| Cripple Chronicles: Issue 10, The Good Die Young |
[14 Nov 2009|05:16am] |
And I'm the best. I was diagnosed with Type 1 Spinal Muscular Atrophy, also known as Werdnigg-Hoffman Disease, at eight months old. My parents were told that I wouldn't live past two, and with good reason. Infantile onset (Type 1) is the most sever form of SMA, with the highest mortality rate, and the disease itself is the top inherited killer of children under two. A small number of those diagnosed with Type 1 survive to their teens and early adulthood, which is exactly where I'm at, and there really aren't any statistics representing those who go on beyond this.
The main reason for the high death count has to do with the (disease's) weakness' effect on the lungs and throat. A very weak cough combined with Dysphagia, a secondary condition that results in having difficulties swallowing, leads to a dramatic increase in the chance of battling with respiratory infections and pneumonia. I've had pneumonia eight or nine times; it isn't as cut and dry as it may seem. My white-blood count has been as high as 50,000, and my blood-sugar has been as low as 25, while conscious and talking even. I've lost count of how many stomach viruses I've had. I'm a VIP at Mobile Infirmary's ER, which gives me exclusive access to an imaginary Fast Lane. My familiarity of the hospital and its policies rivals that of the staff, and my comfort with needles hints towards a heroin addiction, or diabetes. I could write a short book detailing my experiences with I.V.'s and having blood drawn. I can usually tell what's being injected into me with my eyes closed. Saline is cool and accompanied with a light salty smell on the back of your throat. Phenergan has a mild burn that soothes as it lingers. Demerol tinges just enough for you to feel it make it fade away, and tastes like the smell of a clean lab. Potassium feels like lava, never again.
I'm close to death often. I've accepted it – my dear mother, I put her through hell over that so many times during various hospital stays; she's always there – some say you're never really prepared for death until it happens, but even if you aren't by then, it's still goin' down. It's hard to say how valuable resolve is, but I have it in spades. I hold onto life like I'm going somewhere, and there's at least a hundred years of shit to be done, but I may only have just a few left to complete this time machine.
What, then, will we do with the little time that we do have? Oh yes, that involves you too! That is what this is all about after all, knowing one another, so that we might enjoy one another. I only want you good people to know me enough to find the chances worth taking. I adore the awkward moments; they nearly all grow into great stories. I just want the stories. The memories. I have some damn good ones already, so here's to you helping me make some new ones, and perhaps not remembering some of those times too, if we do it right. Here's to doing the undone and saying the unsaid, and to pretending that's even possible! Here's to makin' it to the Singularity! Here's to trying!
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| Late night announcement |
[14 Nov 2009|05:15am] |
I've decided to temporarily stop writing the Cripple Chronicles. You're devastated, I know. This is so I can more easily concentrate on other trivial projects, and in the meantime, figure out where I'd like to take the series from here, if anywhere. I'm telling you because for a limited time only, I'm offering hard copies (printed, that is) of these first ten issues! Not because they're worth it, but because of a couple requests from people that don't like reading off of screens. Anyway, if you want one, it's pretty easy to let me know.
Oh yea, the tenth issue, I give you with absolutely no ado...
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| Cripple Chronicles: Issue 9, Trust the Cripple |
[06 Nov 2009|03:51am] |
People can not be trusted, unless they must be, that is. This is when we encounter trust, when we have to; when there's little else to choose from. A cursed few delight in knowing that their well being, or their property for that matter, is directly controlled by the actions of another. Expectedly problematic psychological tendencies arise due to being constantly reminded that, with or without trust, we are not the only deciders of our worlds.
There is apparent glory to be found in self-sufficiency, as we grasp at fuzzy strands of it like spoiled children, but counterintuitive as it may be, the urge remains strong in most to prove, at least to themselves, that they don't NEED anyone else to... (this is where it gets tricky) be happy? Make it? Survive? Compete with? And then on the other hand, there is the blatantly transparent and coincidentally comparable longing for love and companionship that the general audience exudes so awkwardly. Do we not trust that others will love us? Should we? I don't see why we should, other than because of patterns, of people being together, working with each other, and loving one another for thousands of years. These truths offer none of the vague guarantees that always follow “trust” around, but they say something of us humans and how we often tend to interact with those around us. They tell me that people are going to do what it takes to meet their desires, and often times, there exists someone else that, by having their own, similar desires, allows the two to meet their own desires more effectively by aiding one another. I find that the essence of trust and friendship fall from these base observations.
