kid.  Not knowing my father never bothered me but it must have made me different.  On top of that never seeing my mother and growing up with a truck driving dictator.  I don’t think I ever had any chance of being ‘normal.’

I resent my mother sometimes.  She only ever gave a shit about money.  On my phone, I have her listed at &^^&#%^ cause I hate seeing ‘mom.’   My mom’s track record is one of lies and coldness.  I feel sorry for her too cause she lived a shitty life.  She’s worked 60 hour weeks, 6 days a week for about 40 years.  She’s never been on a plane since she immigrated here.  Her life is series of failed relationships and work.  I can’t blame here that much either cause she doesn’t know any better.  I guess you can call her stupid. What kind of son calls his mom stupid? I do and I don’t care..hahaha.   But yet, I feel a duty to her cause she has no one else.

You can be a Chinese guy that was born here, like myself but never really fully understand the Canadian culture which is similar to all western culture.  I speak English but I don’t speak Canadian English sometimes.  There’s a lot of mannerisms, humour, etc that you will miss out on if you are Asian.  If your parents don’t speak English and your friends parents don’t speak English, that’s a lot of English that you are missing out on that a typical white person would have.  If you are white, imagine all the things you learned from your parents never happened.  That’s how it is when you’re Asian cause your parents don’t teach you anything except, go to school and work hard.

Western culture is all about rights and upholding a comfortable life whenever the culture see’s fit.  I think it’s just part of evolution.  When things get easy then people get lazy.  Comfort has been around for many westerners for decades.  Asians are just starting to live this life of comfort.  You will hardly ever see a broke Asian cause having money is too new and exciting for us.  Although, many people would say I’m pretty broke for a 33 year old.  They talk about how bad the Great Depression was but for Asian people their whole lives was a Great Depression or at least a depression.  There’s never been a booming 50’s for us.

On the outside Asian families look so great but often it’s just a charade.  There’s hardly any love in an Asian household.  That’s why Asian guys sell dope even though their family appears to be middle class.  The only reason why Asians have a house and some money is usually because they are so cheap.  Western culture puts a lot of emphasis on having fun and living life.

Guys will sell dope if they have no one to disappoint and if they have the opportunity.  Asians don’t respect their parents cause their parents don’t understand the western culture and expect their kids to live life like they did.

On a side note, 3 black guys were hired in our company in the last 2 years and now they’ve all been fired.  Their manager is white.  I’m not saying anything but it’s just funny.  People ask me why they got fired and the first thing I say is, “because they’re black.”  I don’t know, it’s just funnier than saying something like, “ummm, he was late too many times.’   I warned the latino guy from Los Angeles that he’s next.

Since being on WordPress, I’ve come to see a few things.  There’s a shitload of people who want to be writers.  There’s always people trying to teach you how to make money blogging.  There’s a lot of fake likers.  There’s these inspirational blogs that are quite common as well.  I think that’s bullshit cause they never end up sticking around very long.  It’s one of those things where they had a rush of positivity but they probably came back to reality.  More than anything most of the time, I think people write blogs cause they are lonely in some way.  It seems pretty messed up to spend time writing shit, hoping people will read and like it.

Well, perhaps I should end this long ass blog post.  If you’ve made it this far, I’m flattered.  I mean it.  What is a good writer anyway?  I never really understood it.  Is it the way they describe things?  Or is it the ideas that they transfer to words?  I don’t really read so I don’t have much of an opinion on the matter.

What’s up with fat women wearing Lulu Lemon yoga pants.  You know if you lost some weight(a lot of weight) you would look much sexier in cheap clothes that fit well.  Fashionable clothing is for non-fat people.  It’s hard to be fat, fashionable and look good.  It’s so fucked up that people will spend large amounts of money on clothes that will never make them look attractive cause they’re too fat.  It’s like giving up on losing weight to look better.  And it’s not your metabolism it’s cause your a gluttonous sloth.

People always say they can’t do things but the truth is they don’t want to which is fine but don’t lie to yourself.  Once you tell yourself you can’t do something, you sabotage yourself with denial.

