Seattle Is Alright

New Junk's Trunk is up, you goofy homos!

Laptop crash and tech issues caused the sound of my voice to be quite shitty but besides that, my favourite playlist so far, featuring less known, and always good bands from the golden grunge era. Miss this one and you can kill yourself, for all i care.


http://podOmatic.com/r/UhyPc

Music For Your Pockets: Burn River Burn

Following the cue of the upcming episode of my podcast, Junk's Trunk, i'm gonna try and plug a San Francisco nad that plays music that could easily fit in the beautiful shows of old school Grunge (which, if it isnt clear, was one of my favourite scenes. and if you use the world metal, ill find you and club you on the head).. And mostly is a band that gets no coverage in the main radio circuit.

The guys have just put out a brilliant debut album, which you can buy on their site or on the always handy Cdbaby.

The best way to give you a hint of what they sound would be to name early Soundgarden. And for people who dont follow me or are a bit retarded, that means basically rock that has one foot in the Seventies but also a slightly crunchier and heavier edge and a badass singer with a masculine voice but also a great range.

As soon as you start playing the record, if you're into rock, even a bit, you'll love this one. The opening riff tells you all you need to know: classic, tight, pounding and beefy but not derivatiove and trite (i'm talking to you Creed). Then the melodies completely win you over. Burn River Burn's singer has a rougher Cornell vibe (which means indirectly Ozzy and Robert Plant) and can rip out holes in the walls when he has to rock, but can also croon menacingly in the slower bits.

And the bluesy touches? there's solos, moddy times, harp pieces. It's amazing. Trust me.

http://burnriverburn.com

The Uncasters Family!

I have friends, some of them i dropped during my pilgrimage towards i dont know really what, others i kept close. Its still very though to me, the way i am today, to trust people and love them. I can have acquaintances, people i hang with or i invite happily in my house, but i dont really love most of them. My heart is big and full of stuff by i also am deadly afraid of hurt, since the slightest push could make me drop into a pit of blackness in a blink. Thats also why i burn bridges so fast and sometime push away peoiple out of some weird neurosis. Thats why sometimes, i feel more comfortable shutting off, hiding behind a wall of lies and maks. Because it hurts so bad when things fail that i have become cowardly scared of reching out.

Still, in the latest year or so, a group of people entered my life and seriously made it better. They live across an ocean and yet i converse with them all day, thanks to the internet. And for many empty headed cunts, that means its not a "real" friendship. But i would give my heart and soul for every single one of them, i think about them and how can i help them when they're down, i get worried and want to be as much as a part of their lives as i can. And if that sounds weird, or inexplicable, i could really care less.

Three of them are called Daniel, Victoria and Rhgian. I consider them a slice of my heart. I honestly, deeply love them and if i could jump into a volcano for them i would. Also they have TWO great podcasts that they share with the world and you should check out if you havent, yet.

Uncast is preciously funny. The chemistry between the three is funny. Victoria has the quick wit and the comedy mind of a genius, Rhian is naturally charismatic and has a great sense of funny timing, and Daniel is possibly the most likeable man you will hear or meet in the universe. Any episode i hear from them is a gem that drops in my iPod and litterally makes my day, turning it upside down with laugh and quotable bits.

And Vivi (as i call Victoria) and Rhian drop even more sexiness, good ideas and laughter on Tiltedhalocast.

Honestly, i know this whole thing sounds like me plugging friends, and it is, somehow. But in this case the friends are brilliant. And they made my life worth living with a smile on my face. They gavce me so much that all i can do is tell whoever's reading this how great they are and how you need them in your ears and heart.

"Insert awesome theme music here..."

http://www.uncast.net

http://www.tiltedhalocast.net

Turn This Damn Thing Off!

I have a problem, minions.

I am proud of my mind. It never disappointed me, even when it broke down to a million anrchist little pieces. It was still something that i was in love with. It was the main key for the greatness of my heart. My heart worked fine but it got the power of soaring from my brain. From its ability top be selfless, romantic, kinky, creative, out of control, capable of wild emotion and at the same time devastating self awareness. The lows were destructive but the highs were pure bliss.

But lately all i get from it is a jaded, disenchanted series of reflections on how i am not the way i used to be, or the things i havent done, or the memories that i miss. I hate memories. For many, the great times of the past are something great, to0 me they're a swamp that i get stuck in. I remember the beautiful, pure sweetness of things i lived and all i can think of is how i let those moments slip. How i wasnt able to enjoy them as much as i should have. And how now those moments are lacking, or simply how im so numbed by thinking about the future or what isnt there, that i am in a costant state of fear and disappointment.

And if this sounds too deep for you, think about it. When was the last time, you really went through a moment with your head turned off, and your heart just going at 300mph, without pausing even for a second to think "what should i do or what should i say".

People think. Always. They think while loving. They think while partying. Lately they think while having SEX! Which is so insane to me. I cant do that yet and i might in the future if i keep on this path. The only moment where all of your body should be completely gone inside a vortex of feelings and fun. And people drag their insecurities into it.

And yet its eems unavoidable. I obsess on details, lately. This fucking brain is always on. My job isnt satisfying me, my love life is empty and heartless, i left behind many good friends on a path of change that hasnt really changed anything. I have memories that haunt me, on good time spent with groups of people i used to love and now i cant go back cause my head has made me act like such an asshole (and it probably will again) that i burnt all bridges. And if there was a reason for that, i doubt it everytime.