It's been stated that I'm forced to trust people. Hardly. I'm forced, instead, to attempt to master the ancient and nearly lost arts of relations and civility. I know, an odd claim coming from such an asshole, but trust isn't necessary if all parties are clear on the consequences regarding their actions. Miscommunication and misunderstandings are at the root of distrust and seemingly selfish acts; honest and concise speech is usually enough to avoid such casualties. People are selfish by design, to survive, and not by fault; understanding this trait of self preservation removes some of the negative connotations tied to the term “selfish.” There is no selflessness. Being named doesn't make something real. The most selfish thing a person can do is try to be selfless.
It's much easier then, for me, not to trust all the people that I must have help me to not hurt me, but to know that they know that it's best for all of our situations for them to try not to (hurt me). Others need not trust that I won't wrong or hurt them, as they should know that my weak ass has no business startin' shit. Trust doesn't make bad things not happen; it's merely accepting that interests can align, and can be encouraged to do so.
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| Post post-holiday post picture post |
[02 Nov 2009|03:18am] |
Nazi Jesus, post smores. Kyle's finger.
Jeff, possessed Nazi Jesus, Kyle.
Wilson, the Jolly Anarchist, and Stallon "Stacy" Little Rat Shit.
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| Predictable post-holiday-post |
[01 Nov 2009|03:23pm] |
With the exception of three shrimp, I've eaten nothing but candy and smores for some 30 somethin hours. And don't nobody lay out a smore spread like this body do; there was regular milk, dark, almond, and Symphony chocolate - regular, strawberry, and coconut marshmallows - regular and chocolate gram crackers. That's 24 variations of smore with just one piece of each! I Think! You start mixing and matching and the numbers become too mystical for me to even pretend to calculate. I said buffet bitches. We kept a fire burning till near day break. There was much smoke. I cast my general indifference on those who should have dropped by.
I've been playin on a mic more lately. I've lost count of pseudosongs, but there's now a handful of audibly tolerable noises been assembled that just lack proper recording.
In tuning the left, let us not forget that the right remains. Don't confuse what you allow, understand, and justify. Do not let your way lead you, but let it show you where you might step.
Am I the only motherfucker that likes eggnog?
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| You missed me, I know. |
[26 Sep 2009|06:08pm] |
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Yesterday was spent in Starkville, Mississippi with Kyle, T, Jeff, and Bikeman for a free Third Eye Blind show at MSU. Dear lord, does that campus put South's to shame. The concert was intense, and the crowd was the tightest and largest that I've yet to be swallowed by. My right arm was casually pulverized as I couldn't keep all arms and legs inside the vehicle due to constantly having to turn my chair off from people, thankfully mostly attractive females, bumping/grinding against me and turning it on; only a brief moment of my chair being on in a crowd like that is enough time for someone to move my joystick in a manner that could unintentionally start a moshpit/kill small children. Also, James Brown was there.
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| Our manner is the hard part. |
[07 Sep 2009|04:54pm] |
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I'm currently frustrated by the apparent futility of my efforts; I should be apathetic, like I am with so much else. That's what the teachings say. It's difficult not to care sometimes. I'm also having a hard time finding activities anyone wants to do with me other than smoke and watch movies, of which I've seen several good ones recently. It's nice outside. I think I'm about to get my hair trimmed.
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| Yes, math will haunt you in your dreams. |
[31 Aug 2009|10:33pm] |
Did you know that waking someone up involves math?
When you sleep, your brain and ears maintain a reactive filter to help you get your rest and not wake up to every little noise. The body is constantly trying to determine if it's being “alerted” or “disturbed,” and this distinction dictates if you wake up, or just roll over. Obviously, if the body feels that it's being alerted by some noise, it will awaken. However, if it's under the impression that it's just being disturbed, it does more than simply stay asleep; it labels the disturbance, specifically, the noise, as an annoyance in an effort to keep it from being detected to the point of alerting, to the point of waking. In essence, the sensitivity to that specific stimuli is slightly lowered, thus shifting the consideration of said stimuli from “alert,” and towards “disturbance.” This effectively increases the amount of the noise that is needed before it's reconsidered to be an alert. Now, because this process is reactive, every time that the noise is presented, and it's not the required amount of the noise to alert, the required amount of the noise to alert increases. Here's where the fun (read: math) comes in:
If x = required amount of noise present to be considered an alert,
and y = amount of noise presented,
then,
if y < x, then x = y +1.
