The Looking Glass

Local Tourist

I’ve lived in this locale for almost twenty years, seen businesses come and go and still I don’t know it as the locals keep to themselves and their own.

I don’t see them walking the street as everyone except the street people have cars and bicycles although since the coronavirus lock down I do see people I have never seen before. It will pass, the thing about vehicles is that they remove you from a situation or locality whereas if you walk you are part of the landscape.

Vehicles apart from public transport do have their uses especially for a Sunday drive to the countryside or the beach but I do feel that they detract from a sense of community.

It’s almost like George Orwell’s book nineteen eighty four (1984) where the screen is the ‘community’ or shared psyche, I’ve spoken about this before, this disconnect between what you see and what you actually experience or find is locally relevant .

It fosters a sense of apathy and powerlessness almost as if there are two different worlds, what you see on the screen and what you experience personally. I get the sense that people actually don’t care much about this, the thought being if it doesn’t affect them then it is irrelevant to them.

Everyone drives, something has been lost I guess it keeps costs down if you can actually drive everywhere but the knowledge of the neighborhood I mean I’d love to see the Police walking the streets, getting to know people instead of just turning up to arrest them from their cars.

There’s the old guys with their mobility scooters , the painters who congregate at the pub, the people who own coffee shops, people who walk for leisure or design with or without dogs, shoppers, cyclists, skateboarders, the tailors all the subtleties and nuances of a community that you see out of the car window as you drive past.

Hello!

Discipline

Everyone talks about courage but there is something other than courage to take you where you want to go or just endure during the seemingly endless bad times, discipline!

For those of us not blessed with courage, discipline is equally powerful. Having the gravitas to stick to a task or tasks day after day, week after week, month after month through sheer bloody mindedness. The world and those around us thinking that we are totally mad but we persevere, through gritty discipline.

Courage can leave you when you are in a world of pain, when everything that can go wrong has, when there is nothing left for you to give physically or mentally, when people are laughing and mocking you, you get up through discipline and adhere to it with every fibre of your being, let them laugh and mock you because it is your journey, your discipline.

You may be fat, smoke like a chimney and be nothing to look at but you get shit done with disciplines friend fortitude, you need to go to the shop and have no car, you walk there and back.

Sweat stinging your eyes the heavy plastic bags cutting into your hands and you are still a kilometre away from home, the suns beating down and you are short of breath, maybe you stop but you keep going through discipline.

Life is not a sprint session, it’s a long march of deprivation, pain, self doubt, loss and mental anguish but you will find you can bear all of these things and more if you are disciplined, you do the grind and don’t give up on the man beside you and if he is no longer there then you continue in his memory.

The world is built on negativity, people are quick to cut you down because that’s all they do, all they know, criticize and sleep.

Just because something is difficult or seemingly impossible that does not mean it is not worth doing even if it appears insane it is our discipline when courage has gone that matters the most.

Journeys

Reading another blog as I tend to do in my spare time when I can concentrate I came upon the Theseus paradox ,Theseus being the founding King of Athens who after many moons sailing the seas returned.

The wooden boat he started out with had had all its parts replaced with new ones so essentially it was a new ship the basic question is it it the same ship that began the trip (A) or the one he finished his journey on (B), so does that equate as A=B?

I would argue it was the same ship because there was only one journey and there is one constant , the people on board so through the one journey they replaced all of the parts of the ship with new ones while making the same journey without interruption.

Even if they had stopped and completely rebuilt the ship it is still part of the same journey so so A contributed to B but only through the constant of C, the voyagers.

Identity is in our voyage no one is the same as they were last year because I think the human body completely regenerates during that period.

Identity is in our place in society, our reactions, actions, memories, the interactions with people on the way and living memory and even if something life changing were to happen we still have our identities as remembered by others and even our Blogs.

I’m coming to the conclusion that everyone is unique, I think it would be a stretch to even entertain the idea that we could all possibly be the same and that uniqueness is our identity.

Equilibrium

I’ve tried everything, antidepressants , anti psychotics, off label uses of medications, binaural beats Saint John’s Wort, 5 Htp , hormones, supplements, coffee, herbal tea, healthy eating, exercise, mindfulness, vitamins, minerals, stimulants, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), alcohol, herbal preparations, illegal drugs, religion, witch doctors, logic but still I’m down the rabbit hole of delusional depressive apathy.

**Sig Sauer P220** **( Picture Sourced from Wikipedia)**

You get to a point where you just can’t think of anything , a rather joyless experience where the thought of suicide is never far away. The only thing keeping me here is the totality of death.