When I was in grade 1 they put me in ELC which stood for English Learning Centre.  This was for people whose English was not up to snuff.  Mine was alright but I was so quiet that they thought my English sucked.  1st day in that class they kicked me out cause they realized I was just a mute.  They should have brought me to see someone when the teacher made every kid smile before they could leave and I was the lone kid sitting by himself cause everyone else had smiled.  She kept egging me to smile but I just stared at her and wouldn’t do it.  I couldn’t fake smile and I still can’t.  She just got fed up and let me go.

I have something to admit if you haven’t already guessed.  I’m high on MDMA.  People usually do it with other people but I have no one to do it with or want to do it with so I did some on my own.  I guess you can say it’s an anti-depressant.  Or you could just say it’s a stimulant like caffeine, sugar, speed, sex, junk food.   Life is all about stimulation whether it’s drugs, constant smartphoning, TV, spending money, vacation.

If you’ve gotten this far you must hate me…hahaha.   This is like my longest post of absolutely nothing and everything.  I have some teenage readers and I don’t know how I feel about that.  I feel like I’m breaking the law or something or that I’m doing something immoral communicating with teenagers.  Then again that Harry Potter author’s fan base is primarily teenagers, I think.  I find it kind of odd how any teenager would read my blog cause it doesn’t seem like a blog that a teenager would like.  Most teenagers would just make fun of me for being a loser..hahaha.   I think with the internet, younger people have the opportunity to become really aware but also retarded.  But the opportunity to be able to be this aware of what’s going on was never available in the past.  Being retarded was and always will be.

I’ve realized with drugs, if your metabolism is good, you get high way quicker.  When I was a lethargic piece of crap, it would take forever for drugs to kick in.  Now it’s so fast cause I’m healthier.  Hahaha, you like that one didn’t you.

People do MDMA and go party, I take it and write a blog post. Hahaha.  I guess my fingers are doing the dancing.  I guess you can’t leave me yet, cause I’m not tired yet.  In America they categorize drugs by ‘schedules.’   1 being the worst.  Marijuana and MDMA are on that list cause they conceive them to have no medicinal use whereas heroin and cocaine are scheduled 2 cause they apparently do.  So retarded.

Holy shit, you must be bored by now.  Unless if you were bored before even reading this, then in that case reading my bullshit might have given you some entertainment.  Debra, are you still reading? Do you hate me yet? hahaha.

Thanks Debra for always reading.  You have been my longest regular reader.  I am flattered by it and still don’t understand why you read my stuff.  Maybe better that I don’t know, otherwise it may interfere with my writing.  If I have just 1 reader then it’s worth it for me to do this.  I miss the dogs.  They are awesome.  I would love to have a Jada and Blitz duo.  They get along so well and are so much fun.  Say hi to the dogs for me and tell Jim he is an asshole.  Or if he is reading this with you then “hey Jim, you are an asshole.” Just joking.  I hate that I feel I have to say that I’m joking sometimes cause I almost always am but am too fearful that people will take it the wrong way.

This is the blog post that never ends.  I’ve probably wiped out 10 posts into one.  Don’t worry, I’ll always have something to write about.  I don’t think I’m going to even attempt to proofread this one.  I read my old posts and I always see so many obvious grammar mistakes that make me look like a fool but oh well.  I think grammar is important for not confusing the reader but if it’s not confusing then I don’t think it’s a big deal.

It was back in the early 2000’s that I realized the American government was a sham.  I guess most governments are but America made it so obvious.  I could not believe George Bush Jr was the President of the United States.  I knew it had to be a sham cause this guy couldn’t get a job at a fast food joint on his on merit.  Then he got re-elected and that solidified my suspicions.  The whole invading Iraq after 911 seemed ridiculous.  There were no weapons of mass destruction found but they still went in anyway against UN approval and after the whole thing was over they still didn’t find anything.

The scariest thing is that the whole world is convinced that politics is a sham but nothing happens.  The people in power keep doing things for devilish reasons and everyone accepts it.  It’s almost as if the government is flexing its muscles saying, “ya you know we did it, and so what?”

