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Sep. 14th, 2009
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If this was the wake of an accountant, and the only guy spouting off about UFOs was some long lost relative who turned up wearing a plaid jacket and a tinfoil cap underneath his hat, I think I'd probably want to spend the hours listening to Plaid Jacket's abduction experiences.
We all need to connect with people somehow. Showing off your prejudices toward someone with glib, dismissive statements like "What are you like?" or "Nah, it's all bollocks anyway" do not help: they merely reveal your own ignorance and buffoonery and your lack of understanding of how vital it is that we all need some form of social contact in our lives.
And my point of view on UFOs? That's for me to know, and for you to find out. :)
If this was the wake of an accountant, and the only guy spouting off about UFOs was some long lost relative who turned up wearing a plaid jacket and a tinfoil cap underneath his hat, I think I'd probably want to spend the hours listening to Plaid Jacket's abduction experiences.
We all need to connect with people somehow. Showing off your prejudices toward someone with glib, dismissive statements like "What are you like?" or "Nah, it's all bollocks anyway" do not help: they merely reveal your own ignorance and buffoonery and your lack of understanding of how vital it is that we all need some form of social contact in our lives.
And my point of view on UFOs? That's for me to know, and for you to find out. :)
Writer's Block: My Dream Job
Sep. 14th, 2009 06:09 pm[Error: unknown template qotd]
Author. And I already have it.
Author. And I already have it.
A friend of mine is in trouble
Sep. 14th, 2009 06:16 pmI know of a friend of mine. I have known this person since 2007, roughly, back when this person was a guy.
Earlier this year, this friend of mine came back after an absence, having made a major decision. A new name, and new pronoun, but the same friendship. Peeps, you know the drill.
Now this friend of mine, her whole oldlife had to go. Male hobbies, old habits, whatever it took to assert her new identity and lifestyle. And I accept this implicitly. I don't need to be told twice. I want to help.
Only, today she was bitter and angry. Sadly, the usual problem facing someone who lives in this kind of a parochial, backwards place. Prejudice and name calling. Aspersions cast upon her lifestyle, morals and eventual spiritual destination.
I have been telling her, and some other people I know who have faced the same, or similar, problems, that this place is not to blame - that the people who do these things != the whole population. But the truth is, when I hear someone telling me of their problems, going on about their woes, letting the depression sink in, I nowadays find myself thinking like a Klingon.
I stop them before the depression sets in. I have to. Because I can feel the depression in me, waiting to come out of the steel cage I locked it into. I kicked my depression in the head, and the scret of how I did it is very simple - a trick I told these guys I have been trying to help. This is the secret.
I see myself dying. I see myself being lowered into the hole, and I see the faces of the people who put me there, all gathered uninvited around the grave. I never asked them to come, and actually forbade them - but they came because I did not wish it so. To defy me.
And I see them waiting for me to go down, giggling, waiting to pee on the remains and proclaim that they were right.
And I tell myself that I will watch them all burn before I let that happen.
I tell my friends that their life, their lifestyle, was and always will be theirs to choose. They do not need to justify it to me because I accept them for who they are, implicitly. And I accept their choices and changes in their lives the same as if a woman whom I know as a friend announced to me that she was a lesbian, or pregnant. Or dying.
It. Is. Not. Up. To. Others. To. Judge.
It really doesn't matter "what other people think."
So if anyone on my f'list is of the candle lighting persuasion, I could really do with some candles lit. Just aim the healing in my direction, so I can hold on to it and bring it to my friends. Or just aim it at "Fiat Knox's friends who could really do with some help right now." I'm sure the healing will get to the right postal address. :)
Earlier this year, this friend of mine came back after an absence, having made a major decision. A new name, and new pronoun, but the same friendship. Peeps, you know the drill.
Now this friend of mine, her whole oldlife had to go. Male hobbies, old habits, whatever it took to assert her new identity and lifestyle. And I accept this implicitly. I don't need to be told twice. I want to help.
Only, today she was bitter and angry. Sadly, the usual problem facing someone who lives in this kind of a parochial, backwards place. Prejudice and name calling. Aspersions cast upon her lifestyle, morals and eventual spiritual destination.
I have been telling her, and some other people I know who have faced the same, or similar, problems, that this place is not to blame - that the people who do these things != the whole population. But the truth is, when I hear someone telling me of their problems, going on about their woes, letting the depression sink in, I nowadays find myself thinking like a Klingon.
I stop them before the depression sets in. I have to. Because I can feel the depression in me, waiting to come out of the steel cage I locked it into. I kicked my depression in the head, and the scret of how I did it is very simple - a trick I told these guys I have been trying to help. This is the secret.
I see myself dying. I see myself being lowered into the hole, and I see the faces of the people who put me there, all gathered uninvited around the grave. I never asked them to come, and actually forbade them - but they came because I did not wish it so. To defy me.
And I see them waiting for me to go down, giggling, waiting to pee on the remains and proclaim that they were right.
And I tell myself that I will watch them all burn before I let that happen.
I tell my friends that their life, their lifestyle, was and always will be theirs to choose. They do not need to justify it to me because I accept them for who they are, implicitly. And I accept their choices and changes in their lives the same as if a woman whom I know as a friend announced to me that she was a lesbian, or pregnant. Or dying.
It. Is. Not. Up. To. Others. To. Judge.
It really doesn't matter "what other people think."
So if anyone on my f'list is of the candle lighting persuasion, I could really do with some candles lit. Just aim the healing in my direction, so I can hold on to it and bring it to my friends. Or just aim it at "Fiat Knox's friends who could really do with some help right now." I'm sure the healing will get to the right postal address. :)
( Behind the cut ... )
Caster Semenya
As far as I'm concerned, Caster Semenya deserves to keep her medal. It was fairly earned.
