I'm exhausted by all the end-time prophecy. Wars and earthquakes and misery in general has been going on forever. We just have more ways of finding out about all these things. I'm sorry if it de-mystifies your life. I'll do some predicting for you, tomorrow people will be killed, maimed raped and and screwed over. The rich will continue to amass riches and the poor will scrape by and hopefully survive to see another sunset. I will love my family and do what I can to keep our ship sailing forward. As cool as it would be to receive help from some metaphysical entity that is purportedly in control, I will not waste any time asking for it. It's hard to scream from beneath the mire and be heard and if there's any sort of larger plan that benefits some supreme creator, benevolent or otherwise, this being is going to do whatever it wants to do anyway. Don't mistake that last part as a kernel of faith mind you, I'm merely looping this whole thing back around to the irritant at hand. Vague prophecies are a dime a dozen, ask any Nostradamus enthusiast. Ask Pat Robertson, he's probably got another doomsday date, but is too scared to fail again. Don't cancel your insurance plans just yet, that's certainly not what Jesus would do.
Buy your weeks worth of groceries, make plans to see your dentist. Make an appointment to have your prostate checked. Invest in a start-up company, because before you came around and discovered that your book had warned you about signs of the times, there were thousands or even millions of people before you that insisted that they too were in end-times. Perhaps the ending of the world is something as simple as just the ending of your life. Where your automatic functions cease and your mind embraces sweet oblivion. If the rest of us move on don't worry, you won't feel a thing one way or another. I'll end by quoting Mark Twain:
"I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it."
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
No, you're not a bitch, just an idiot....
We live in a varied society. People of all types of creeds, colors, and cultures live amongst us and interact with us daily. If you leave your house, chances are you have to deal with people. Whether it's at work, school, or the store... or any other place, be they family, friends or complete strangers. So what I aim to bitch about today will certainly hit home. You'll either relate to my story, or you'll identify with it because this personality type just happens to be the one you possess...
I've had the misfortune in life of having to deal with the self-proclaimed "bitch" multiple times in my short time on earth. I've even dealt with the self-proclaimed "asshole", the male gender type of this personality. These people must not be construed with actual bitches or assholes which are just as annoying, but they usually have no control over their impulses....
Self-proclaimed "bitches" run around life with a chip on their shoulder, maybe someone didn't love them enough, I'm not really sure. But they still wanna maintain the capacity to have friends and family that will not completely disown them. As a defense they go ahead and tell you upfront about how big of a bitch they truly are, and usually have some anecdotal reference to sometime in their past that you were not around for. They use this as an implication that if you were to somehow cross them, that you should worry about the consequences. In most cases when backed into a corner these people move into the martyr stance "Why are you picking on me?!" and generally clam up to you, but run around behind your back and shoot their mouths off about how they should've told you off, but spared you. These actions are immature, and completely unwanted by anyone, ever. Most decent folk will just ignore what these people say and quietly laugh to their friends about how big of an idiot these ego-maniacal mendicants actually are.
"Bitches" and "assholes" are the worst sort of coward. One step below the self proclaimed "crazy person" on the ladder of life. "Crazy people" have gone so far as to proclaim their selves bi-polar, but are really just moody. These people usually never even bother to go to a psychiatrist because they're too afraid to find out that there's actually nothing wrong with them, they're just dicks. Some self proclaimed crazy people actually do bother with the mental health field and visit a doctor frequently. They often rail other folks with their mental illness and boast about how they take zoloft or prozac, or any number of other anti-depressants/ anti-psychotics, all in the name of getting some sort of shocked response out of you to work themselves up to bad-ass status. This slightly rarer beast sometimes has anecdotes about their visits to mental health facilities or a concerned family member Baker acting them for three days. Sure, perhaps these people have problems, but is boasting about them and trying to make people fear them really doing anything at all? I say no.
The proper way to deal with all the people that I've chose to rant about today is to confront them. Call them out on their bull-shittery. To simply smile and nod at these fools only leads them to think that you actually buy into their pseudo-lunacy. 80% of the time you'll find that the a fore mentioned persons will walk off with their tail between their legs like the cowards they actually are. But I digress....
