I survived that black dog, (duh! could I write this if I didn't) and later wrote of things better.
Vita contin git. Vive com eo
I'm still here, whether that is a good or bad thing is not for me to decide.
I'm OK in my skin at the moment, if it stays that way.... who knows, certainly not I.
I've found solace in a strange place. A bunch of politically incorrect people who's only (tenuous) connection to my mindset is a common love of motorcycles. They do not judge, do not deride, feel no need to place people on a pedestal nor ridicule for dissenting beliefs.
By the fuck they are supportive.
They are a very strange, eclectic mix. Some look like lawyers or legal types, some close to absolute outlaws. Look at a few and you'd cross to the other side of the street, covering your child's eyes lest they be corrupted. Some you would swear were the "elite" of society, or of a similarity to those wonderful souls who donate their time, efforts and souls to the selfless service of others. None would ever be a politician, unless they perceived a need to sacrifice their values for the greater good. All are of the same mold as our most revered, the ANZAC's
Every one of them, I believe this without the slightest doubt, would give everything they have to help another of the group. You wouldn't even have to ask. They are wonderful people.
Not one would ask, or expect, anything in return.
They all have the cojones to say their mind, and do not feel intimidated or threatened in allowing an individual to speak theirs in riposte. Mind you, say something stupid, speak just for the sake of reading your words, or hearing your own voice, step over the very accommodating line, and you get what you deserve, best you have the strength to cop it sweet and the humility to recognise and admit the error.
This is just what I need. Of all the people I have known, with some very special (to me) exceptions (you know who you are), these people do not judged me. They have helped me, accepted me, supported me. They suffer the rants, ignore the inane comment, accept the pathetic attempt at humour. They are good people. They are my people (whether they like it or not)
Funny, as I typed that I had a Swedish You tube clip of supermotard riders running in the background, the overlaid music is "all my friends are criminals", I laughed.
They are not criminals that I know (well, some might indulge in "civil disobedience" at times), but they are certainly frowned on by the mainstream of society today. I look up to and respect these people, for they are real, they are of their own making, they are individuals. They just happen to have a common interest that has brought them together.
The government of every state, and the commonwealth of this country are trying very hard to alienate these people, my friends, from "mainstream" society. That is sad. No doubt, after us will be the next "easy target" minority group. Anything not as beige as a compliant population will be the focus of bureaucratic red tape, "safety" campaigns and erroneous, en-needed legislation.
Lex malla, lex nulla.
I think the gum'nt is worried, anxious that there are still thinking individuals lurking in society.
I have no idea when, or if, that bastard black dog of depression will try to bite me. But I do know that I have a fucking awesome group of people who will be there when I need help. That's probably always been true, but this mob are the first to get through to me. For that I'm grateful.
I do know I still hopelessly miss the big boof headed black Labrador Max. But he's doing a much more important job at the moment, I know he's doing me proud, onya boy!
Dogs are good people, so much a nobler beast than us pathetic humans.
It's strange, but tapping away at the keyboard, filling a part of "teh interwebs" with bytes of inane ramblings, is the only way I seem to be able to rationalise things.
Fuck me, I just heard the "last post", it's brought tears to my eyes.
I'm possibly getting a tad emotional, but I like to think of this group of friends I've found in the same way as I felt when I was a soldier. Disparate ideals, dreams and ambitions worlds apart. In any other context they would most likely resent me. But one small, tenuous link has joined us.
It has, for now at least, kept my head above water.
I'm OK in my skin at the moment, if it stays that way.... who knows, certainly not I.
I've found solace in a strange place. A bunch of politically incorrect people who's only (tenuous) connection to my mindset is a common love of motorcycles. They do not judge, do not deride, feel no need to place people on a pedestal nor ridicule for dissenting beliefs.
By the fuck they are supportive.
They are a very strange, eclectic mix. Some look like lawyers or legal types, some close to absolute outlaws. Look at a few and you'd cross to the other side of the street, covering your child's eyes lest they be corrupted. Some you would swear were the "elite" of society, or of a similarity to those wonderful souls who donate their time, efforts and souls to the selfless service of others. None would ever be a politician, unless they perceived a need to sacrifice their values for the greater good. All are of the same mold as our most revered, the ANZAC's
Every one of them, I believe this without the slightest doubt, would give everything they have to help another of the group. You wouldn't even have to ask. They are wonderful people.
Not one would ask, or expect, anything in return.
They all have the cojones to say their mind, and do not feel intimidated or threatened in allowing an individual to speak theirs in riposte. Mind you, say something stupid, speak just for the sake of reading your words, or hearing your own voice, step over the very accommodating line, and you get what you deserve, best you have the strength to cop it sweet and the humility to recognise and admit the error.
This is just what I need. Of all the people I have known, with some very special (to me) exceptions (you know who you are), these people do not judged me. They have helped me, accepted me, supported me. They suffer the rants, ignore the inane comment, accept the pathetic attempt at humour. They are good people. They are my people (whether they like it or not)
Funny, as I typed that I had a Swedish You tube clip of supermotard riders running in the background, the overlaid music is "all my friends are criminals", I laughed.
They are not criminals that I know (well, some might indulge in "civil disobedience" at times), but they are certainly frowned on by the mainstream of society today. I look up to and respect these people, for they are real, they are of their own making, they are individuals. They just happen to have a common interest that has brought them together.
The government of every state, and the commonwealth of this country are trying very hard to alienate these people, my friends, from "mainstream" society. That is sad. No doubt, after us will be the next "easy target" minority group. Anything not as beige as a compliant population will be the focus of bureaucratic red tape, "safety" campaigns and erroneous, en-needed legislation.
Lex malla, lex nulla.
I think the gum'nt is worried, anxious that there are still thinking individuals lurking in society.
I have no idea when, or if, that bastard black dog of depression will try to bite me. But I do know that I have a fucking awesome group of people who will be there when I need help. That's probably always been true, but this mob are the first to get through to me. For that I'm grateful.
I do know I still hopelessly miss the big boof headed black Labrador Max. But he's doing a much more important job at the moment, I know he's doing me proud, onya boy!
Dogs are good people, so much a nobler beast than us pathetic humans.
It's strange, but tapping away at the keyboard, filling a part of "teh interwebs" with bytes of inane ramblings, is the only way I seem to be able to rationalise things.
Fuck me, I just heard the "last post", it's brought tears to my eyes.
I'm possibly getting a tad emotional, but I like to think of this group of friends I've found in the same way as I felt when I was a soldier. Disparate ideals, dreams and ambitions worlds apart. In any other context they would most likely resent me. But one small, tenuous link has joined us.
It has, for now at least, kept my head above water.
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