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Just...stuff
Mar. 16th, 2001 01:32 pmOkay, feeling much better today - probably because I finally got off my arse and went for a ride. I took my mountain bike for a run along the dirt roads out the back of Wodonga; great fun, bouncing over potholes and through gravel that would give my touring bike a nervous breakdown. My mountain bike is most definetly OF THE STRONG. Of course, I couldn't get away from work completely; I spotted a burned-out car while I was out, and had to ring the police to make sure they knew about it. ;P Got hold of "Bicycle Bill", which was good. The car had already been logged and examined, so I wasn't really giving him news, but it satisfied my social conscience. If I hadn't called, it would have nagged at me all weekend.
I also did some gardening when I got home. I really need to get some plants into my pots that I brought with me, only March isn't the best time to be starting things. I wish the contractors would get around to putting the new fences up; I wanna clear out the storage area of BRM's stuff, and we need the shed for that.
So I'm feeling rather more sangine this morning about things. I've decided to steer clear of 'hotspots' in the fan-fic community, tho'. I'm just not able to deal with conflict, especially the kind of stupid petty conflict that rears its head every five minutes lately. My emotional equilibrium is all off-kilter, and it makes me react by saying things I either regret later, or which come across as major preaching. Who am I to tell people how to deal with each other? The only thing I can do is just try and avoid the crap as much as possible; it just makes me angry, sad and uncomfortable, and I definitely don't need to extra angst right now.
I do get tired of the "artistic temperament" excuse to be an arsehole. Along with the "I have/had a lousy life" excuse. Yes, people have had a crappy time, are having a crappy time, but crap is self-perpetuating. You treat people like crap, and eventually they're going to lose sympathy with your terrible life, and leave you to wallow in it. Then I see people like Heatherly, who is having a nightmare of a time, and she still manages to be caring and maintain that aura of serenity that I admire so much.
I'm a strong believer in self-determination. Shit happens, yes, but it is possible to rise above it. Like my Dad. Born in a poor working class area, parents divorced by the time he was around three, new step-father who used to beat him and his full brother and his mother. An alcoholic mother, who finally tossed out the step-father after four more children (the fourth being cerebal palsied as a result of beatings during pregnancy). Dad left school at fourteen, despite obvious intelligence, to support his siblings and mother. How he avoided falling into criminality and prison like a lot of his peers, I have no idea. He joined the Army at 16, and ended up in Malaya/Borneo and Vietnam in his late teens/early twenties. During his tours of duty, his youngest sister, Junie (the CP child), died, since Dad was the only one who could feed her/care for her. His mother didn't tell him, even though it would have been grounds for compassionate leave. He found out months after the fact, and only visited Junie's grave about six years ago for the first time, he was so hurt and angry.
He met my mother in the Army (she was dating his best friend, who later ran off with her best friend) and they got married after she got pregnant with me. And for the next twenty years or so, he did the responsible family man thing, despite the nightmares and the flashbacks and the periodic drinking problems, until my brother and I left home, work pressure became too intense, and he had a nervous breakdown. Diagnosed with Post Traumatic Shock eleven years ago, and with treatment and therapy, he's recovered, although he'll never be the same man.
I'm not telling you (whoever is reading this, because I know people read this journal, that's why it's online) because I want sympathy, for myself or my father. Dad overcame a nightmare of a childhood, overcame the abuse and neglect and indifference, to become a man that I'm proud to call my father. He could have so easily become a victim of his circumstances, ended up in prison, become an alcoholic wreck in an early grave, but he didn't. There are some terrible, terrible things in the world, and people have dreadful lives, but if you let those terrible things drag you down, then that's the true tragedy. The people I talk to online are intelligent, gifted, sensitive and creative. But sometimes it seems they're afraid to use those things, or waste them on stupid, petty fights, preferring to fall back on the "I have a lousy life" excuse rather than try and change things. And before you hit that comment button and tell me that it's not that easy, let me ask you this; how difficult is it to smile at someone? How hard is it to just walk away from an argument? How hard is it to consider the feelings of the third parties you diss in your journals, because you know it will get back to them somehow. People talk of honesty - perhaps they should look at their own motives for doing things.
Damn, here am I, preaching again. I really have to stop doing that.
I have a basic set of rules for the livejournal thing. Never say here anything about people I would not say to their faces. And since I'm a chicken, that means you won't get any juicy ficcer gossip here. It's not fair to do that to someone, especially when it involves conversations etc that were private, because they have no way of defending themselves, short of the Comments section. And since those can be deleted, that's not really an unbiased forum. And that will go for the journals I list in my "Friends" page. I don't want to hear people's diatribes about other people, especially people I know and like. I don't want to waste my time and insult my intelligence with that sort of crap. So if I read something along those lines in someone's journal from my "Friends" list, it's gone. It's not a matter of not being that person's friend any more. I don't want to be placed in a position I find distasteful. These journals are public, unless you toggle that "Private" option, regardless of what you say about wanting only your friends to read them. To me, that indicates a certain responsibility; don't say anything unless you're prepared to take the flack for it. I'm not telling people what to write in their journals, but I am exercising my right not to read it.