People will be quick to note that I've named my blog "Madness Inc." and that I've never been shy about some of the details of my sordid past with various mental health issues. I note the apparent hypocrisy that this blog conveys but I offer this bit of knowledge: I've never used my illnesses, real or trumped up, to instill any sort of fear into another person. In all honesty I do as much as humanly possible to maintain normalcy, and stay off of anyone's radar. It's a daily effort, and if anyone has ever had a reason to worry about me all they need to do is ask me something, anything, and I'll be more than happy to oblige.
If you managed to take any sort of offense to what I've stated today, keep it to yourself. Chew on some xanax and take a nap. I, nor anyone else is scared of your huff n' puff.... while you're out, GET A LIFE! Don't come looking for an apology, there are none in Darth Mizzark's apology jar for you. Have a magical day.
I've had the misfortune in life of having to deal with the self-proclaimed "bitch" multiple times in my short time on earth. I've even dealt with the self-proclaimed "asshole", the male gender type of this personality. These people must not be construed with actual bitches or assholes which are just as annoying, but they usually have no control over their impulses....
Self-proclaimed "bitches" run around life with a chip on their shoulder, maybe someone didn't love them enough, I'm not really sure. But they still wanna maintain the capacity to have friends and family that will not completely disown them. As a defense they go ahead and tell you upfront about how big of a bitch they truly are, and usually have some anecdotal reference to sometime in their past that you were not around for. They use this as an implication that if you were to somehow cross them, that you should worry about the consequences. In most cases when backed into a corner these people move into the martyr stance "Why are you picking on me?!" and generally clam up to you, but run around behind your back and shoot their mouths off about how they should've told you off, but spared you. These actions are immature, and completely unwanted by anyone, ever. Most decent folk will just ignore what these people say and quietly laugh to their friends about how big of an idiot these ego-maniacal mendicants actually are.
"Bitches" and "assholes" are the worst sort of coward. One step below the self proclaimed "crazy person" on the ladder of life. "Crazy people" have gone so far as to proclaim their selves bi-polar, but are really just moody. These people usually never even bother to go to a psychiatrist because they're too afraid to find out that there's actually nothing wrong with them, they're just dicks. Some self proclaimed crazy people actually do bother with the mental health field and visit a doctor frequently. They often rail other folks with their mental illness and boast about how they take zoloft or prozac, or any number of other anti-depressants/ anti-psychotics, all in the name of getting some sort of shocked response out of you to work themselves up to bad-ass status. This slightly rarer beast sometimes has anecdotes about their visits to mental health facilities or a concerned family member Baker acting them for three days. Sure, perhaps these people have problems, but is boasting about them and trying to make people fear them really doing anything at all? I say no.
The proper way to deal with all the people that I've chose to rant about today is to confront them. Call them out on their bull-shittery. To simply smile and nod at these fools only leads them to think that you actually buy into their pseudo-lunacy. 80% of the time you'll find that the a fore mentioned persons will walk off with their tail between their legs like the cowards they actually are. But I digress....
People will be quick to note that I've named my blog "Madness Inc." and that I've never been shy about some of the details of my sordid past with various mental health issues. I note the apparent hypocrisy that this blog conveys but I offer this bit of knowledge: I've never used my illnesses, real or trumped up, to instill any sort of fear into another person. In all honesty I do as much as humanly possible to maintain normalcy, and stay off of anyone's radar. It's a daily effort, and if anyone has ever had a reason to worry about me all they need to do is ask me something, anything, and I'll be more than happy to oblige.
If you managed to take any sort of offense to what I've stated today, keep it to yourself. Chew on some xanax and take a nap. I, nor anyone else is scared of your huff n' puff.... while you're out, GET A LIFE! Don't come looking for an apology, there are none in Darth Mizzark's apology jar for you. Have a magical day.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Me: 2011
The march of Time carries on, with no remorse for the toll it takes on humans or the planet. Time, personified in this particular post, is an unfeeling tyrant, with a death grip on us all. Time is intangible, yet measurable, and the one thing about Time that you can count on is that it will march on. Time will march on long after we've come and gone, and Time will continue to build up and tear down civilizations for as long as the universe allows till the end of it. Providing the universe actually does end depending on which theory of physics you subscribe to. I have had the good fortune to exist within this period of time for nearly thirty years now and I've experienced particularly great highs, and incredibly depressing lows. All of which has added to the entity that is Mark Wade, forming my personality and adjusting my world view as I've marched alongside Time.