What keeps me going is gratitude, I have a gratitude list of things that I am grateful for and there is no way I can repay all the people that have gotten me to this point so to honour them I stay alive, it can get tough mentally though.

You know I’ve always wondered why the brain seems to attack itself with mental illness and negativity,you would think that the brains default position would be a positive one the logic being a positive psyche is more likely to survive.

Another thing that helps when I can focus is mindfulness especially meditation, the clarity when I do get it is deeply calming, my favourite spot is on my balcony where I do most of my thinking and smoking and it doesn’t have to be quiet.

If you just focus on your own self and disregard the noise both mental and auditory it can be a perfect pick me up.

I watched channel Nine Brisbane news last night on the television and realised why I don’t like watching commercial stations, everything is so staged I mean are you trying to tell me that all ‘reporters’ are good looking and fashionable and the obligatory hand gestures to ’emphasize’ their points like puppets..what!?

As lurid as a tabloid.

I remember what it was like being unmedicated, that cold empty feeling in the pit of your bowels, like you were totally inconsequential.

Mental illness from personal experience robs you of your assertiveness and confidence, you could be built like a brick outhouse but have the mentality of Bambi, not exactly a menace to society.

I included a picture of one of my favourite hand guns a Sig Sauer P220 one that I’ll never own as well as a Browning Hi Power or a Ruger Mini 14, I like guns, identifying them was one of my hobbies and probably still is.

Don’t get me wrong I think using them on defenseless people is sub human but I wouldn’t mind belonging to a gun club just to take pot shots at paper targets.

Guns fascinate me, I’d really love to be able to learn how to use and maintain one but I don’t live in America so I guess I’ll never know oh yeah they do have mental health checks for gun licenses over there so it will remain a fantasy.

Anyway put away that Sig P220 and come outside it looks like a beautiful morning.

Delusions et al

I’m not deluded presently but I have been and will be in future, you see we are all living under delusions of normalcy.

Maybe it’s a rock solid belief in society, the permanency of your place in it and others like you, it could be the belief that your family and loved ones will all live long and happy lives and die peacefully, a permanent job, place to live, the sanctity of your chosen God, the belief in law and order.

In the face of chaos we choose routines as our panacea and cling to them tooth and nail in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds or cold reason.

I know because I, over chaos, can only deal with the hand I have been dealt with an almost robotic routine.

For a routine you must find a delusion to construct it on, that’s the hard part, you have to find a delusion that covers as much of any eventuality you can think of. Then you build… Slowly.

There are delusions to subscribe to everywhere, the television programming, the internet, radio, newspapers, magazines, podcasts, music, movies and even people, things or clothes, there is a delusion brand for everyone.

Some say once you have experienced brutality and senseless violence with no redress and seen what it does to people first hand, that you are scarred.

I say yes that may be so but you also have a gift, the gift of being able to see through a facade, which is particularly useful if you or someone you know is living under a delusion.

The almost impossible part is realising yourself or trying to let them let them know,

good luck with the latter.

Maybe you could give me some tips.

Cease to Exist

Wouldn’t it be the bee’s knees if we all had a cease to exist button, of course it would have a failsafe switch which would only allow access to said button triggered by an overload of despondent negativity.

It would be the ultimate in convenience and there would be no pain or even vapour left behind you would just vanish instantly ie cease to exist.

Then your associates could discuss your ceasing to exist on the bus on the way to work. “Oh did you hear about balding scalp?” one would say to the other

“No?” the other would respond. ”

“Well he ceased to exist yesterday one would utter “

“Oh really! ” the other would say sympathetically and continue” That’s a real shame, he was such a lovely fellow, how did it happen? “,

” Well apparently he was waiting in line for toilet paper at his local grocery and someone behind him complained to security that he was standing too close to her and started a big fuss.

Anyway a glazed look came into his eyes, his failsafe went off and he immediately hit his cease to exist button as security was about to tell him to keep his one point five metres.”

” Well that’s perfectly understandable of Balding, never wanting to be a fuss” the other would state as one agreed,

“Always the perfect gentleman, never a bad word to say about anyone, couldn’t stand a scene!, well this is my stop, cheerio!”,

-And would promptly exit the bus at the middle door,” Ciau!” the other would say and proceed to look out the bus window.

Damn Wall!

Ow!

Trevor Berbick v.s Mike Tyson

For me in my ongoing battle I am Trevor Berbick against the depressions Mike Tyson on “Judgement Day” November twenty two nineteen eighty six at The Las Vegas Hilton.

