Tag Archives: Anger

Self discipline in a modern world rant

Find yourself asking why? Asking how come?
Just like TV, the Blogosphere has channels.
So many so that you can not count them.

When one is an actual blogger who posts to their own or on a multi-contributor blog telling the difference between law, Blogosphere law, all existing international laws, right and wrong, illegal or not supposed to do that and what about spam? Then their are splogs. There are celebrities and blogebrity’s. Mash-ups and rhapsodies. Link Fests and farms, scrapers and navigators, linkers and talkers, readers and commentators.

OMG and WTF Technorati 2000 bloggers.

I am telling you all to SHUT-UP already today.

end.

Suggestive conspiracies and chimes – are they real

Try hugs not drugs button campaign – the teachers walked around putting their arms between the grades 4-5 students as they danced, abruptly nudging either sober 8-10 year old gender an arm’s length apart from each-other. Ecstasy is mainstream now. Try drugs for hugs.

Pacman – eat as many as you can

Blue and red striped bounce ball – given to school age children to play with in the early eighties. Pepsi connection?
Pepsi = is pep

People who believe that they are not succumb to advertising only need think back upon their childhood. Church, government and third generation corporations are currently commencing their forth, 20-30 year stint together. 😉

Widgets Lab played the ding ding ding N.B.C. a-ling to me. I went back and checked again and there it chimed once more. Sound pollution advertising. I won’t be returning. I don’t care who owns you. Repetitive jingles without user choice installed. Not.

UPDATE – Thank you Derek for changing the Gabbly chat window (causing the chime) to inCirles which has no sound.
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Cooked – then I ate it.

Rediscovering that it was periods of time during schooling growing up, maybe… anxiety disorders arrise from lack of healthy interaction in pre-teen thru adolescent years. Adults who experience non-rational, mean, plain unkindness or lack of respect as a human being, as kids continue on

What is the feeling of abandonment. Does it feel like hell. Could it feel freeing for someone else? Have you ever waited for anger to rear it’s head. Sitting quietly, then almost violently it catches you, spins you around, then throws you oblivious-to-direction only to be caught again. *You know, learning this anger mangement release in healthy – I hate that word. What does healthy actually mean; are you healthy? Healthy is an ideal that does not exist. Healthy is only relevant to the one experiencing the feeling of Health. I think too many words these days have been adopted by mass media, twisted and burned into a fragmented, forced upon ideal we all had to digest raw. Fuck. When I got angry growing up most would just laugh. My reaction to anger as an adult, modestly has clothed itself into a smile. Why do I have to smile all the time. Yea-t now the laughter begins. As soon as anger envelops me it is torn smitherines by laughter or sheer silence.

Could this actually fucking be the discovery that a great way to deal with anger is to create with it any way you want.

Local Fact – Vancouver has been experiencing freak natural one hit wonders during the night while we sleep. The latest victom was no less, beloved Stanley Park. Um. Why are all you people giving money to Mr. Park, that just recieved a natural mother natural blow of wind, and high seas. His veins roads mind you are in great dis-repair and urgently need to be fixed. However what I don’t understand is the buying of more trees to fill the park. What if you just let the public go in and plant a tree if they want. As of tonight the park has earned 40K from private donation to replant trees. I like trees don’t get me wrong. My favorite tree in the park across from me was felled after the storm; chainsawed down by man to the ground. Wouldn’t a death by mother nature be a natural way to go from the living to the dead. This causes thoughts of carrots. Yanking carrots out of the ground, rapidly cutting, slicing off the beautiful green leafy stems, left to wither on the ground, only to be devoured in our mouthes with rock hard calcium deposits. Folks that was a murdered carrot, cooked and then, I ate it. Oh help me god!

Sometimes things happen that are awful in life. It can’t be that bad to remember them. This time around though the anger and I will subside.

*unedited ’cause it just makes sense.

