Drowning in the Tides of Life

Things are rough all over.

People who never had any frame of reference for personal
suffering or worry are now in the same boat as people
long-imagined to be wholly responsible for their own problems.

And still, despite the shared tragedies of refused medical care,
foreclosures, job losses, personal shame, and fear... we front.

We still worry over keeping up appearances.
We don't want anyone--including friends and family-- to hear our
cries for help. To know just how scared and vulnerable we are.

Instead, we smile and tell 'white lies' to cover for our misfortune
and hardship. We isolate to keep from being too close to anyone
(ironically, the one thing that might assist.) We do like we were
taught in this 'proper' country; we keep our personal problems to
ourselves.

To some extent, there is reason to not complain. To not be in a constant
state of despair and share our misery with others. After all, most
people don't want to hear about another's problems. Like a friend tells
me constantly: "Everybody got troubles; we just might not know what 
they are. But everybody got troubles."

True enough.

And last Friday night, after having sought and been denied help from
people in his community, a still-young man lashed out in the depths of
ultimate desperation. A Blakely, Georgia man shot and killed his wife
and son, attempted to kill his daughter, and turned the gun 'successfully'
on himself.

People blame the man for being a coward. For being cruel. For being
weak. For being crazy. But the real truth is that he could have been any
one of us, reeling in despair and desperation, at wit's end. Anyone could
have picked up that gun with just the right combination of leveling
disappointments and blows; that truth is why we are so angry. We are
scared that humans, including ourselves, are capable of the same.

Why didn't people notice something going on? Were they too busy
facing their own turmoils?

Why did others who were asked to help turn a blind eye? Is it because
they didn't feel the situation was bad enough?

How long will the short-lived attention to those around us last? How
long til our 'community awareness' spurred by this tragedy cedes to our
typical apathy?

Why is it necessary to demonize the man who was hurting so badly that
he could see no other solution than such a horror?

Several things come to mind.

If we don't discard the man as a crackpot, we allow the possibility that
this behavior is possible for 'normal' people, and could occur to us or
someone even closer. (Also, if we have experienced such dire fantasies,
the actualization scares us immensely. Could that be me, still?)

If it's someone we know, we have to distance ourselves from them
and our relatablity lest we feel condemned to their stigma. How could
they leave such hurt? How could they betray trust? How could they
have been so insensitive. And of course, the guilt; that if we admit
someone likely didn't just "snap" in a fit, then it means these thoughts were
simmering, and we feel we should have known and acted.

People's view of humanity, god, spirituality, and even life itself are
thrown into turmoil if we look too deeply or closely at such events.
How can there be purpose in this, if we believe in a universe where
all events are ordained? How can such a thing occur to 'good' people?
How can we, as self-identified 'good' people, have been subjected to
something so horrendous if our actions are supposed to ensure we are
cared for?

If people don't simplify such events and actions, it destroys the simplified
'black-and-white' world many live in. It opens up a Pandora's Box of
chaos and pain that is too much for most minds to conceive of. So we
gloss it over.

But what do the surviving do? How do we learn from this?

Those of us still posturing and pretending and playing the game...acting
as though death would not be a welcome release in the midst of hardships
and seemingly insurmountable odds. Everyone has passive thoughts of
suicide during bad times; "I wish God would just take me now." or "I'm
so tired of life."  But many of us, whether dealing with long-tern or newly
acquired depression have serious, active suicidal thoughts. Specific plans.
Details. Time lines.

What would make us seek help? How would others react? Is there any
help available if we should seek it?

Most people seriously considering taking their own life do so because
all other accessible or viable venues are thought to have been explored.
So death seems like a reasonable, legitimate response to the relentless
pain of life. We want the pain to end, and we equate being alive with pain,
so logically we think the end of life would be the end of death.

It seems no one cares. Event after event seems to reinforce that belief.
Every interaction with humans is more and more fuel for the fire. What's
the point in trying if the results are always the same?

Depression is not just circumstantial, it's biochemical. It's a physical
brain problem that creates emotional problems. Our thinking gets
aggravated by events, like break-ups, being shunned, embarrassing
moments, being without work, losing 'standing' in a community,
money problems, and so much more. But it's the over-exaggerated
sense of importance of these things that causes them to become
'problems.'

When we are in the midst of a problem, it seems there's no end  in
sight, and our crazy thinking tells us there is no desirable end in sight.
Then more bad things occur, we see a pattern, assume it's proof,
and continue deeper into depression. That whole sense of isolation

have the chance to find out how common our feelings are.


into play. We worry more about image than we do actual health and
welfare, and people are dying as a result.

We feel alone because we see no one else going through what we are
going through.
We feel neglected because those who supposedly care
about us don't see our pain...don't ask what they can do.
We feel under attack, dismissed, forgotten about, abandoned, mistreated,
and without resources or options.
This is what happens when we separate from one another as people.
And people do avoid us when we are in pain; the sight of another
person hurting and flailing is extremely upsetting to others, and they
may flee in confusion over what to do and discomfort.