Most of the early part of my twenties I was pretty sure I had figured out how the world worked. Having experienced childhood traumas and living on the lower end of society had prepared me for early independence. I embraced independence with little to no thought to what life and to a lesser degree, Time, had had in store for me. All of my issues that I tried hard to bury and ignore had simply festered and manifested itself into character flaws that ultimately led to utter ruin several years ago from the date of this post I present to you. In fact I've learned more about myself in the past three or four years wallowing in sorrow and exploring the ugly side of life, time, and most importantly my mind, than I had ever bothered to learn in the first quarter century of my walk on earth. A portion of these things I aim to share with my readers...
Life is longer than we're willing to admit and somehow it flies by as though there's hardly anytime at all...
As a growing young man I went through at least six or seven different types of personae... I think... if I sat and thought long enough it'd probably only be three. The persona I have landed with now is the one I'm most inclined to stick with. An amalgamation of all my past world views, after cutting out significant amounts of BS of course. I'm surprised with what I'm left with. People like me, for some strange reason I've yet to put my finger on. I've been called a manipulator by some people that are very close to me. At the time I had no idea what they meant. I did it all subconsciously. But as of late I see myself doing that, and I have to tone it back. It turns out I have quite a level of charm that I never knew I had. I'm completely scared of it. Mostly because half of me wants to take and use this power to the fullest extent, hurting everyone in my path to feed my insatiable lust for everything. While the other half just doesn't want to be a dick to everyone, I want to settle down and build something that could last... Consolidating these two idiosyncrasies will be a major part of my travels into my thirties.
So speaking of hurting everyone, I'm reminded of a time I did just that... As I barreled through a self destructive path of drugs and self loathing I broke the trust and hurt many people dear to me.. I was in a very dark place mentally and couldn't see past the incredibly thick veil of misery I had draped over my eyes subconsciously. I'm grateful that my son was far to young to remember those wicked days. I don't think I'm ready for details yet. But that's an inner demon that I came to terms with and I'm fairly confident that it'll never creep on me to that degree ever again. That episode made me stronger mentally, but has severely hampered my social and financial status.
Being in this new debilitated state has humbled me greatly and opened my eyes to a part of life that I once scoffed at. People in my current position were subject to ridicule when I was a bit more wealthy. It seems every human has a story. No matter how insignificant they are to me, they had a series of events that led them down the road to non-prosperity. I took a hard fall and now I walk along side these people, which has given me a new appreciation for them, and to a greater degree, myself. I'm still learning not to spend like I make tons of money. It's a hard habit to break.
I finally put a value on my life. A few years ago, suicide was totally an option. I tried a few times with horrible results. I'm reminded of a lyric written by Peter Steele of Type O Negative "World renown failure at both death and life..." Of course with me I'm less renowned... And for that reason I decided that becoming a statistic is no longer an option. The world had the poor fortune of causing me, so I aim to make it pay. The shortcut of suicide would rob me of the attempt to inflict bad fortune, or good fortune on this world, depending on what path I choose.
On the opposite note I can take stock in those that have stuck by me, and the new people I've allowed into my wonderfully strange life. These people around me now are likely going to be the people I stick with for many, many years and I hope that most of these years are more better than worse. I'm marrying into a family that appears to accept all of my eccentricities, and have a few of their own which endears them to me endlessly and compels me to spend time with them. I won't get too much into all that yet. That could be a post for later.
Now more than ever I wished that I lived closer to my son, Isaac. As now it would seem that I'm becoming the father that he deserves, save the 400+ miles that separate us. I speak with him weekly and I try to visit with him as often as I can, but my greatest hopes and fears reside in how he views me. Whether or not he loves me, and whether or not he'll understand exactly why I'm so far away now, and why I've done what I had to do. I can't write enough words to properly convey how I feel for him. I'll save all that for another day as well though...