He and I ran so far away

Ever get the urge to begin again? These urges tend to arrive unbidden. The urges could make you smile. They possibly are relevant and more real than once you perceived them to be. Do you run away? Or do you bunker down for the long term and take a stance for what you believe in? And what is it that we believe in, as individuals and with those relative to your life?

This belief system we have all learned through living, is something I question everyday. Is there such a thing as calm; such a thing as calm within the mind; per-say a quieting of thoughts, a quieting of self-talk in the head. I search for the ultimate calm. The ultimate awakening of doing. Just doing with no thinking, no intrusion, no afterthought, no questions and no repetitive noise. Maybe odd to you in the fact that in many ways I am not you. Nor am I your mother.

Transition of one life to the next life is a testament to your ability to adapt, accept and in allowing yourself to experience emotion without thinking about it, could be, the greatest gift you give yourself.

Recently my boyfriend, Eric left our home to experience his life elsewhere. I miss him so much. I get scared to share these experiences while they are happening. Been true in real life as it is online. My instinct is to share but for some reason (note the mind works in mysterious ways), there is a questioning Jessica inside of my head! I’ve reached a boiling point and feel like bubbling over coating everything in my world with a cascade of memory so that I may do the so-called moving-on-thing that most do after a relationship ends or changes.

The thing is, I’m having trouble prioritizing. P.r.i.o.r.i.t.i.z.a.t.i.o.n. Prioritization is a particularly dreadful word to me. It carries a connotation of record keeping, taxes, rent, food and pretty much all else associated with monetary financial one needs to live. How do you as a person wrap your head around the need to earn a living. Why do we need to earn our right to life. Isn’t it possible to simply live without the daily naggings of money. Fuck. Now I sound like the woman who needs a man to live. LMAO! Truly this thought is causing me to bend over laughing. What else can I say but, dammit!

Purley there are thoughts that come unbidden to my head and I like to write them out, giving some train-of-thought to a topic I may be writing. Juan, feels differently though. 😉 He has some strong opinions of me. Here are some of his thoughts from the comment he left on the Birthday Post recently.

You illiterate free-loader, you cannot see the sun set and rise simultaneously.
Simultaneously means…

This is possible when one is flying in an aircraft and looking out the windows and also when one is dreaming, Juan from Montreal :). I have experienced both. I hope someday you can to. I am illiterate when it comes to foreign languages other than french and very basic Spanish which I do understand. I can read, speak and think in English. I actually pay for my website and am not free-loading if that was your intentional meaning, SpamJuan. That is what I will call you. SpamJuan. Has a nice ring to it.

*The words written about I ran so far away on YouTube.

He sang this walking upstairs to our apartment on November 10, 2006. He has since run away. His date of departure from our home on December 16, 2006.

I love you Eric.

This video is not edited in any way shape or form.

Angry Banking Brain Blog Snowball! Poof!

I seem to go through periods of time that involve me, asking more questions than I can answer. Before finishing or beginning to answer a question, one needs to be able to calm down to look at the possible answers. It is a strange but illuminating experience to actually jump to the other side. All one can do is laugh or get angry. I think that’s why I like Mr. Angry. His humour, yes I say humour because it is. He doesn’t pretty it up except with a visual facial costume.

Mr. Angry News.When I first watched Mr. Angry’s videos I couldn’t actually get thru them. OMG how aw-ful; not the videos, but me. Really this just made me mad, because I couldn’t watch nor listen to anger. This emotion eludes me more than any other. Anger tends to be seen as abnormal or psychotic in society; generally speaking. Anger can be those things, but it can resemble other emotions such as humour, love or boredom. We need to recognize our anger as much as our happiness or we risk the full tide of emotion, we as humans are privelidge to experience.

When the questions start, they gently start accumulating in grandeur; not unlike a snowball one is rolling in the snow. This white ball can be too much to continue rolling; for size and/or weight may overcome physical strength or one could let it fly down a mountain side. Either way this big ball of human creation will meet it’s final destination. It’s going to melt regardless of whether it be at the bottom or atop the hill. Melt I say! I go through question period nearly everyday. I actively need to alleviate, release or calm these questions. In the past as it is present I more than likely create with these questions in search of an answer, except when I’m feeling anger.

