...several months....
Picked up an overstuffed hold box at the comic shop and stopped in to goodwill to see if I could find anything fun.
Score! Got a shirt and a blazer.
Not really my style, but I look good in it at least, and if I'm going to be trying to get back out in the world again I need at least one traditional look that fits.
Then there was the drive back.
Oh yeah.
I was having such a good morning I forgot where I was for a little bit, but then right there on the sidewalk in front of the park.
"God Hates Fags."
"Fags are Violent."
"You'll burn in hell."
You know, the same shit that made me want to get the hell out of here to begin with.
Then, icing on the cake, the "Trans Ban" was signed into law.
I fucking hate it here.
"Why don't you do something to make it better Jack."
"What the hell do you think I've been doing?"
Like I said.
Most days I exist out of spite.
Because even on a good day, especially around here, I'm reminded how much of the world doesn't want me to exist.
Then there was the Marine.
When I first saw the footage...man.
White, hot, rage boiled up in me at the treatment.
These spinless fuckwits are so afraid of the truth that they couldn't even listen to it from a Marine in Dress Uniform. Exercising truly herculean levels of restraint as he refused to give ground while speaking his voice. I know for a fact that someone in that Uniform could have easily lashed out and severely injured, if not killed, those "officers" hauling him out.
And they broke his arm in the process?
What the actual fuck?
I try to find things to be positive about.
Try to keep my self moving and looking forward instead of behind.
"But Jack, you talk a lot about your past on this blog."
"Yeah, because it's what's in my head that I need to get out."
Good news is I made a little progress on that Equation I'm trying to crack.
"What it dark matter and dark energy?"
"What is gravity"
WoooOOooo
I can see it, I can visualize it, hell I can even explain it to a 5 year old. But unless the math holds and doesn't spin off into infinity then all I'm doing is explaining nonsense.
A good morning turned into a shit afternoon.
At least I got some cleaning done.
Probably get a bit more done later
Hey, and we're half way through Ramadan.
Yay!
"Wait, Jack, You practice Ramadan I thought you didn't believe in God."
Score! Got a shirt and a blazer.
Not really my style, but I look good in it at least, and if I'm going to be trying to get back out in the world again I need at least one traditional look that fits.
Then there was the drive back.
Oh yeah.
I was having such a good morning I forgot where I was for a little bit, but then right there on the sidewalk in front of the park.
"God Hates Fags."
"Fags are Violent."
"You'll burn in hell."
You know, the same shit that made me want to get the hell out of here to begin with.
Then, icing on the cake, the "Trans Ban" was signed into law.
I fucking hate it here.
"Why don't you do something to make it better Jack."
"What the hell do you think I've been doing?"
Like I said.
Most days I exist out of spite.
Because even on a good day, especially around here, I'm reminded how much of the world doesn't want me to exist.
Then there was the Marine.
When I first saw the footage...man.
White, hot, rage boiled up in me at the treatment.
These spinless fuckwits are so afraid of the truth that they couldn't even listen to it from a Marine in Dress Uniform. Exercising truly herculean levels of restraint as he refused to give ground while speaking his voice. I know for a fact that someone in that Uniform could have easily lashed out and severely injured, if not killed, those "officers" hauling him out.
And they broke his arm in the process?
What the actual fuck?
I try to find things to be positive about.
Try to keep my self moving and looking forward instead of behind.
"But Jack, you talk a lot about your past on this blog."
"Yeah, because it's what's in my head that I need to get out."
Good news is I made a little progress on that Equation I'm trying to crack.
"What it dark matter and dark energy?"
"What is gravity"
WoooOOooo
I can see it, I can visualize it, hell I can even explain it to a 5 year old. But unless the math holds and doesn't spin off into infinity then all I'm doing is explaining nonsense.
A good morning turned into a shit afternoon.
At least I got some cleaning done.
Probably get a bit more done later
Hey, and we're half way through Ramadan.
Yay!
"Wait, Jack, You practice Ramadan I thought you didn't believe in God."
Listen.
I give gifts on Christmas, hide prizes for easter, give up caffeine during Lent, and light candles for Hanukkah.
I do this to pay respect to those that hold those faiths to themselves.
So yes, I do practice Ramadan.
To understand and to respect.
I am careful about how long I fast and even though I have a banana or something similar to prevent me from going into a binge eating spiral when the sun sets I do it out of respect and understanding.
