BLOGGER TEMPLATES - TWITTER BACKGROUNDS »

Monday, February 4, 2013

Pain and Mental Illness

Mentally_hs

Steven wrote a poem about pain to go with his insightful painting. I wanted to share my response.

I live with chronic low-grade pain (which I almost spelled "pane.") What color would it be? Muted red, perhaps. On a good day, light pink. Like my mental illness, I'm used to it. Unlike my mental illness, there is never a question that I would get rid of the pain if I were able.

The mental illness has affected the way I think, and I have had it all my life. I sometimes think if it were taken away, I might not know how to deal with the world as a "normal" person. 

Just like some people who have been blind all their lives have trouble navigating the world if by some miracle their sight is restored. I am blind to what it is to be "normal."

I also wanted to respond to Adam's very kind post in which he mentioned my struggles.

I was initially discouraged by the asshattery of other people. Then I overcame that. Now I'm discouraged by the publishing process. It is NOT FUN! It is expensive and time-consuming. It probably doesn't help that I have obsessive-compulsive disorder. I hate being my own publicist. If you can't afford to have a team helping you promote your work, and you don't enjoy doing this sort of shit by yourself, woe betide you.

So, yeah, I don't know if I'll ever publish another book. I'm going to get the one I'm (still) working on out there, but that might be it. I don't expect to get a huge readership for it, not nearly enough to cover the expenses of getting it published. 

And that's currently where I stand.

 

 

 

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Take a Break


Why so serious? Take a break from heavy concerns and watch these guys play games. This video is full of funny fails and stuff that would be horrible in real life made hilarious.

If you liked that first one, there's a lot more of the same from the boys. You may find yourself taking breaks all day to watch them crash things and crack beauties. Jokes that is!

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

What Does Rose Believe?



I call myself a "Mystic Agnostic." I do not resonate with any one particular religion, though I come closest with Buddhism, which really is not a religion but a philosophy. One can be an atheist and a Buddhist. One can be an agnostic Buddhist. One could even be an (open-minded) Christian Buddhist or a Pagan Buddhist. This is what I like about Buddhism.
I want room to explore the possibilities and study various theories. The monotheistic religions certainly don't offer this. Many atheists take a sneering attitude towards anything that is not completely cut and dry belief that there is no soul and dead is dead rather than perhaps transitioned into another form.
Even being a witch didn't work for me as far as participating in a group. I am still a solitary practitioner. The "real" old tyme religion (Wicca/Paganism) has been fairly well usurped by a lot of new-agey types who are as judgmental as the Christians that many of them have tried to distance themselves from. I tried involvement in a coven and various groups myself but found that there were way too many judgmental individuals who believed that their take on polytheism/mysticism was the only way to interpret things. If I wanted to feel that way, I would have stuck with the jolly old Roman Catholic Church! It was very disressing to discover this sad truth about the so-called "open minded" polytheists/mystics.
While I feel that there is no such thing as the supernatural, only natural phenomena that we as of yet have no explanation for, I need to have those possibilities to explore. I don't need to buy into anybody's dogma or interpretation of the Universe. That includes zealot monotheists, the acerbic brand of atheist, and the know it all variety of New Age mystic.
Buddhism gives me a philosophy to guide my life. The rest is open. I want to explore the possibilities of ghosts, gods and goddesses, angels and demons, and all else existence has to offer. I don't believe that existence ends with death, I believe that our energy transforms. Unfortunately it is very difficult to find others with whom to have open-minded discussions about these possibilities.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

 
I walk a lonely road
The only one I that have ever known
Don't know were it goes
But its home and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Blvd. of broken dreams
Were the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk alone

My shadows the only one that walks beside me
My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find
Till then I'll walk alone

I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line of the edge
And were I walk alone

Read between the lines of what's
Fucked up and every things all right
Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive
And I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone.

My shadows the only one that walks beside me
My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find
Till then I'll walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Blvd. of broken dreams
Were the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk alone

My shadows the only one that walks beside me
My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find
Till then I'll walk away!