After the opening feeling out of the first round I’m feeling quite cocky against this opponent and choose to go head to head with him, the antidepressants in my corner are kicking in and I’m brimming with confidence.

He clips me with a punch and i respond with a flurry all missing their mark, a feeling of foreboding begins to replace my previous confidence, “damn this guys quick” flits through my unsettled mind.

His punches start getting through but I’m still riding the last of my confidence, I get him in a clinch trying to slow him down and throw a few uppercuts but the referee separates us,

I vainly throw a wild left but it misses and then he connects with his punches and am thrown reeling unsteadily away on the blue canvas,

He follows up with more punches and I’m feeling the effects bobbing back and forth after each blow.

I’m all at sea, I get him in a clinch and the first round bell goes off, as I walk away I spit in his direction, I still hate him. My eyes are cloudy as I smile weakly at my corner and sit down.

My doctors there to tweak my medication and my psychologist gives me talk therapy but I’m still smarting from the beating and the words aren’t getting through but I pretend like they are,” Are you okay?” I smile and nod not meeting his eye.

The bell goes, round two and a little confidence has returned and I go forth to do battle and then bang the side of my head explodes with pain like I’ve been hit by a rock then bang bang bang, and my legs go from under me but I eventually stand.

The referee comes over and gives me a mandatory standing eight count, I hate the bastard even more and my hatred gives me strength to return to the fray and I bob back and forth between cliches as if expecting to have some sort of victory by not submitting to him.

Then bang bang two more rights to my head and then more, I’m in a world of pain bobbing and clinching, I don’t feel the final two punches and he nudges me away and I fall over.

Still wild with passionate resistance I try vainly to get to my feet my eyes are now swimming in my head.

I finally stand but its too late and the referee embraces me, but I still hate my opponent, Iron Mike Depression.

Easter Saturday…

The morning had dragged itself on to early afternoon where it was expiring, slowly.

It was a flat patch for him it had been a week of monotonous beginnings, days seamlessly blending in to each other, a waking nightmare monotone.

He did realise that this was for want of another word ‘normal’. People didn’t think clearly all the time and they had bad days.

Of course that was of no consolation to him, he wanted to all the time, it was akin to death for him not to think of anything.

After all life was for living, not waiting to die.

The air-conditioning unit was cooling him off, how he had dealt with the heat for almost a decade was heroic to say the least.

People had gone on inexplicable crime sprees for less. A motorbike rumbled in the distance, the kitchen window was alive with shimmering greenery outside, he could feel a headache coming on.

A car coughed to life on the side road. He had some Celebrex in the medicine cabinet.

It was meant for his knee which some opposing sadist had put their shoulder into after running halfway across the field to a mall that he was bound to during a game of rugby in his younger incarnation.

He found that it worked equally well for other aches and pains although regrettably not provocation.

He wouldn’t have made a very good Policeman or nightclub bouncer even though he looked like one.

He was too shy and retiring, preferring to retreat from confrontation.

After all if you wanted to do that sort of thing one could take up boxing and get paid for it.

Well that broken vacuum cleaner is not going to transport itself to the garage he thought to the tune of a singing juvenile magpie outside and stood up.

Saturday…

The Arrogance of Youth

Time did not begin with the dawn of the internet.

Essentially what you see on it is what others want you to and what you seek out yourself.

It is dreadfully easy to conclude that you are in some way intelligent through this self service.

Life is not on the internet nor is it behind a screen, to relate to people you have to go out your front door.

It is a fatal mistake to only keep to your own kind or level of ‘intelligence’.

You see in fact that you are a minority, the rest of the world does not have easy access to the internet.

One has to learn to communicate, everyone has something to learn.

Once you start dealing with labels you are stereotyping the world around you to fit with your elitist agenda and pigeon holing yourself in the process.

There is a reason the world hasn’t embraced China or North Korea’s versions of communism, they are totalitarian regimes with appalling human rights records.

You will find that labels are a form of conformity, everyone is unique in some way, if we were all the same the world would look very different.

The mass media wants you to adhere to a label. We were all disaffected young people at some point in our lives.

Part of the problem today is that people are not grateful for what they have and harbour unreasonable expectations.

All you need is Mazlows hierarchy. The thing about life is you have to live it accepting your means and that doesn’t mean holidaying in Ibiza

Life is not a party and there is beauty all around you no matter where you are. Sometimes you just have to look for it,