ow

omg, I totally feel like crying. I complimented her, I listened. She insulted a stranger in front of me, with this vague sexual repression, over-population rant. She has a ten-year-old? I have to learn how to react in such a way that acknowledges stress but remains to assist. My bad, vv. I know you didn’t mean to be insulting me, but it was hurting me. Here are my reactions.

I disagree that the world is overpopulated. Under a cooperative, working-with-nature system, this planet has the potential for nearly infinite capacity. I also disagree about sex. I especially don’t think blaming individuals, or shaming them for how they dress, is productive. I appreciate the information, as harshly as it was delivered. I tend to be a talk-responder. A polarity responder. That means I tend to contradict or disagree, and I have realized, through the years of my existence, that I do that even when I intend to agree with people. That being said, I strongly disagree with your condemnation of clothing. This was not the first time you have resorted to this rant, at or near me. As with most rants, what it tends to do is prevent any response. I have replies, or had, things to say to a number of points you made, but being prevented from raising them, I see no reason to stay to endure such an angry tone. I don’t deny you your stress, or your frustration. Life is difficult, because people are mean. Being mean in other, different ways is not, in my opinion, a useful way to make life less stressful, less painful. I should have sat next to you, shouldn’t I have. I should have asked first, if I could sit next to you.

How about this. If someone wants to ask you something, they may hang out around you until you allow them to ask. If you keep them from asking what you can tell they want to ask, by forcing other subjects, by jabbing them with politics of which you know they disagree, you are being the abuser. Yes, yes, takes one to know one. I get that. I do different things that are abusive. Do I use that word too much? I see that everywhere. It’s all too accepted, this abuse. Couples do it to one another, parents to children, children to their parents. All genders participate, mostly to get away. Or, to make others go away. How can you tell? When one party makes it unbearable to be there. Ow, ow, ow. Yes, I still consider you my family. Yes, I still consider you my friend. I trust that your stress has abated. May you find both an increased capacity to endure, and a strengthened power of communication and etheric ninjitsu which may either prevent such stressful occurances or turn them into something positive.

I learn a lot about music from “the internet’s busiest music nerd.” Thanks, Anthony Fantano.

I also learn a lot from various people I follow on twitter. God damn. My heart just got shredded. Just, like an hour and a half ago. I have not re-pieced it together. Probably from the last time. Please stop auto-capitalizing, OpenOffice.org. thanks. 1:26 pm.

last night, I had a conversation with my sister. I talked to her about dumpster diving, offering her a half of one of the pears that I was cutting/eating. I love pears. these fruits are an ironic symbol of abuse in our family, probably only from my perspective. the old man took every mention of them to notify us how he hated them. yes, the ripe, sweet fruit. I have no idea why. hate. yes, such a gutteral negative reaction to plant matter, I consider abusive. I don’t hate anything, even non-communicative, anti-communicative, abusive retards like every fucking member of my asshole family. fuck you all, I love you. yah, i’m pretty sure you do have tourettes. good thing I bit my tongue off years ago. ha. yah, right. you owe a lot of people apologies, probably. i’m sorry, everyone to whom I owe an apology. everyone I have hated stuff towards, everyone I have prevented from saying to me what should have been able to be said. I am a runner, in that I leave when I am unable to endure pains. when one makes it clear that there is no conversation to be had, there is no conversation to be had.

in less than a half an hour, I have an appointment with the owner of an accounting business. why? because it’s there, because i’m here. I better go. nice chatting with you.

Peace, love,
t

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~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2012-08-29 (Wednesday).

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