These past few weeks whether by fate or sub-concious choice I am flip-flopping about. It got worse when I went for four days with no paxil. But the funny thing is this, after the initial shock withdrawal wore off, my head cleared as my drive returned. I could answer questions creatively with ease. I got a burst of emotion that had felt locked up for over two years now. On the fifth day I took the three pretty pink pills. Ahhh I don’t know about this. But I kind of feel like paxil has quieted my right brain too much. I have tonnes of drive and ideas, albeit the spark to continue, to see them through wains more often than not lately. I want to. I would like to. Tomorrow. These tomorrow’s are becoming repetative. I want to own MY brain again. The continuous dialogue is old now.

This anger within needs reckoning. Silent rage was my answer to anger for many years. You know the silent female who secretly freaks out when no one is looking.

I woke up late today. I had to go to the bank today. Both Eric and I are resentful of having chosen this bank. Some things are good and then there are the rotten apples. Fuck, even now I am angered, I want to withdraw and go lay down or cry but best of all, become numb. Dealing doesn’t seem to be an option in my brain. I want the anger to go away. To die. Poof! There will be no more problems of not being able to deposit cheques, work cheques, and recieve the money immediately without the ole “We’ll have to hold this for seven days crap”. We became quite inventive to get the money, we rightfully deserve and earned. I began depositing everything into my account through the bank machine. Ha! Biggest issue with this bank is this; they refuse to cash Eric’s pay-checques. Rarely a tickled teller, teases and stamps the paycheque just so. Eric has been working for the same company for TWO years now. It is high time this institution accept that fact also. He wouldn’t continue working for this company if the cheques were falsified. Thank you fearmongering hats-full-of-money-big-mouthed money-mongerers for making the post 9/11 everyday world a little harder to cope with.

You can call this creative process, inspiration. Many do. Most artists get off on this stuff, at least some of my friends do. I can only look on and wonder why my process is a melting pod rather than a launch pad. Once I’m launched I’m ok. It is that pod-pad transition aloofness causing delay. The liquid starter I was hooked on once, eliminated or reduced greatly this transition disorder. It was recreational. It turned the ignition. There was say, seven of so wonderful months of pure genious. I miss my GHB. Fuck that is hard to write. If there is anything I hate hate more, the struggle taking place in my brain between right and wrong, good or bad and so on and so forth. Does everyone have this battle going on? To some extent I’m assuming yes. I also believe none of us react the same way to a dilemma or arrive at an answer in the same way. It’s really hard to know you found an answer that worked very well for some time and KNOW you can’t risk answering the question that way anymore. I don’t miss addiction. I am a female addict. That is hard to write as well. What is harder even still, is that this post will be read.
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In my anger I did not even title this post and have come back to write this as the title.

As a young child I retreated to my bedroom to under the blankets into my bubble. The bubble was my world where I could not get hurt, where I could look out and quietly ponder all that was reality without fear of attack because my ideas were not those of the norm. I just stepped out of that bubble moments ago again remembering, thinking, unable to focus on anything but drops of water creating rings as they landed on the inside of my eylids chrystaline clear. I am tired of being misunderstood.

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Erratic Eroticism Censored

Creating a title for a posting is a troubling thing sometimes. The word ‘sometimes’ is a word I am particularly tired of writing. There is this word censorship that’s been bubblin’ around in my head today. I am feeling censored. I am feeling censored from myself today. Does that make sense to any of you? This is when I miss drugs. I get so gung hoe about an idea that it excites me beyond belief, to a point of exploding physically and emotionally if I can’t get the idea out fast enough. What do you after the damn excitement wains and you are left with the idea uncompleted? This is one time where I do NOT want to throw blame on anyone else but myself. So, here I am, censored and angry.

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