I think it’s time to wrap this baby up.  I’d like to thank you all for coming out tonight or morning.  I enjoyed this.  Then again, I’m high so I would enjoy anything almost.  Except getting raped by a large black man.  Black guys should have t-shirts that read, ‘you think I have a big penis.’  That’s how popular black people are.  We have like 4 black people in Vancouver but I’ve seen so many on TV that it distorts my image of what black people are all about yet I get all the stereotypes and jokes about fried chicken and watermelon.  I’m starting to not make sense now.

I just thought of something weird.  You know how you hear a song on the radio that you’ve heard a million times, you have it stored somewhere, you have the CD but when you hear it come on the radio the feeling is so much better cause it was a surprise and it took you from zero to almost hero.  Also, you know in the back of your head that once it’s over it’s over so you enjoy the moment that much more.  There’s this saying by Alan Watts.  Something about if you can picture you future then you probably don’t want it cause you had it already.  A good life is all about the surprises.  I think what he means by, “you’ve had it already” is that you lived that dream already but just in a different way but the feeling is the same.  I don’t know.  Maybe I’m totally off.

When’s this guy going to stop?  Sorry, I’m kind of unoccupied.  TV shows don’t engage me like they did before.  I’d rather write on this thing hence the 240 posts.  Most people don’t last this long on the WordPress thing.  They seem to come and go.  I think some have real lives to live and others are discouraged by their lack of readership.  This damn blog has been therapy for me and probably torture for others but we all get a voice on the web.  I write the stuff I do cause I find not many people do.  I like to demolish myself in front of you cause it’s liberating.  Okay, THE END…

For a treat for making it this far or being smart for scrolling through my mess, I will reveal my identity.  I don’t reveal which company I work for or my face cause I’m afraid someone at work will find this blog and I will be the buttend of jokes.  Plus I’m prone to saying stupid shit that would probably get me fired.

Here you go.  My mug with my laundry hanging in the background.

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Emotions for Life

I was watching this documentary, A Place at the Table on Netflix last night about how 50 million Americans are hungry.  I thought it was a joke at first cause they were showing all these fat people saying how they had no food.  It brought back memories of when I watched the movie Fargo.  As the show went on, it explained how it wasn’t really a shortage of food but a shortage of real food.  They weren’t earning enough money and supermarkets were too far for them to access without spending all their time and money travelling.  This situation has led them to survive off food stamps that only afford them packaged foods like cookies, ramen noodles and canned food.  Fruits and vegetables are rare in their neighbourhoods because it’s not economically worth it for companies to transport such produce to their neck of the woods.  It’s just another sad case of economics and politics failing humanity when it doesn’t have to.

While watching this show, it made me value my situation.  I began to look at my employment more positively and ate a banana and orange right after the show.  It also made me realize that living life is all about the emotions that fuel it.  Emotions are the energy that put a life into motion.  Without emotions, life is stagnant.

In order to feel there is a purpose in life there needs to be fear, anger, love, desire or some emotion that emanates from natural human instinct or a belief in something even if it’s bordering on fantasy.   Not just a bit of emotion but an abundance of it.  Although watching this documentary brought about a bit of fear and appreciation, it’s likely momentary cause that’s not my situation.  The emotions are short-lived cause the show was less than 2 hours of my life.

Feeling comfortable is a feeling of nothing and a comfortable ride often becomes a ride that you want to get off of sooner or later, unless if you believe you have to stay on.  Maybe you’ll jump on to a better ride or maybe you’ll fall and hit your face full of asphalt but either way you’re going to feel something.

 

 

 

Long Lost Family

A couple years ago, I was having dim sum at a restaurant with my mother and 2 of my aunts.  During our meal I get a tap on my shoulder.  I turn around and see this Chinese guy around my age with long hippie hair.  A Chinese guy with long hair is about as rare as a Chinese person who wears a turban.  Well, maybe not but pretty damn rare.  I was sure I had never seen this guy in my life.

“Is your name _____?”, he asks.

I was hesitant but I confirmed that was my name.  He goes on to tell me with a smile that he is my cousin.  I already knew what was going on.  I have never met my father so I concluded that this hippie Chinese guy was from his side.  He said his mother recognized my mother and figured I was probably her son.