Here's what I've learned by practicing Ramadan over the last couple of decades.
Gratefulness for what I have.
That hunger isn't something that makes you focused the way grind culture would have you believe.
Hunter makes you weak, sloppy, and angry.
Ramadan taught me to live with the anger and control it instead of it controlling me.
To be cautious when my strength is low
To be kind to both myself and others when I'm feeling my worst.
No, I am not a follower of Islam.
But many people that I've worked alongside and that I listen to for perspective on things I have no experience with, do.
So for them I practice.
To understand.
To respect.
To honor those that have fallen in battles they didn't ask for.
So yeah.
I live in the land of bigots.
Got away for awhile, just to land in a similar place.
Maybe some day I'll find a place to call home.
If the fates smile upon me maybe I'll even find someone to share that home with.
But until then.
I'm here.
I exist.
I continue to live and try to make things better with my silly stories and life of experience I have a hard time believing sometimes.
And like that Marine.
I refuse to stay silent when I see something wrong.
I never served.
But unlike 45 it was because I wasn't allowed.
I refused to hide who I was.
But I found other ways to help.
With the airlines?
Reuniting families and helping soldiers get home whether it was in a seat or a box.
With the Libraries?
Making sure Soldiers loved ones had a safe place to grow and learn.
At the DnD table?
Helping them feel like heroes at home.
I wasn't allowed.
But it didn't stop me from helping.
So yeah.
I have a bit of skin in the game when I say that I want to make sure Veterans are actually taken care of when they get home.
Not just a "Thank you for your service here's 10% off of your burger."
And truly mean it when I say I don't want to see soldiers put in harms way for the sake of someone else's pride.
I'll still treasure the good mornings and good days.
And on the bad?
I'll exist out of spite.
So.
If you're out there questioning your service or struggling with what ever "coming home" means to you.
Know that there are people out there that will help.
Even if it's just sitting up bull shitting while running circles in the Tower.
Stay Safe
Stay Safe
I give gifts on Christmas, hide prizes for easter, give up caffeine during Lent, and light candles for Hanukkah.
I do this to pay respect to those that hold those faiths to themselves.
So yes, I do practice Ramadan.
To understand and to respect.
I am careful about how long I fast and even though I have a banana or something similar to prevent me from going into a binge eating spiral when the sun sets I do it out of respect and understanding.
Here's what I've learned by practicing Ramadan over the last couple of decades.
Gratefulness for what I have.
That hunger isn't something that makes you focused the way grind culture would have you believe.
Hunter makes you weak, sloppy, and angry.
Ramadan taught me to live with the anger and control it instead of it controlling me.
To be cautious when my strength is low
To be kind to both myself and others when I'm feeling my worst.
No, I am not a follower of Islam.
But many people that I've worked alongside and that I listen to for perspective on things I have no experience with, do.
So for them I practice.
To understand.
To respect.
To honor those that have fallen in battles they didn't ask for.
So yeah.
I live in the land of bigots.
Got away for awhile, just to land in a similar place.
Maybe some day I'll find a place to call home.
If the fates smile upon me maybe I'll even find someone to share that home with.
But until then.
I'm here.
I exist.
I continue to live and try to make things better with my silly stories and life of experience I have a hard time believing sometimes.
And like that Marine.
I refuse to stay silent when I see something wrong.
I never served.
But unlike 45 it was because I wasn't allowed.
I refused to hide who I was.
But I found other ways to help.
With the airlines?
Reuniting families and helping soldiers get home whether it was in a seat or a box.
With the Libraries?
Making sure Soldiers loved ones had a safe place to grow and learn.
At the DnD table?
Helping them feel like heroes at home.
I wasn't allowed.
But it didn't stop me from helping.
So yeah.
I have a bit of skin in the game when I say that I want to make sure Veterans are actually taken care of when they get home.
Not just a "Thank you for your service here's 10% off of your burger."
And truly mean it when I say I don't want to see soldiers put in harms way for the sake of someone else's pride.
I'll still treasure the good mornings and good days.
And on the bad?
I'll exist out of spite.
So.
If you're out there questioning your service or struggling with what ever "coming home" means to you.
Know that there are people out there that will help.
Even if it's just sitting up bull shitting while running circles in the Tower.
Stay Safe
Stay Safe
