The Pretenders - My City Was Gone

I have always appreciated advice from certain people. Other people however freely give advice, but it all sounds like it comes from the same page of the same book. I suppose it's normal for we human being's to have a few solid foundations from which we gain traction in this life. For some, it's the worship of God in whatever religion. I mean, history shows that we human beings kill one another over religion. It affects global politics. Other people find solace in ways other than worshiping a higher being. No matter who or what we use as our foundations for this life, we must always remember that no two people can possibly see this world in the same way(s). This cannot be done. This is why it is important to have a better understanding of where the person is coming from as far as the advice one may choose to receive. Of course, putting any advice into play without some kind of knowledge about who and where they get their thoughts is not a good idea. Even a trusted friend and ally can see the point on much different terms which flags any advice in regard to said point. I am always a bit curious about folks who go straight to their religion as a source and foundation for any advice they might give.

I can spot a depressed person from quite a distance. They come in all shapes and sizes and they come in all colors and classes. For example, depression can be brought on through obsession. Not too long ago, a family man from the midwest came out to Vegas. He gambled for a few days and then went back to his hotel and blew his brains all over the wall of his room. People around here say he pissed away his money and then lost it. I mean, nobody knows a thing about this guy and the majority idea is just that, he lost control and then lost it. Well I think there is more to it than that. I think he had a plan like a friend of mine did back in 92. For some people, depression finally reaches that point of no return. It's that point where thoughts are over and words mean nothing. For some people, the decision is made and the plan is carried out. My friend in 92 did something unusual for a guy however. Most guys just shot themselves in the head. My friend took pills and drank whiskey. I knew he lost all the money his father left him because of his step father and mother. He was used to buying his friends. He never had to buy me. I wish I would have seen it coming. Looking back, I don't think there is much I could have done. It's no big sign of success to notice a depressed person. I just see people that's all. I see in others what exists in myself. I fight every day not to exit this life. I need a reason not to go through with it. I suspect over time it will get increasingly difficult for me.

It's a funny thing about this life. You can have an education and you can have the ability, but if the chance does not present itself or if that chance is not forced upon somebody through incessant phone calls and all out social war, opportunity to thrive within a certain capacity never comes to the surface. It can therefor be said that the world loses... in a way. For example, I have two master's degrees and can't find a job in my area that pays more than a delivery driver. I could work for a casino, but I have done that before and want to try something else. I have nobody to call or lean on for work. I have no friends to kick open doors for me. I only have my word and my education. In the world today, I'm not so sure that I have enough. I like to play straight pool with no gimmicks. I like to get to the point and solve the issue either incrementally over time, right away, or whatever works best for all concerned. As long as progress is being made and not too much compromise is part of the agenda, I am all in. My grandmother told me once that politics is in everything. I believe her words to be true. But politics can be too much of a burden to bear. Too much of oneself is often given away. The result may be more of this or that. But what becomes of you as a result of this or that means priorities are no longer the same. The politics changes and then the goals change. This life, it is a funny thing.

Last night I was reminded of the darkness that comes with heroin. There was a girl so strung out that she had no control of her arms and hands. Her face was twitching and she was as pale as any human can be. I didn't know her, but I know her friend who was playing it down. I think my friend was high on the shit as she was also pale and rather clammy looking. I've seen this crap before. I've seen what women and men will do for a shot of that shit. These people will do whatever it takes to get high. Wherever there is someone strung out, surely there is a bag somewhere nearby. There seems to be a rise in this heroin thing happening. Not only are pain killers becoming a major issue (has been), but there is also a heroin increase happening. I know for a fact that this is not just a poor issue. Heroin like alcohol seems to be readily available on every street. In a town like the one I'm in, something like heroin is just par for the course. But there is something different about it when you see it right in front of your face. You get to see first hand the confusion and the sadness that comes with it. It steals their soul. You cannot dance with the demon and the party always comes to a halt.

I ind mysel in constant worry mode. It seems I have always been comortable in worry mode. I think I got it rom my mother. Growing up, I watched her worry about stu she couldn't possibly have control over. I saw her make a big deal out o things that were very minor. I suppose having 4 kids and a ull time job with an absentee husband who worked all the time was tough on her. I just don't think they make people like my mother anymore. I mean, the woman still has balls and she is battling dementia. I am constantly reminding her o the lessons she taught me... especially the one about stealing. When I was 6, I stole a rock rom dean's rock shop. I orgot about it and let it in my jeans. When mom ound it, she knew I had no money or it. I received a chewing out, a lecture, and a beating beore she drove me back to the rock shop to return the item. Little did I know she called Dean to let him kno what happened. It was a set up. I went inside and apologized to Dean in ront o my mother and handed the rock back to him. That was 1974 and I have stolen nothing since that time. I've been stolen rom, but I never steal. You see, back in the day, when a kid messed up he usually got his ass beat. It was a kind o deterrent. I never liked getting beat, so I always listened to the words and elt the pain so as to NOT experience that shit again. It has to be done early in lie I think. Being the last child, I think my mother knew that by the time I was o age. 

Out here in Vegas, I get to see people doing strange things. Just the other night I saw a guy in the middle o a highway chewing out every passing car. One night I witnessed a wedding reception where the bride ell three lights. Her new husband came down and waited or the ambulance. Once it came, he went back inside the casino. I was at the library one day and a young guy walks in wearing a leotard with dixie cups as breasts. He also had Pippy Longstocking hair. At any given moment one can see just about everything out here. This is a great place i you are looking to cut back on your inances. I'e seen people take themselves all the way to the edge and then go over. Some o them have allen beore and know the way back. Others have no idea what it's like to have nothing. To these olks, aving nothing is a measure o ailure. But as with everything in lie, one persons ailures could very well mean the liberation o another. It is the liberation rom "things" that should be priority number one in many peoples lives because things can be no real and true measure o success. How could they be?