What if we all took a deep breath and said; "I know I can't be the only
one feeling this low." How about I go into the world today with the
understanding that everybody is hurting. No matter how big their smile,
no matter how much shit they talk, no matter how mean and unconcerned
with others, let me remember that at the root of that is pain. That we all
feel disconnected and alone and hurt. That we all just want to be loved.

As we go along, maybe we'll actually see behind the plastic smiles and
the barrier of luxury and smugness to the heart of things. That people
are all basically the same, no matter how differently they express it.
Maybe the common bond would be enough to diffuse our pain, and
put our troubles in perspective. Maybe talking to someone else and
listening to their trials without being in competition to top them would
remind us that we aren't alone in a vacuum.

 Maybe if we tried reaching out, or reading up on depression, or asking
questions that aren't popular, we might find some relief. Or a kindred
spirit. We might find an online support group, or a phone number to
call, or a doctor that would not overlook our worries. Maybe if we
get honest about just how much we hurt, it would be a step towards
letting others know it's okay to be real and honest.

It may be our only chance for surviving. Even the best swimmers need
help when they're drowning. The tides of life overtake all of us on
occasion; don't let someone's demeanor convince you otherwise.
You are not alone.

Guys With Big Cocks Rule the Planet

It may not be scientifically provable, but I'd say
there's a preponderance of common sense evidence
to support this.

Look at it this way; no world-ruling guy who has
a micro-cock is going to do that reveal.

Famous big dicks with big dicks include (but
are not limited to) Jack Nicholson, Dick Cheney,
Lyndon B. Johnson, Dan Rather, Colin Farrell,
Rasputin, Frank Sinatra, Milton Berle,  &; Wilt
Chamberlain.

There seems a self-explanatory correlation between
big packages and the supreme confidence to go
where you will, do what you want, say what you wish.



Now, which came first; the assumption that a big
dick was their passport to success, or other people's
valuing of the organ as a validation of potency?
It's inconsequential; a big schlong is a hallmark
of masculinity.

The other day, I think I got caught staring at this guy's piece.
I realize it isn't the acceptable thing, especially in public,
but my social graces are nonexistent anyway.
Besides, how can you ignore the elephant in the room
when the trunk is nearly poking your eye out?

I was really rather fascinated and curious; I've not had
the opportunity I guess you'd say, to examine one that
closely in a non-sexual environment  before. As someone
who is of average size (or less?) I am curious about the
dynamics of it all. (Yes, this person has an especially
healthy ego, as it turns out.)

I think he caught me looking, and was uncomfortable,
because he moved to where I could no longer have direct
contact. However, at a later point, he made himself visible again,
and in fact seemed to be prominently displaying his package
in ways neither subtle or passive. He was getting off on tantalizing
me and provoking me.

See, even when they don't actually want to pursue anything, boys/men
with big cocks like to get the attentions of others with their
member. Whether it is eliciting desire, envy, or intimidation, there
is power in having impact on other people thus.

I should point out that I am not drawn to a big package out of
sexual designs (what we in the 'community' refer to as 'size queens.')
No, it is truly intellectual curiosity or simply aesthetic interests.
After all, after a certain point, it's rather a waste,  technically
speaking. I am not the sort who wants to wind up in the hospital
due to a romp, thank you.

I have heard of a handful (tee hee!) of men with cocks so huge
that they consider it a disadvantage, because finding sex partners
who can accommodate them is difficult and they are always being
looked at for something besides who they are. I feel that, true
as it may be, it is akin to 'having too much money.' Cry me a river.

A male organ's size is--and isn't--directly related to sex. Of course
people have made a worship out of the penis as if it were detachable
from a man. Personally, it's the whole package--not 'the' package--
that attracts me. But there's something about that sense of being
filled up or filed in that some people can't seem to do without.

Penis size is something that can certainly represent virility,
sexual prowess, desirability, and more. But once that is
established, even as an assumption, the penis value becomes a
marketable commodity like any other.

Men use it to intimidate competition and promote superiority,
like beasts in the jungle. Don't ever assume that a man is
unaware of how big his package is or how prominently
displayed it is at any given time. He is always conscious
that he/it is being observed, no matter how disaffected or
nonchalant he may pretend to be. Even prudes and religious
sorts pay heed, even if they remain silent or secure their interest
behind dismayed condemnation or foolish giggles.

We measure worth as we measure tool. The value of a  man
is societally-determined by the size of his dick. Not just in the
bedroom, but in the boardroom. In politics. In movies.
In the locker room. In families. In friendships.