I looked over to his table, curiously wondering if my dickhead father might have been sitting there.  He wasn’t and luckily for both of us he wasn’t cause I’d might have gone over there to extort him for 34 Christmas and birthday presents.  It was my ‘cousin’s’ mother, girlfriend and older brother who were over there.  For whatever reason they decided to come up to introduce themselves and shake my hand like I was some kind of hero who got his balls shot off in a war.  I felt uncomfortable cause I didn’t feel the same warmth from DNA that they must have.

My 2 aunts were silent during the whole exchange but after, one of them blurted out something about them not being my real family.  My aunts are single and are in not so great health.  They were probably scared I might switch teams and leave their soon to be decrepit lives in the future.  When people get old their most valuable resource are people who can help them wipe their ass and chew their food for them.  My aunts aren’t old yet but they will be one day soon and they know this.

My mother was all for this reunion cause my mother is stupid like most Asian parents.  “They are your cousins!”  Seriously?  I know them as well as some bum off the street.  My ‘cousins’ ended up leaving me their email addresses on a napkin and told me to “keep in touch.”   I took the napkin but had no intention of contacting them unless if for some reason I could benefit off them.

I don’t know if it’s cultural or maybe instinctual but people can sometimes get a warm fuzzy feeling when they are reunited with long lost family.  There’s supposed to be this instant bond that happens even though you are complete strangers with no history together.  I’ve bumped into them a couple times after at the same restaurant and have avoided that place since.  My mother was always eager to meet with them after cause she’s lonely and makes poor decisions because of it.  Maybe one day I will meet my 2 half brothers when I swoop in and steal some of their inheritance.

A Passion for Hope

When you’re in your teenage years and 20’s, you hear a lot of positive and inspiring ideas that seem so possible.  One of them is something about ‘passion.’  Apparently when you find this passion, your life will be forever blessed and will overshadow any hardship that comes your way.

– Follow your passion.

– Everyone has a passion in life.  You just have to find it.

I’ve always sort of believed that kind of talk, mostly cause I wanted to and not because I had reason to really believe it.  The only passion I ever had was the passion for hope.

– You have a passion, you just haven’t found it yet.

I suppose I can’t deny that cause I haven’t found it yet and I’m not dead yet so anything is possible.  It’s also possible that Jesus Christ will meet me at the light at the end of the tunnel but I’m not so sure I believe that either.

Passion:   strong and barely controllable emotion

That’s pretty intense.  The only time one feels that kind of emotion is when the survival emotions kick in like anger, fear or stress.  My passion for hope is derived from my fear of hopelessness.   The fear of not having a reason to want to live.  I think having a passion is mistaken for what is actually a purpose.  A purpose, meaning the reason why we do anything that we do.

Having a passion is just a glorified term for having a reason to live.  Poor people have a passion to eat.  When you get attacked by a bear you have a passion to come out of it alive.  Outside of survival, the only passion that exists is the passion to pretend that you have a passion.

I don’t think anyone wants to think that they will never find their passion in life.  It’s almost saying that you will never be that excited about living.  That’s depressing and hopeless.

Passion can be defined as being short lived but I feel that this thing in life that we’re suppose to be passionate about is intended to be forever.  Passion does exist in some people’s lives at one time or another but without any rewards from that passion, that passion fades. Does that count as being passionate about something?  Famous and talented musicians began with a passion for their craft but if they never received any positive reinforcement for their work, I think the passion would have died.

The belief of there being a passion for everyone begins and fades in the same way that everything else begins and fades.  In a couple weeks from now, there’s millions of kids out there who believe Santa Claus is coming to town.  Next year some of those very same kids will stop believing because year after year there’s no evidence that this obese whiteman came to town with his slave reindeers.  Also, older people who appear to be wiser will tell them it’s all a crock and if they keep believing, they are idiots.  The kids think about it for a minute and come to the conclusion that Santa Claus not existing makes more sense.

I think the strong hope for a passion in life lasts as long as it does because you have to go through at least a couple dozen years of living before you can form the possibility that it might not exist.  It’s kind of like religion for some people.  After a certain age, they’re like, “show me this God now or I’m out.”  Also, no one really tells you that your passion in life might not exist cause it’s such a downer.

