Yep. That's about the shape of the roads I tend to find myself on.
Find the long and winding road home. By karl_shakur
Come ye reynards and vixens in the night. There's hares about.
The force is with us.
Are you?
Here are some of the images I created for Topp’s new series of trading cards, Star Wars: Chrome Perspectives. It was a blast to make them, and I’m gratified that the folks who’ve seen them seem to dig them.
So, what sort of person is relating to this quote about being such a mess and the mess pretending all that love walking on by must just not be real, right? Like a little baby fairy tale about unconditional love. Except unconditional is not meant to be bestowed on an adult.
Love between adults is necessarily and deservedly replete with conditions and boundaries and deal breakers. That's something the head shrinkers with all their crazy jargon would label "healthy". Compare that with the girl shopping around, who has an important condition of her own that Prince Charming be sturdy and resilient to her messes while staying unconditionally true and taking care of her.
Be very wary of girls who like this sort of accountability shirking qualification. The fantasy validating the true loved mess is everything because they are always a mess and the mess is a very big problem.
You see a similar sentiment in the spookily common meme that reads , "if you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best". This is an extra special red flag. Women who like this idea live in a paradoxical delusion about themselves.
These are women who spend a great deal of time at their worst, and if they have a best, it is like the fine China only for when the Queen is coming. So this girl who is a disregulated hurricane prone harpy has the sort of divergent mind that can cut a swathe of destruction and misery everywhere she goes but still have a diva level delusion of how precious and special she is and that her mythical best that perhaps no one has ever even seen is some extraordinary one-of-a-kind prize worthy of a perfect super human endurance doormat who will perpetually caretake her massive maintenance requiring hysterical mess. It's worth a shot. There are masochistic self loathing broken souls qualified for the job. She just has to nab one.
People express truths about themselves that aren't always apparent up front, but can be glimpsed with the smallest of gestures. The sorts of quotations, slogans and memes that resonates with a person are worth your attention, maybe even the fact that they are drawn to epigrams and aphorism in the first place is a flag. It perhaps suggests a hole in the person, a lost neediness seeking direction and reassurance constantly, not to mention a lazy attitude about fixes.
The ones demanding tolerance of their awfulness or conversely warning you off if you can read it, are a subset of this greater cohort who've earned a now cliché caution, that people who surround themselves with inspirationals are not the inspired or even the meagerly functional, but usually the neurotically depressed.
Those "don't give up right before the miracle arrives" vampires are worse than just an Eyeore. Eyeore is a pathetic creature mired in his mopey pessimism, but a sympathetic one, as well as being possessed of a certain self awareness and delimiting the amount of time he inflicts himself on others. The Inspirationals seeking are starving, voraciously seeking anything soothing, anything to feel momentarily better, or a facimile of whole. They're definitely not seeking personal accountability, it is anathema to them, requiring the impossible of them, like honesty, reflection, effort and acceptance. When they see you amble up, all you are is a big ol' rail of coke to them. To consume.
Heed the warnings, because they can exhude the most charismatic lures just long enough to dig their tendrils in to you. It's too late then. By then you're just a feed trough. For a while. Til you're empty.
Howard Chaykin’s 1979 graphic novel adaptation of Alfred Bester’s sci-fi classic, The Stars My Destination
just realized I never posted this
this is the best picture of me that exists
Thankfully, I retired relatively young. Not that retirement is a gig worth being too grateful about either.
Back when cans were cans❗
Joseph Schlitz Brewing Co, 1963
No one does escape. It doesn't matter one bit. Humility is everything.
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