Welcome back to my blog 🥳
Guys, I'm currently in a little fix, which is why I havern't written much lately. But I try to get back on track and be prolific. If there is a noteworthy demand, I'll record an audio version of my first blogpost collection (It's not supposed to hurt)
[ILink to audio version will be put here--if demanded frequently]
But whatever I'll create these days, here is what I'd like to type down: I found out that none of you guys would ever tell me that my writings sometimes suck. I have no idea why you think that honestly telling me such things would be bad....
I also don't blame my bestie for being not precise or overly caerful when doing the peer review for me. He as a teacher who usually corrects writings of fourteen-year-olds. So, his regularly readings might affect his own use of English in the long run; which is why he doesn't see most of my hardly ever reviewed content. Nevertheless, I would not have been mad at you guys if you had told me 😅.
I counted an estimated 20 Germanisms, dozens of wrong prepositions, spelling errors and one word that doesn't even exist in the English language... all that in the first post I reviewed myself. Maybe I should not have published that shit in my cannabis-influenced midlife crisis😆. Nonetheless, I'm just hoping the other seven posts are not that infested with "Austrish" expressions. For future events, I simply shouldn't tell anyone that this is the blog of an alleged English translator😜
Also, I need to thank all of you for forwarding the link of the penultimate post of the "It's not supposed to hurt"-series to other people...
Today's post is kinda the beginning of a new blogging season. What I'll do and haven't done in the first season is put two mindsets in the mix that I'd love to keep in my mental emergency kit. One is against pressure during psychotic episodes, the other is so that I won't kiss the front of a driving train; no joke, by the way; I'm far from fine these days. I added an iambic poem to this first post; and I still don't kmow it by heart yet. There'll be an audio version of this poem. The link will be put below the poem, in case you want to hear it with an emotional component in addition.
Important information in advance:
If you want to serve these words below to definitely vulnerable folks who may need it, make sure you rearrange the verses 61, 62 and 63 as put here:
61: There is our god/There are our gods; and there is hope
62: And all your wounds might mend
63: And.. instead of But
64: Your or My instead of the original article (which [I think] is The);
The lines of the original version are definitely pernicious for many, which is why you have to be careful when sharing this prayer. I'll nonetheless never sue you for sharing particularly this poem. But I assume sticky, informed others will bring about troubles and might even drag you into a hell comparable to mine if you make money with it or if you put something in the mix that changes its positive and maybe even lifesaving effect. That, by the way, is the only purpose these lines have. I'm the only one who knows that; because I wrote it myself.
That clarified, let us all creep down to the floor in modest adoration to the empirical sciences, that up to this day still can't tell us what to do, only what we can, and maybe what we want.* Let us all pray to our certainly creator-less universe while we still question everything we say:
Sacra convictio hominis sui ipsius cogitantis
I am convinced
that each and every child born into this world is in its very nature good, innocent and pure
but through negative imprint of all sorts gets bullshit shat into its skull
I want to believe from the bottom of my once tender, now sick and darkened heart
that once bullshit got into our skulls
there is a way to get it out of there again
and from what is accessible to the human mind
I think that once we got it out of there
there is no point in shittin' in there again
Amen
That little prayer is not half as funny as the first person I showed it thought it would be. If there is no conviction that I can keep, the most dominant today is that my own life could have evolved better and faster if people – good or bad, if we ever knew the difference – hadn't stuck to bullshitting kids and then continued bullshitting adults.
Let's start soft:
When I try to convince people of all ages as an animal rights activist today about the advantages of a vegan lifestyle I usually don't reach new fellows easily. I'm still struggling staying polite and reserved every time guys step in front of me and just then feel the urge to tell me that they like the taste of meat. My so far least frustrating response to that helpless utterance is "Yah, everyone says that. Why is it important when YOU say it?" But I can't bring that one any longer. It's an unfair thing to say to everyone who doesn't have much self-confidence or wasn't in for a serious but mud-infested debate. Making others shut up with logic, provocation or doubt doesn't help any suffering pig in the slaughter houses; I'd say such things only for myself; only to feel righteous and untouchable in the moment without ever making a difference.