Large-dicked men tend always to have profound confidence,
bordering on egomania; they are smug, self-centered, grandiose,
narcissistic,condescending, dismissive, arrogant, driven, expect
to be catered to, presumptuous, and aggressive.

Yes. Because their dicks are big. Believe it.

Penis size is sort of like financial status; you don't talk about it
in polite company. The people that say it 'doesn't mean anything'
are the people trying to project an air of indifference and convince
self, or those trying to promote false modesty.

But since no one talks in an open, intelligent, revealing way,
the myths and feelings of inadequacy are allowed to prosper.
Because the flip side of egomania is that men who don't have
big dicks are--by virtue of wording--"doing without." Comparisons
may in fact be odious, but they are a reality of the world where
we are bombarded with information about others and where
competition is fierce in all areas.

Men, in particular, are taught to gauge worth by virtue
of what they can do that the other guy can't. Similarly,
the idea that "There is no trophy for 2nd place" is a guy
idiom through-and-through. We are merciless with each
other, and ourselves.

Guys are so much more
sensitive to ideas of  being
insufficient than we are
'allowed' to reveal. Even
in this age of metrosexuality
and open men, there are
issues we fret over and
beat ourselves up for.


I don't think awareness and
conversation are going
to change anything. This is genetics, biology, social
imprinting, human envy, emotions, and more.

If you can't change a thing, you have to find a way to
accept it. I wish I had thought of the idea of selling
professional fake bulges; that market is booming. If
you can't have it, fake it. Guess I'll work on self-love...
and accepting that I won't be a world leader.

Daily Prescription (2/21)

Relax
Breathe
Shut up
Just do it
Let it go
Walk away
Be strong
Calm the $#@! down
Don't react
Don't assume
Ignore
Pretend
Smile
Stay present
Love

"Four-for-One"; Special....by THROB (1/22/10)

Alternating between cacophony and void,

No assurances bear fruit,

No promises sustain.

I can mask the horror, but not eliminate it.

What nothingness and brokenness lies before me

is all that I may hope to possess,

and there is nothing contained within

that I desire.

Desolate on every front, Abandoned by all (save lip service on occasion;)

None are concerned nor dedicated to my well being;

Even I--the responsible party--shirk the task, inner demons, battle, enemy.

We are all alone, and alone is something I no longer wish to be.

There are four of us here in the rubble,

and only one is a fighter; that's a '1-in-4' chance of

things going well when the shit hits the fan.

Minuscule pleasures are fleeting, ever lessening in intensity

and frequency (conversely pain is more abundant and profound.)

The body fails, the mind rebels, the heart betrays.....

Others might be surprised to know just how firm

the mask has held; how much lay beyond their purview;

I hide it well. People only see

the smallest sliver of the leviathan that looms within.

My enemy resides within.

The Old Grey Mare

I don't want to feel this way any more

I want an end to fear

and worry

and judgment

and physical pain

and lack of connection

and inadequacy

and criticism

and lack of acknowledgment

Always lacking

I am steeped in egotism

and worthlessness,

simultaneously

My world collapses

upon one morning of

absent phone messages

and lonely self-obsession

and empty e-mail accounts

I push away and fear connection

while damning the lack thereof

I desire intimacy yet follow

where no bread crumbs lead.

blessings..by THROB

Inherent in every sideways occurrence on this mud ball, 

there lies a blessing.

The lesson might simply be a hard-won fact of life, such as:

"You can't get something for nothing." or

"If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is." or

"There's a pattern here that I did not realize before."

But something can always come from any situation, 

no matter how bitter the taste

or how humiliating the loss of face.

To understand--as never before--how fully we must 

rely on no outside means

for sustenance...this is a blessing.

I had lost--excuse me...given away--my Mojo.

I had departed from my self confidence.

I put faith in intangibles and empty promises.

I was concerned about the welfare of others more than my own.

I became distracted by an ideal that is not realistic nor healthy.

I let someone else dictate what my course of action 'should' be.

The burden is, as always, squarely on my shoulders.

My ignorance and softness and naivete' gave way to powerlessness 

and despair.

Action and decisiveness was overcome by talking and sharing.

I imagined a concern for my welfare that never was hinted at; 

only a desire to regulate my thinking to match another's. 

(Brain-washing efforts are tricky; when the techniques and 

dogma varies, you forget that it's all the same under 

the hood.)

But I'm back in the saddle again; stronger than before.

Resolute. Fearless. Courageous. Indomitable.

Ready for mine; and Universe provide for any who stand 

in my way.

I needed to be squashed one final time for the message to be 

driven home.

Now there is no sadness that exists here; anger and numbness 

fills its place.

I've been blessed with a new perspective...a new lease on life.

Thanks for sharing.

Regrets--I've known a few...by THROB

I don't know
If there's blame.

I never knew
There were
2 different relationships
going on simultaneously.

I never knew You.

Sorry.