Ideally, one wants
x < y < z,
where z = amount of noise necessary to wake the whole house.
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| For you're judgmental pleasure: |
[24 Aug 2009|03:45am] |
Shinraunit: been watching starcraft alot lately
Shinraunit: hotels and stuff
Shinraunit: cable has 24h starcraft channels
TheMostUniqueSN: lucky
TheMostUniqueSN: alot? seriously dude?
Shinraunit: well
Shinraunit: no
Shinraunit: which was zero
Shinraunit: but now that im home I dont get SC channel
TheMostUniqueSN: a lot, dumbass
Shinraunit: You're in no postion to criticize my typing
Shinraunit: and I've been using 'alot' for decades
TheMostUniqueSN: i'm not?
Shinraunit: you typed 'lookin' earlier
Shinraunit: Where's the 'g' bro?
Shinraunit: Where's the motherfuckin G???
TheMostUniqueSN: that's slang, not a word that doesn't fucking exist!
Shinraunit: alot is slang
Shinraunit: look it up in the fucking slang dictionary
TheMostUniqueSN: alot is wrong
Shinraunit: You're wrong.
TheMostUniqueSN: no, your is wrong
Shinraunit: you mean 'yourS' is wrong?
TheMostUniqueSN: no, I mean your's wrong
Shinraunit: your don't use an apostrophe in your's
Shinraunit: dumbass
Shinraunit: like this
Shinraunit: "Yours is wrong."
Shinraunit: that's it
TheMostUniqueSN: your doesn't use an apostrophy ever
Shinraunit: you use apostrophy with yours
TheMostUniqueSN: bullshit
Shinraunit: [17:27] TheMostUniqueSN: no, I mean your's wrong
TheMostUniqueSN: right, I said it was wrong
Shinraunit: But I never said "yours"
TheMostUniqueSN: no, but your "alot" was wrong, too
Shinraunit: why did you bring up "yours" if I never said it
Shinraunit: You are trying to cover your ass because you said "your's" genuinely and are trying to pass it off as if you're merely correcting me and its not your actual words
TheMostUniqueSN: because "your's" is wrong, and YOUR "alot" was wrong too, you notgettinthejoke motherfucker!
Shinraunit: I don't get the joke but I do get the bad CYA attempt
TheMostUniqueSN: uh huh, we'll see what the internet says about this
Shinraunit: the answer is at the end of the internet.
TheMostUniqueSN: I was thinking livefacespace
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| Kathryn, I found your foo cup. |
[20 Aug 2009|03:06am] |
I woke up to the sounds of a strangely energetic blowjob. Warm wetness is slapping against my face rhythmically; a large, cool, blackness brushes lightly behind it, going up and down, up and down. It keeps interrupting what fuzzily appear to be two beautiful, big, brown eyes, so full of eagerness, and yet only half open and awake. G'mornin Wilson; I love you too, but please stop tearing microscopic pieces of flesh off of my nose now.
I haven't been sleeping well. Certain instances are easily enough explained by whatever the hell I was doing that day, but the consistency of the issue, I believe, may be unrelated. I've acquired some sort of (muscle) tension that I consciously have to relax away, usually several times, before I can sleep. I can't pin down the root this is stemming from, though the top suspect is physical stress. I think I took for granted the many years of relative comfort, and am now having difficulty acknowledging and expressing the progression of physical pain I've been experiencing. It's troublesome to think of where this could so easily lead.
There are things in our heads that we show only some, and surely, only some can see these things. I think that the two do not overlap as often as they ought.
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| I'm disgusting |
[14 Aug 2009|09:00pm] |
What are your preferences, and why should I prefer them over mine? The fact that they are yours is not reason enough, as it's just that, a fact. You don't have to defend or justify them, but if you can't, why have them around?
Can anyone tell me what attraction is? Or even what it's not? Is it biology? Love. Lust. Good. Useful. Distracting. Necessary. Pain. Hope. Any of these, none, or all? Are we really all this insecure? I guess it's just a chance to defy, or prove, that we are.
It makes sense, I suppose, being a man of discrimination, that I constantly see these possibilities, that something might work, that some mutual level of understanding may be present and enjoyable. But what is a possibility without initiative or intent? An acceptable loss. And the contrary? An annoyance. Do you live in the middle?