However, I myself do like the taste of meat. If meat wasn't murder to me, it would be bacon every day. Changing your diet, managing a vegan diet in the long run helps a lot if you want less animals to suffer, if you want less animals to die.
You'd stick to your vegan diet, because it can be done easily without having yourself suffer instead of other animals, without yourself living unhealthy, but with yourself feeling better and healthier. On top of that, you even can't frustrate the egomaniac in you; you could act altruistically unknowingly.
But no one who isn't already just as crazy vegan as I am, would get all that. If I ever thought, people come to the same conclusions as I do, when they get the same spoon feeding, I would no longer think that. Throw following irrevocably accessible thoughts at a convinced omnivore to realize that facts don't work:
- I also do like the taste of meat.
- I don't need meat to be healthy or to become or stay strong.
- We wouldn't have problems with nutrition if we didn't eat meat, dairy or eggs.
- There are a thousand other things just as available as meat that taste great, are cheap, are healthier than every kind of meat, dairy product or egg.
- If you ate two halves of chicken last week and haven't eaten a bite of chicken this week, one chicken less got killed this week and you'd safe 52 each week if you figured that out solely for one year.
- The libido recuperates if you stick to healthy vegan choices.
- Cholesterol is a problem of the past.
- Most of the animal products you habitually use are not healthy options and can easily be replaced with healthier products.
- You also ignore and deny human feelings when you turn a blind eye to those who "produce meat" for you.
- Never in my life have I ever thought "Oh my goodness, this steak
was worth the kill. Eating meat is an irreplaceable source for my inner
peace. It's essential soul food that tells me that life is good; I
couldn't live without it. My own existence is in danger if I don't have
schnitzel every week. That is what I fear; I'm dead-serious. "
After wasting your energy by carefully putting such arguments on the table, you'd then release your provoked listener with the emancipating words: "This is all that I can tell you. Now decide for yourself". Whoever tried to listen won't give a goddamn fuck.
If you really want such arguments count, if you ever want people to give up unrefelected traditions, you'd sooner or later try to inculcate your lies to nullify the established ones that got stuck. But Sancho Pansa shot Rosinante last time I desperately fought dragons; and if I don't want another horse get killed, I have to take a windmill for what it is. And that means: Don't approach an established collective conservatism with a far-fetched individual liberalism. If people kept telling each other that there is a bearded man in the sky for five thousand years, you'd have a hard time telling them three thousand years later that sins are forgiven when you eat that old fag's lamb. Six hundred years later many would be fairly suspicious about everything alleged in the past, still thinking it was wise to let a cow bleed out cuz it might keep a devout man from meeting a supernatural goat who lives below the earth's surface.
We are not much smarter fourteen hundred years later. Most people don't make a fuss of that mindblowing past and sanguinically share much more than fantasy stories with an open-hearted world, not knowing that those words will be burned beyond recognition by the next stupid megacrowd that will kill and torture to make their way of life count exclusively. That's a given if we don't learn from history.
Since I'm with vegan activists, I try not to turn away from the hatred and ignorance animals have to endure each day. We observe the killing and the torture daily, no matter whom or what we're looking at; and we tell those psychopaths surrounding us that we accept their attitudes, their opinions, their murders. Fortunately, our vegan serenity automatically kicks in before we exhaust our own patience with the world. Fortunately, exclusive collectivisms always bring about advantages for those included. As a result, most Austrian specicists are extremely friendly and kind; they pet us like puppies with their own kindness, so much they would have left.
I would love to exclude myself from society for this chapter. I'm not good being alone until it's done, but why would I count votes when precisely that is s what's making freaks like me shut up helplessly. That, however, isn't solely me being a vegan. No. I just felt like expressing my contempt. I just picked political content twelve-years-old kids understand, hoping to make my point clear.
