I’ve run out of patience and just don’t care anymore. Honest to God, I’m too old change. So people shouldn’t bother trying to coax me or complain to me because everything they say will go through one ear and out the other. I just have no patience anymore. I really do not care. That’s it.
Being around my good, long time friends with toddlers is exhausting. They try to arrange hangouts centred around having all of the kids together but I’d rather just be their friend.
To piss me off: You've had a cigarette in the last 10 to 15 minutes. You board the bus/train or come into my office, and breathe your cancer smoke in my face. I fucking hate that. I. FUCKING. HATE. THAT.
There's a single male who sits outside a coffee shop on Robson every weekend, for a half an hour each time, having a coffee & eating a baked good...just sitting there, doing nothing, not reading, not looking at his phone, just looking out at the street, that's all....it's so creepy I try to walk fast by that coffee shop.
I used to think that every memory I had about my childhood was “the truth”. For a long time after I reached adulthood I believed that my perception told the story of my family. It did, but the story it told was only my own. It took me a long time to understand how perception is completely different for each person so no two people in any family will remember things the same way. As a parent myself hearing some of the things my own kids believe happened in their childhood, I also realize that children can’t possibly know what’s really going on with their parents, and that helped me see my own parents in a different light. I was just a child so I only remembered my child’s view of life, which was obviously missing so much context that would explain a lot. So now I see my parents more as the complex human beings that they were rather than just the people who created me and provided my reality as a kid. It’s helped me forgive them for the mistakes they made, and it’s replaced some of the anger and resentment I carried with humility as I accept my own humanity too.
Opportunity doesn’t knock, You need to get out the door and then there’s opportunity !
The other day, I had my other selves in parallel universes gaze into my own and it was humbling, I'm not gonna lie. One of me was married and happy - a good person - while the other was also single but wildly successful. And he was absolutely FURIOUS that I was not. That I was still living with my parents. WTF?!? He's both ruthless and unforgiving. Scary. But I took solace knowing that God has positioned me where I am for good reason.
Okay, so the government prints a ton of money, things shoot up way above any real affordability measure in real estate, and then they extend the mortgage so we can pay it off longer into a time frame when we are retired and cannot earn any income? This economy is f*cked! Our government is f*cked!
It seems that every 30 years of so, the youth of today rise up in artistic revolution. I was a kid in the 90's, my mom in the 60's, my grandma in the 30's. Well, it's the 20's and we're right on track. The youth of recent went through something none of us olds will know what it's like. Isolation in ones formative years will create pain for some, but it will also bring some sort of youthful artist revolution. I am excited to see what they do. When I was a young peep, NWA and Nirvana were opposites, and equally revolutionary. The early days of internet made art go global and the implosion was a beautiful spectacle of a generation. I am excited to see where this generation goes and what they dance to.
If I had been born a few decades earlier I would probably have learned much sooner in my life about the long term effects of childhood neglect and trauma. How being left alone to deal with fear, loneliness, and grief teaches a child that they have to be strong no matter what. So now that I’m nearing the end of my life in isolation, I understand that it didn’t have to be so lonely and difficult. If I’d known how to ask for help when I needed it, in a direct way, not with subtle hints that were dropped in the hopes that someone would understand and help me, I might have chosen partners who weren’t emotionally unavailable. Now I know that creating a suit of emotional armour might help in times of trauma to get you through it, but if you don’t learn how and when to take it off it becomes too effective at keeping other people from getting close enough to help you. I don’t even have the words anymore to express my pain to another soul, because it’s so overwhelming and I’m afraid I’d drown them. I long to be vulnerable but I’m terrified at the prospect because I feel like I’d start crying and never stop. My advice to young people is to do the work to unpack all that baggage before it’s too late. The information is all over the internet, so get going.