I guess my semi-conclusion is that a passion in life can exist but it’s also a bit of a fairy tale that never happens for most people.   It’s kind of like happiness.  It comes and goes but sometimes never comes back.  Whatever the truth is, it’s probably a better idea to just believe it’s possible.  I will end off by saying something gay that’s been said before.  Sometimes believing is all we have.

 

Making Fun of Fat People

Quite often when someone makes fun of someone else, it’s because they are different from them in whatever way.  I was always a skinny kid so naturally I would make fun of fat kids.  I verbally assaulted anyone cause I liked getting laughs, attention but possibly most of all, it made me feel better about myself.  I think one could have referred to me as a person with low self-esteem or some other term they give to people who are assholes to make themselves feel better at other people’s expense.

When you’re a kid or teenager, fat people are the minority and an easy target.  I never saw it as bullying cause I was always smaller than the person I made fun of.  My mouth was like my gun, my words were my bullets and my legs were my getaway car if I needed them.  I was a somewhat fast runner especially compared to an obese person.

Around the age of 11, I rode bicycles with a couple other kids in the neighbourhood.  One guy was really obese.  His whole family was obese too.  They all carried sweat rags in their pocket.  I found that to be the most disgusting yet mind blowing idea at the time.  It’s funny though, I never made fun of his beloved sweat rag cause I felt it would be going overboard like making fun of someone about their cancer.  To be honest, I only made fun of him being fat once.

We were standing around with our bikes one day and for a reason I can’t remember, I called him “tubby.”  He didn’t like it too much and said something along the lines that I was dead if I called him that again.  So of course I called him “tubby” again and jumped on my bike and rode off.  I thought this fat guy had no chance of catching up to me, especially since I had a bit of a head start.  I looked back and holy shit, he was gaining ground on my like a Porsche.  Being young and naive, I was unaware of how much power fat legs could have to generate so much speed.  My scrawny legs were no match even with the big weight advantage I had.  See, when you’re fat, your legs tend to get pretty strong from holding all that extra weight and once they get going the momentum builds fiercly.  I never saw him ride with so much energy before but the anger fueled his legs that were usually sloth like with a burst of turbo.

I began to worry cause I knew if he caught me he could beat the crap out of me with ease.  But the stars aligned in my favour that day cause the other guy we were with fell off his bike, hurt himself and started crying.  We all stopped and Tubby went from angry to feeling guilty.  I went from a state of panic to relieved.  I was so glad he fell and hurt himself.  Better him than me getting humiliated. I tried blaming it on Tubby saying that if he didn’t chase us none of this would have happened.  He tried to blame it on me for calling him “Tubby.”

Tubby was a pretty strong guy.  When he sucked in his huge gut you could actually see a decent set of abdominal muscles.  He would let us take turns punching him in the stomach and it didn’t hurt him one bit.  I shouldn’t have been messing with a guy who was a year older than me who hit puberty already.

In high school, there was this big fat Asian guy who I would randomly shout out “fat cat” to in Chinese.  I never had a plan B cause I never thought about consequences.  One day it was just him and I walking in the hall and I called him the magic words.  He took me by the shirt, shoved me against the lockers and said “do you have a proberum with the way I look?”  Being about 12 inches shorter than him, I replied something on the lines of “umm no.”

In grade school, it’s not uncommon for people to make fun and get made fun of.  It’s just what kids do.  They don’t have any consideration towards other people’s feelings especially when they don’t have parents to teach them any better.  Regardless, I was still a little asshole.  There’s 30 year olds who still act this juvenile cause of their shit self-esteem or some other reason. I guess everyone has their own learning curve.  Once in a while, I’ll see some of the people I mocked in grade school and an overwhelming feeling of guilt comes over me.  I should offer to let them punch me in the face.

 

fat-kid

Guns don’t kill people, they just make it easier

It’s been said that ‘guns don’t kill people, people kill people.’  I suppose this is true but without a gun, many murders probably would not happen.  You hardly ever hear of mass stabbings or mass neck snappings cause it’s too difficult and most people are too chickenshit to attempt such acts.  Give a skinny teenager a gun though, and it will give him the balls to walk into a place to unleash his rage.