I get very little of how others think cuz days are gone when people talk thoughtfully to me. Feeling lost and helpless, not feeling understood, not finding answers to questions I keep asking only myself, envisaging and anticipating true friendship and love without any sign of plausibility...
it's just fucking dark in here; and music helps best to enlighten the mood. I usually have my iphone and earpods fully charged cuz great songs sooth most; and of course, my own songs would never do the trick. But if you'd love to tell yourself something prayer-like that you could inhale by heart in a dark hour, here's what I thought might work when everything appears lost (even if you're always better off calling a friend or loved one instead:). You'd have to repeat it some day when you're good so you'll know it by heart once you're fucked. Note the last line first, whatever else you wanted to do next.
Di sisco in dubiosum
You're waiting for the morning train,
don‘t really want to move
That life was more than mental pain
You cannot fully prove
Cuz loneliness is drowning all
the thoughts that make you smile
and why you shouldn't end it all
You're asking for a while
Cuz every time you see the range
of life you realize,
when there is nothing you can change,
it all ends in despise.
Then they would tell that pain was just
a source to understand
You know that's shit--no need to trust;
just face the world at hand.
The suff'ring [then] you're going through
is useless and absurd,
the shit they preach not turning true
just cuz that's all you've heard
So, life's like hell, you might conclude
you better hit that train
You're helpless, dumb, practically nude
You wish to end the pain
But here is what you didn't know
You're dead and here's the end.
All over , done, before you thought
You don't need to pretend
And when you say "That's what I thought"
but haven't thought at all.
Then this is where you end up caught:
You scream before you fall.
If ever anything was clear
it's that you're feeling lost
and feelings might just disappear
they don't come with a cost.
So, here's the way, here's where you go
Here's what life is/was about:
What's going on no one would know,
you'd want to find that out
So, quick, give in
but do not mourn for things you haven't done
Count thousand girls/friends you haven't met
when all you want is one
You had a plan before you cried
Right now you shouldn't care
Of thousand things you've never tried
Pick one you now would dare
Cuz once you thought, you can't do that
Well, now you really can
Give it a try, without regret
And try it once again.
The jump's the end, we got that far
Now have a decent walk
Make sure you get to role a splith
and find a girl/mate/pal/friend to talk
Just never pray these lines again
still thinking we were smart
We simply fucked ourselves this time
said [that] life was never hard.
Still, there's no god, there is no hope
and you will not ascend
But everything can happen
if this is not the end.
Okay, I owe the following lines those of you who reacted panickly lately. For those of you who forgot what I'm like without pharmaceuticals: crying is one of the good signs; the loud voice stays, running up and down stays, yes I talk now, but you'll get used to it.
Other than that, I wanted to finish the prayer above to make you feel okay. I'm safe and I'm not bored. I just took my time with something that is hard to digest; I just hope I didn't shy away anyone of you in the meantime. Don't ask me where the hell my newly discovered will to live coomes from. After crying for a week, I woke up yesterday telling myself: "Bro, you're old as fuck, but you can still manage to do each and every thing you had planned for your life; all within reach; nothing lost. You're getting there..."
...and now I feel stupid thinking I was ever lost. This anti-suicide poem kept me occupied for months since I thought I'd sooner or later actually need those words... usually when I get to the point when I stop talking to people and then realize when suiciadal ideas specify. I first thought that I'd not do that, but in the aftermath I felt surprised as usual what deep thoughts can trick me in a moment one day that appear stupid, joke-like andridiulous in a future moment the other day.. Which is why I want to tell that I'm currently very happy with my life, always have been and always will be. I'm nevertheless, so much more alone than anyone of you and I don't expect you to understand that this is all you need to know. I really wouldn't tell you if I ever killed myself but it would be okay if I did; and that is not a harsh or unbelievable thing to write. I don't see it coming soon; right now I'd be stupid to put it in perspective; but I've been there, knowing that a mix of courage, desperation, and the accompanied, pressing thought of paranoia (that easily put my thoughts next to myself) make me do things I can't necessarily control; and then it's good to know that it affects no fucking one else but myself. Before all that might ever happen, chances are high, I first get inadvertently shot molesting widows in the park. Then I died doing what I loved or doing whom I thought would have liked it. In other words, don't forget that I'm nuts all the time.