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| Your friends are classy if |
[09 Aug 2009|05:07pm] |
after a party, only all the good booze is gone.
I'm quite tired, still. Yesterday was long, and I thank everyone that helped me celebrate, and prepare to, too. Most of the people I wanted to come, came, and there was little room for those that didn't, anyway. Still, those that told me they were coming, and didn't, should take this time to reflect on their obviously bad decision not to attend and feel bad. The water battle, though starting a bit late, and still before many of the guests arrived, was fairly epic. There will probably be a similar, more food oriented party over here soon. On a more fattening note, for more than one reason, and because some of you can't trust your friends as much as you think you can, when you ask me if you can bring a friend(s) over here, I'm going to have to start saying no, again, as I really only said yes to everyone for this specific event.
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| Need input input input |
[28 Jul 2009|03:45pm] |
I'm still coughing shit up, but the volume decreases daily. I really should have asked for some pain meds, though. I need to make a grocery run, hard. How have YOU been?
Next Saturday, my birthday party, here. You don't have to bring anything, unless you want beer, 'cause I'm only pickin' up liquor. If you need directions, just ask; I really don't feel I should have to say that, but other people seem to, so I figure it's an area of confusion for some. Bring clothes to get wet. I'll be reminding you next week, 'cause I know ya'll be doin' shit that affects memory and the like.
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| Cripple Chronicles: Issue 8, Cripple Calculations |
[27 Jul 2009|11:25pm] |
The issues of importance, relevance, and practicality damn near haunt me. You see, if I'm doing something that may be a waste of time, it's likely that I'm wasting someone else's time as well as mine, and that's like twice as bad. For this, I measure everything; even abstracts can be encapsulated to some degree. With this, equality is entirely abstract, and pretty much thrown out the metaphysical window in my head. I joke about being an elitist, though the truth in it pertains to seeing our individual strengths and weaknesses. Cripples are really the ultimate proof that equality is only a conceptual ideal.
Who's time is mine more valuable than? When do my wants become needs? For the most part, I let others determine these things indirectly. The most compassionate and effective method of measure I've managed is to constantly gauge the willingness of those that help me, to help me. They tell me in an array of ways, but mostly in tones and/or groans of acknowledgement, the amount of time between when I ask and when they start to do what I asked, and how many times I, or someone else, has to remind them of what I asked. This doesn't mean that I expect people to hop up, smile, and jump on my every request, but that I have to pay attention to these things; the general willingness of a person to help me in relation to the rest of the people in the room willing to help me, weighed against the relative importance of my request determines if and who I ask for help. It would be ridiculous of me to assume, or even be convinced, that just because someone is okay with helping me get a drink means that they can deal with helping me do everything all the time; I have to spread myself out.
Thoughts of this nature are especially confusing and necessary when it comes to the possible affections of a pretty girl. It's quite natural to feel an urge to help those that you're attracted to, so is she just being nice to a helpless cripple, or does she want to ride me like a mechanical bull? Who fuckin' knows? What it boils down to, though, is that I will impose myself on females less in an effort to reduce the amount of the shit I have to pretend to decipher that they do and say to me.
No one is my equal, and everyone sits on a scale. Aww shit, it's time for another rap...
I can't climb a tree,
but I know the root of three.
You can throw a rock,
and I know its trajectory.
We're not the same
and it's not lame,
but it's insane and inane
to blame the perfectly sane
for what they never had to gain.
Like a girly curse, it's a dame shame.
Run faster, jump higher,
or calculate who to hire.
You don't have to be the best,
but don't be the rest.
It's time to drop the excuses
where everyone loses,
'cause when it comes to equality,
that shit's below me.
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| Mormons are cocs |
[27 Jul 2009|12:34am] |
Patrick: i did want to tell you though...
Patrick: random trivia you may find interesting
Me: ok
Patrick: the church of christ name was actually first applied to mormons
Patrick: they actually split off from the churches of christ
Me: makes sense
Me: lol
Me: coc is mormon lite
Patrick: same movement
Patrick: basically
Me: without aliens
Patrick: mormons dont believe in aliens
Me: who's that?
Patrick: scientologists
Patrick: they just have extra books and used to do polygamy
Me: no, their god lives on a planet behind jupiter or some shit
Patrick: oh yeah
Patrick: kolob
Me: yea!