"I'm just a man,
Cleaning up the kitchen,
And I do the best I can,
To make things right.
I don't understand
How I got here any way,
And I'm feeling so down and out..."
"Kitchen Man" - The Reels.
I also did some gardening when I got home. I really need to get some plants into my pots that I brought with me, only March isn't the best time to be starting things. I wish the contractors would get around to putting the new fences up; I wanna clear out the storage area of BRM's stuff, and we need the shed for that.
So I'm feeling rather more sangine this morning about things. I've decided to steer clear of 'hotspots' in the fan-fic community, tho'. I'm just not able to deal with conflict, especially the kind of stupid petty conflict that rears its head every five minutes lately. My emotional equilibrium is all off-kilter, and it makes me react by saying things I either regret later, or which come across as major preaching. Who am I to tell people how to deal with each other? The only thing I can do is just try and avoid the crap as much as possible; it just makes me angry, sad and uncomfortable, and I definitely don't need to extra angst right now.
I do get tired of the "artistic temperament" excuse to be an arsehole. Along with the "I have/had a lousy life" excuse. Yes, people have had a crappy time, are having a crappy time, but crap is self-perpetuating. You treat people like crap, and eventually they're going to lose sympathy with your terrible life, and leave you to wallow in it. Then I see people like Heatherly, who is having a nightmare of a time, and she still manages to be caring and maintain that aura of serenity that I admire so much.
I'm a strong believer in self-determination. Shit happens, yes, but it is possible to rise above it. Like my Dad. Born in a poor working class area, parents divorced by the time he was around three, new step-father who used to beat him and his full brother and his mother. An alcoholic mother, who finally tossed out the step-father after four more children (the fourth being cerebal palsied as a result of beatings during pregnancy). Dad left school at fourteen, despite obvious intelligence, to support his siblings and mother. How he avoided falling into criminality and prison like a lot of his peers, I have no idea. He joined the Army at 16, and ended up in Malaya/Borneo and Vietnam in his late teens/early twenties. During his tours of duty, his youngest sister, Junie (the CP child), died, since Dad was the only one who could feed her/care for her. His mother didn't tell him, even though it would have been grounds for compassionate leave. He found out months after the fact, and only visited Junie's grave about six years ago for the first time, he was so hurt and angry.
He met my mother in the Army (she was dating his best friend, who later ran off with her best friend) and they got married after she got pregnant with me. And for the next twenty years or so, he did the responsible family man thing, despite the nightmares and the flashbacks and the periodic drinking problems, until my brother and I left home, work pressure became too intense, and he had a nervous breakdown. Diagnosed with Post Traumatic Shock eleven years ago, and with treatment and therapy, he's recovered, although he'll never be the same man.
I'm not telling you (whoever is reading this, because I know people read this journal, that's why it's online) because I want sympathy, for myself or my father. Dad overcame a nightmare of a childhood, overcame the abuse and neglect and indifference, to become a man that I'm proud to call my father. He could have so easily become a victim of his circumstances, ended up in prison, become an alcoholic wreck in an early grave, but he didn't. There are some terrible, terrible things in the world, and people have dreadful lives, but if you let those terrible things drag you down, then that's the true tragedy. The people I talk to online are intelligent, gifted, sensitive and creative. But sometimes it seems they're afraid to use those things, or waste them on stupid, petty fights, preferring to fall back on the "I have a lousy life" excuse rather than try and change things. And before you hit that comment button and tell me that it's not that easy, let me ask you this; how difficult is it to smile at someone? How hard is it to just walk away from an argument? How hard is it to consider the feelings of the third parties you diss in your journals, because you know it will get back to them somehow. People talk of honesty - perhaps they should look at their own motives for doing things.
Damn, here am I, preaching again. I really have to stop doing that.
I have a basic set of rules for the livejournal thing. Never say here anything about people I would not say to their faces. And since I'm a chicken, that means you won't get any juicy ficcer gossip here. It's not fair to do that to someone, especially when it involves conversations etc that were private, because they have no way of defending themselves, short of the Comments section. And since those can be deleted, that's not really an unbiased forum. And that will go for the journals I list in my "Friends" page. I don't want to hear people's diatribes about other people, especially people I know and like. I don't want to waste my time and insult my intelligence with that sort of crap. So if I read something along those lines in someone's journal from my "Friends" list, it's gone. It's not a matter of not being that person's friend any more. I don't want to be placed in a position I find distasteful. These journals are public, unless you toggle that "Private" option, regardless of what you say about wanting only your friends to read them. To me, that indicates a certain responsibility; don't say anything unless you're prepared to take the flack for it. I'm not telling people what to write in their journals, but I am exercising my right not to read it.
"I'm just a man,
Cleaning up the kitchen,
And I do the best I can,
To make things right.
I don't understand
How I got here any way,
And I'm feeling so down and out..."
"Kitchen Man" - The Reels.