Remarks to "Di sisco in dubiosum"
I wouldn't recommend praying this poem word by word. I'd rather you found your own words that keep you from doing stupid things. The prayer, when understood emotionally, shall function as a reset button,... a turning point before you start from scratch. First, you end your old life, then you accept that you're already dead; and then you check the sources you have for your new life.
Considering how easy it was today adding the rest of the lines, I want to conclude that the worst is over when in fact I have no idea what my metabolically fucked-up body will let me go through next month. It has been, I dunno, seven or eight months since I had to stop taking medication. Of course, the bastard thoughts reappear. Of course, my thoughts are no longer orderly explained. Of course, I'm back stammering, Of course, I'm back running around frantically, running away from friends who trigger me mentally. But that's okay. It's all okay. You wouldn't understand if I didn't tell you, but I'm feeling healthier with every day. I remember regularly feeling subdued and shut-off the last ten years, when I took my daily medication. But I wouldn't have noticed the difference between now and then if the pills hadn't brought about the crippling side effects that made me stop swalowong them.
I know that people now turn even more away when they can't cope with me. I would nonetheless no longer be open for therapy that implies pharmaceuticals--not because it was bad categorically; because in retrospective it pretty much felt like waking up from a coma and getting more and more of my life back with every day abscent of pills. The illness is now evident and visible, never dangerous for others.
About chapter 2
I thought a lot about what I could write this season, thinking that girl stories are an easy thing for me but an unpleasant thing for women who cherish their privacy. Friends who might have liked a decent reading last season should not have felt shot at when they read with whom I may have been in cahoots with fifteen years ago. But they certainly felt that way without ever telling me. I definitely missed feedback and blame my past topic choice. But I really wanted to get that old girl stuff off my chest and am happy having taught myself how to deal with sometimes critical content. But privacy won't be an issue in chapter 2 either.
There are too many things I can't articulate about the prophet Muhammed since I don't intend to mince my words with fear of people who could get my words wrong. I'll rest in the green with discussions about stereotypes and don't dig deep when I mention the Quran or Islam. Otherwise I'd design a bloodbath of allegations. Instead, I'll tell pathetic Jesus Christ jokes, ridicule Howard LaVeys Satanic Bible from the perspective of an animal rights activist, and vividly explain why Buddhism is not a mere world view but a religion that lazily uses marketing to attract hippies. But the Buddhists will get away easily simply because Pamela Anderson is an outstanding Buddhist vegan I'd love to meet one day.
I deem it useful to share a few thougths and express a few ideas about a topic that used to consume me. However, I'm pretty much done with religion, gave it far too much importance in the past, far too much value to estimate friends who couldn't care less, and I fooled myself for ages thinking I could ever fall for religious doctrine. But just like I was obsessed with the girls I wrote about in chapter one, I was obsessed with religion for quite some time after ending with my metal band. I assume, chapter two will tell you about my brainwashed youth in a conservative and seemingly fascist Roman Catholic "family", a long-year interest phase marked by writings of Judaism, the Quran, and stories of Siddharta.
As a trustworthy scientist I would have to reflect belief, faith and religion from an uncompromisingly agnostic angle due to the fact that there is no scientific "evidence" for or against the existence of supernatural beings.
I'm outlining my case as a liberal, an atheist and an animal rights activist. I want this chapter to be good but barely expect readers this time. For a reason: The topic is always controversial, which is precisely why I picked it, knowing that I'd write carefully informed about content that far too many feel afraid to write about. No idea however, who--except me--will want to read that...
Allright.
love you guys.
Michael 🐢
* Objektität sozialwissenschaftlicher und sozialpolitischer Erkenntnis – Max Weber
* eventuell auch erwähnt in der Kritik der praktischen Vernunft – Immanuel Kant (Quelle: ChatGPT)
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