I'm sure I could go on and on, but I'm pretty sure the point of these things is to post things regularly, I suppose I shouldn't blow my entire load on one freaking post...
Most of the early part of my twenties I was pretty sure I had figured out how the world worked. Having experienced childhood traumas and living on the lower end of society had prepared me for early independence. I embraced independence with little to no thought to what life and to a lesser degree, Time, had had in store for me. All of my issues that I tried hard to bury and ignore had simply festered and manifested itself into character flaws that ultimately led to utter ruin several years ago from the date of this post I present to you. In fact I've learned more about myself in the past three or four years wallowing in sorrow and exploring the ugly side of life, time, and most importantly my mind, than I had ever bothered to learn in the first quarter century of my walk on earth. A portion of these things I aim to share with my readers...
Life is longer than we're willing to admit and somehow it flies by as though there's hardly anytime at all...
As a growing young man I went through at least six or seven different types of personae... I think... if I sat and thought long enough it'd probably only be three. The persona I have landed with now is the one I'm most inclined to stick with. An amalgamation of all my past world views, after cutting out significant amounts of BS of course. I'm surprised with what I'm left with. People like me, for some strange reason I've yet to put my finger on. I've been called a manipulator by some people that are very close to me. At the time I had no idea what they meant. I did it all subconsciously. But as of late I see myself doing that, and I have to tone it back. It turns out I have quite a level of charm that I never knew I had. I'm completely scared of it. Mostly because half of me wants to take and use this power to the fullest extent, hurting everyone in my path to feed my insatiable lust for everything. While the other half just doesn't want to be a dick to everyone, I want to settle down and build something that could last... Consolidating these two idiosyncrasies will be a major part of my travels into my thirties.
So speaking of hurting everyone, I'm reminded of a time I did just that... As I barreled through a self destructive path of drugs and self loathing I broke the trust and hurt many people dear to me.. I was in a very dark place mentally and couldn't see past the incredibly thick veil of misery I had draped over my eyes subconsciously. I'm grateful that my son was far to young to remember those wicked days. I don't think I'm ready for details yet. But that's an inner demon that I came to terms with and I'm fairly confident that it'll never creep on me to that degree ever again. That episode made me stronger mentally, but has severely hampered my social and financial status.
Being in this new debilitated state has humbled me greatly and opened my eyes to a part of life that I once scoffed at. People in my current position were subject to ridicule when I was a bit more wealthy. It seems every human has a story. No matter how insignificant they are to me, they had a series of events that led them down the road to non-prosperity. I took a hard fall and now I walk along side these people, which has given me a new appreciation for them, and to a greater degree, myself. I'm still learning not to spend like I make tons of money. It's a hard habit to break.
I finally put a value on my life. A few years ago, suicide was totally an option. I tried a few times with horrible results. I'm reminded of a lyric written by Peter Steele of Type O Negative "World renown failure at both death and life..." Of course with me I'm less renowned... And for that reason I decided that becoming a statistic is no longer an option. The world had the poor fortune of causing me, so I aim to make it pay. The shortcut of suicide would rob me of the attempt to inflict bad fortune, or good fortune on this world, depending on what path I choose.
On the opposite note I can take stock in those that have stuck by me, and the new people I've allowed into my wonderfully strange life. These people around me now are likely going to be the people I stick with for many, many years and I hope that most of these years are more better than worse. I'm marrying into a family that appears to accept all of my eccentricities, and have a few of their own which endears them to me endlessly and compels me to spend time with them. I won't get too much into all that yet. That could be a post for later.
Now more than ever I wished that I lived closer to my son, Isaac. As now it would seem that I'm becoming the father that he deserves, save the 400+ miles that separate us. I speak with him weekly and I try to visit with him as often as I can, but my greatest hopes and fears reside in how he views me. Whether or not he loves me, and whether or not he'll understand exactly why I'm so far away now, and why I've done what I had to do. I can't write enough words to properly convey how I feel for him. I'll save all that for another day as well though...
I'm sure I could go on and on, but I'm pretty sure the point of these things is to post things regularly, I suppose I shouldn't blow my entire load on one freaking post...
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