Also, I am a devout Pastafarian

Thursday, July 28, 2011

The Top Side of Being a Bottom Feeder

Yes indeed, it is a bottom feeder

Having realized that I will never be famous, well-known, loved, achieve cult fame, be liked, or have an audience of more than...well...myself...is, what? Depressing? Discouraging? Disgusting? 
Well...yes, it is. But it is also very freeing.
I can write what the fuck I want. I don't have to care what group of "Trve Believers" of whatever variety I may piss off. I don't have any followers, hangers-on, or even people who give half a fart what I say. I can be who I am, not who you want me to be.
I'm sure that I'll love my forthcoming series of essays about the hypocrisy of dead celebrity worship. If my other personalities like them too, that's great. If not, I can go fuck myself for all I care.
Snarking my audience: just one of the many questionable services I offer.
Rose LeMort
Anti-Famous Hack Writer

Saturday, July 23, 2011

What Dreams May Come--or Will They?


This is a response to a post by Elizabeth about how women often end up putting our dreams on hold for the sake of society/family/convention.
I have huge conflicts about these two things. My work is not my passion, it's a job. I feel guilty about feeling this way, because it's a helper job. I'm a nurse aide who just got her nursing certification and is studying for the NCLEX exam. And while I certainly don't mind helping my son achieve his very important goals by taking him to the community college (I study while he's there) I sometimes feel like I'm always putting my dreams on hold. My dreams are all impractical things, like creative writing and acting. I've always been a creative person but with years of struggling with a mental illness that wasn't diagnosed until I was almost 40, I haven't made much headway and at this point the struggle to get my work recognized seems more terrifying than exhilarating.

Here is another fine post by Elizabeth about complimenting a woman without bringing her looks into it. Good stuff!

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Flap over Breastfeeding Baby Doll Ridiculous


Here's the thing: in the United States, we have this bizarre dichotomy that sexualizes the female breast on one hand and on the other hand decries the function it was created for as "dirty and disgusting." Children the world over play "house" and pretend to be mommies. In other countries, breastfeeding an infant is seen as normal and natural. There is nothing disgusting about nursing a baby and nothing disgusting about a little girl playing "mommy." Perhaps those who think it's disgusting need to check their reasoning. I think its far more disgusting for breasts to be seen as "fun bags," playthings for the titillation of males who have the minds of horny adolescents. I think it's disgusting that women feel the need to alter their natural breasts with outlandish silicone sacks to please this sort of man.
Breasts are first and foremost created to supply nourishment to infants. Humans are mammals. Do the people that find this doll disgusting also find it disgusting when cats nurse their kittens, dogs nurse their pups, or cows, goats, sheep or horses nurse their young?
I had baby dolls and pretended to be a mommy when I was little. I didn't have my baby until I was 25 and married. The reason I initially had sex at 16 had nothing whatsoever to do with playing at being a mommy at a young age and everything to do with wanting to feel loved. My reasoning was erroneous, but it had nothing whatsoever with having seen my mother nurse my younger brother, or playing at being a mommy myself.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Positively 4th Street



Positively 4th Street

You got a lotta nerve
To say you are my friend
When I was down
You just stood there grinning

You got a lotta nerve
To say you got a helping hand to lend
You just want to be on
The side that’s winning

You say I let you down
You know it’s not like that
If you’re so hurt
Why then don’t you show it

You say you lost your faith
But that’s not where it’s at
You had no faith to lose
And you know it

I know the reason
That you talk behind my back
I used to be among the crowd
You’re in with

Do you take me for such a fool
To think I’d make contact
With the one who tries to hide
What he don’t know to begin with

You see me on the street
You always act surprised
You say, “How are you?” “Good luck”
But you don’t mean it

When you know as well as me
You’d rather see me paralyzed
Why don’t you just come out once
And scream it

No, I do not feel that good
When I see the heartbreaks you embrace
If I was a master thief
Perhaps I’d rob them

And now I know you’re dissatisfied
With your position and your place
Don’t you understand
It’s not my problem

I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you

Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You’d know what a drag it is
To see you

Copyright © 1965 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music

I initially usurped Kai's blog to talk about certain backstabbing individuals who thought they put one over on me. I don't really have much of anything to add to that. I just want to dedicate this scathing little tune to them.

Peace,
Rose