When you have a gun, it provides you with the space you need to feel not threatened while being able to inflict harm onto others.  It’s a lot less personal than walking up to someone and sticking them with a knife.  A person who shoots a bunch of unarmed civilians with a gun is a coward, especially if they turn the gun on themself.  If they had any balls they would shoot it out with the police.  They don’t though cause they know they’re going to lose and don’t want to feel the pain of 100 bullets or be taken to prison to get butt raped.  Having a gun can make someone feel empowered especially when they’ve gone through life feeling like a powerless loser.

A real man would take a jiujitsu class, walk into a place and beat the crap out of everyone.  A pycho would walk into a place and stab everyone with a knife like in gladiator times.  A coward walks into a school with a gun, shoots people from 15 feet away and then kills themself.

Guns just don’t make it easier to kill other people but also easier to kill yourself.  Most firearm related deaths are suicides and not homicides.  It’s really the best way.  Anyone choosing another method doesn’t really want to die that bad or is a horrible underachiever.  I suppose for some people there can be difficulties with acquiring a firearm but for most able bodied people, it’s possible.   If you can get drugs, you can probably find someone who can sell you a gun.  Even if you couldn’t afford a gun, you should be able to afford 1 bullet.  You can take this bullet to the gun store, ask to look at a gun that uses that bullet and do yourself in right there.   A real man though, would take his life by honouring the Bushido Code and use the seppuku method.  That’s a real man.

“They say that ‘Guns don’t kill people, people kill people.’ Well I think the gun helps. If you just stood there and yelled BANG, I don’t think you’d kill too many people.”

― Eddie Izzard

22983-620x-Seppuku

 

Live Hard, Die Young

When I was younger I would hear or see stories about how people lived on the edge and paid for it with their life.  I instantly concluded that they were unlucky or idiots.  Perhaps I really equated dying young to failure in life but quite possibly it just made me feel better about myself cause I was still alive.  Maybe I was being a hater towards people who strived for greatness.

I don’t think I’m being crazy when I say most people plan their lives like they are going to live forever.  We have this belief that we’re going to live well past the retirement age of 65.  I guess there’s some truth to it if the average lifespan is somewhere in the 70’s.  As possible as it might be, it seems kind of lame to devote so much of your younger years just so  you can exist in an immobile prune like state in the future.

It seems like a shitty way to live, in my opinion.  Unfortunately, the fear of suffering usually trumps the desire to live life to the fullest.  Some people like to think they live life to the fullest but usually they are just living life to the fullest as much as their 60 year plan will allow them to.   If you knew you were going to die in 5-10 years, you would probably stop living life the way you previously intended to.  But you probably will live longer than 5-10 years so of course you should plan for that scenario?  I suppose.

There’s this Chinese woman at work who is in her 50’s.  She was telling me how she puts as much of her paycheque as possible towards her mortgage.  She went on to say how this would cut her mortgage payments shorter by 4 years.   It didn’t seem very inspiring.  The advice she gives to her son is to not spend any money on anything except for necessary bills like gas and insurance for his car.  That is such typical Chinese advice.  I told her that’s too boring.  She replied, “you have to think about the future.”  I replied, “I already know what my future is.  I’m going to die.”  She rolled her eyes.  I laughed like a wicked witch and drove off with my broom stick.

So what the heck am I even getting at?  I think for many people, the misery of life is directly related to having to live their life according to their idea of when they will probably die.  Decisions such as acquiring property, saving money, frugally spending, keeping your job, keeping ties with people you don’t really like, not getting high, all feel like a constant battle that we wage with ourselves.

If I could make a pact with myself to end my life at a certain age, I would feel free to live life to some kind of fullness.  No regrets and no worries.  Live hard, crash and burn.  Theoretically, it wouldn’t matter.  They say quality not quantity, right?

I can understand the mentallity of people who engage in professions that play with death.  They can’t fathom the idea of living a regular schmuck life.   They’d rather put their well being at risk and even risk death.  To them, how they live is more important than how they die.