Patrick: thats mormons...never was "official church teaching" though
Me: still in the books
Patrick: yeah
Patrick: actually i think they took it out
Patrick: like the part where it says black people would turn white when they became mormon
Patrick: they took that out too
Me: don't care, still +10 to dumbassery
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| Pimp my yard |
[22 Jul 2009|08:35pm] |
All is well in the land of TBRC. Well, mostly; there is that one issue... Where does one man's lack of respect break another's compassion? I think that it shouldn't, but it does, and we're there.
You're lovely.
If you're feeling uncomfortable, it's ok; you're learning. The illusion of normality will return once you have properly assimilated the new information, or have forgotten it completely.
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| 120/80 - 100 - 98.6 |
[21 Jul 2009|03:11pm] |
Vitals have normalized. I'm back at home. It's funny: due to laziness and irresponsibility, the house looks better than when I left. Other than some intensely lucid and odd dreams, little of interest occurred during my stay, there anyway. Here. Well, that's a whole other unfinished story.
I'd like to be closer to certain people, but I don't know at who's expense.
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| Canily Fawn O'er |
[04 Jul 2009|12:30am] |
Went to Waterville today. I paid to birdwatch. The view could have been better; as purely a spectator, I noticed a direct relation between distance from the ground and physical shapeliness/attractiveness (both sexes, but mostly the fairer). No Rehab. Figures. Family reunion tomorrow.
To Timidly Honor
a Heavenly Wander,
round that which they Donned Her.
I'm stuck in your name.
I Vividly Ponder
and Wickedly Wonder
how I Civily Con'r.
The sound is the same.
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| All is either here or there |
[24 Jun 2009|01:18am] |
a friend: what are you doing?
TheMostUniqueSN: readin wikipedia
a friend: what in particular?
TheMostUniqueSN: yourself?
a friend: looking at ring slol
a friend: er rings
TheMostUniqueSN: what kind?
a friend: uhm
TheMostUniqueSN: i should get a pimp ring, so bitches recognise
a friend: sort of engagement ones
a friend: lol
a friend: yo ushould
TheMostUniqueSN: why egagement ones?
a friend: I'm engaged....just haven't been telling ppl lol
TheMostUniqueSN: could tell me
a friend: just did
a friend: :-)
TheMostUniqueSN: why are you getting married?
a friend: a bunch of reasons
a friend: health insurance, love, car insurance, next step in life. there are tax benefits.
TheMostUniqueSN: those are mostly horrible reasons, with the exception of health insurance.
a friend: lol
a friend: thanks
TheMostUniqueSN: you wanted my opinion
TheMostUniqueSN: i used to know a lot of good jewelry sites, but I been single and lonely too long, and have since forgotten them/lost the .txt file
TheMostUniqueSN: pimp rang
Shit's been weird, but not overly so. I've slowly returned to mostly reading, writing, and playing with music and related remedies of relieving restlessness. Plenty of movie viewing and cooking still, but working in social ventures seems to hinder all the rest; I guess that's what they call life: choosing what you want to shit on, at the moment. I've been shitting on my comic writing for a while now. It's not that I'm not seeing the funny, but sometimes what is hysterical to me is so dark and pathetic that no one will ever laugh at it publicly. It is fucking hot.
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| Measure this! |
[05 Jun 2009|04:13am] |
I've been contending with the issues of relevance and utility. What is the relevance of happiness when the utility of relevance is concerned? Life and death are entirely too random for contentness to rely on stability. I say bring on the entropy.
Thoughts, opinions, stances, rages, loves, they're all so fleeting. S'why I haven't been writing; I'm such a different person between days, that it's sometimes difficult to justify putting something that I know will change with the hours down in words. Other things don't deserve words, and some are only mocked by them. False realizations are easy to write about, but to move past them so smoothly that you can't recall who you were before them is the art of a wise man. Or a drunk one.
We all get caught up in our own worlds from time to time, usually due to being overly or under stimulated in it, or from it, for me anyway. Can't even say which a lot the times. I've been stuck in the sticky web of my head for a little while now; nothing serious, the mass of cobwebs prove it inevitable occasionally. If others could appreciate these times the way that I do, I would appreciate them all the more. However, I do need some time out of it. My head.
Kyle got a new puppy. Some Jack Russel mutt. He's cute; we'll see if he survives Wilson's clumsy affections.
And yes, this is all bullshit.
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