My head tells me that im out of shape, lonely, overowrried. That i eat badly, smoke and take too many meds and i'm unhealthy in a horrible way.

I was listenbing to a song by a band i really dont like. But that song triggered a memory. I was a few years younger. I was trying to win back this girl's heart. So i took her on a trip around Italy, on my car. Us and a backpack. One night i brought her to an old beautiful castle, on the hills of Trentino. We drank a local wine, with a full moon, cuddled up on a wall, while this weird band played on. That memory breaks my heart. I dont recall the last tiem i felt that way.

But yet, probably, i was overhtinking thinks then too. Fuck.

Somebody hit me on the head...

A Glimmer Of Hope

As much as i feel involved in what i'm about to discuss, i will try to avoid a sugary or excessively weepy tone, because the main point of this post isnt feelings or sentimentalism, but hope.

My friend Rhian, about whom i talked a lot in the past, is a gracious lady. If you knew her or ever talked to her, she's easy to like and to feel involved with. Rhian has a sparkly personality, is humorous, lively and witty. She had life experinces, seen about everything, knows a lot about whats good and what's bad in life. She cracks jokes, constantly, even during the bad times. Hardly gets angry even in the face of defeat and hatred from the cosmos.

Lately things have been hard for her. Diagnosed with lupus and a few other majorly ball busting conditions, she has to fight the days as they come as a constant war against all odds. Things that are ordinary to people are big thingfs for her, like a walk to get groceries or a trip. She is frail and in contstant pain but hardly complains about it or begs for attention. She has plenty of friends and loved ones that, lately, have started to refer to themselves as the "Rhi-army".

Also, she is a dancer. And a great one too. She loves music and she loves dance. Its in her blood and soul and its a fundamental part of what she is. The disease took that away from her. But in the heart she still dances.

She doesnt loose hope.

And that hope is becoming much more now. The Mayo Clinic, in Scottsdale Arizona might accept hger and help her with special treatment. Help her survive this and actually get better.

Yet she needs a hand. Fits, awareness and support.

Read her stories on her blog : http://www.rhiloaded.com

Drop her a line, read what she has to say. Listen to her voice on http://www.uncast.net or http://www.tiltedhalocast.com

And after that join us in helping her and spreading the word. I promise you, its a good cause. http://www.giveforward.com/jointherhiarmy

New Junk's Trunk is up. So Gay it embarasses blowjobs.

After much ado about nothing, i finally managed to place the new episode of my beloved (by me) podcast up.

A quintessentially sunday pranicng playlist with lots of glamorous rocking songs and a couple of shiny newbies!!!

If you dont get it, you hate freedom!

http://podOmatic.com/r/pCZMtoQ

A Dysfunction Guide From a Dysfunctional

Therapists cost a shitton of money. Also, they dont necessarily work all the time. It is worth trying one, if he/she's reccomended from someone you trust AND if after an early talk you feel at ease. Try, as a suggestion from a personal experience, to avoid meds at all cost, whether they're light or strong, as they will enclose you into a vicious cycle you dont want. Yes, they will make your mood more tolerable, eventually, but they will also cause addiction and a series of side effects that you do not want to deal with. Still, if any sign of mental distress starts to become troubling, consider the option of seeking help. Never try to face it alone and NEVER keep it to yourself. Your loved ones need to know, no matter what. To you, some things might be part of life or your personality or simply "not a big deal" but the minds gives in to illness in a much subtler way than a lot of other organs and it turns small and relatively easy to deal with issues into giant monsters that WILL destroy you, in the end.

I thought of a series of signs that i noticed in myself and other people who have dealt with mental issues, that were at first ignored or belittled as "quirks".

- Paranoia

This one doesnt necessarily start right away as a series of obsessions on hidden bugs or voices. It starts small, with mundane aspects that at times might as well be true. All you need is be a bit distressed, maybe at a time of high presssure and suddenly what might have been a state of High awareness will become trouble. You might be talking on the phone on your balcony and suddenly you'll think "my neighbours are listening to what i say, i shall be quieter". That thought is common sense, but if it grows, it might turn into an obsession. You might start thinking everyone is listening to you all the time. It is not as absurd as it sounds. My mother had a similar breakdown. At first it was dealing with the daily gossiping and backstabbing of small town people, but with dark times and tension, it became some sort of hole filling we shalll not speak cause theyre listening. Its a very thin line between paying attention to detail and being convinced that everything and everyone is focused on you.

- OCD Behaviour

It is much more common than one thinks. A quirk, or simply a personal ritual can easily become something your head clings on to, in times of utter despair. You might have patterns that you follow out of habit, or simply because they comfort you, as most patterns do. But when the brain ceases to produce what it has to or simply, you go through a time of trouble that uses up all your balance and leaves you in need for something that reassures you and eases the fear and the discomfort, routine might become a need. You started liking to do a series of actions at the same hour, in the same place but suddenly if you miss said rituals and routines, you feeel panicky and terrified and any change might throw you into crysis. That isnt necessarily a tragedy, but it might throw you into an ivnisible cage. And in worse situations, you find yourself obsessing on rituals that dont make sense, sometimes absolutely random, sometimes even religious or spiritual (those things are powerful on weathered brains). The rituals give you a sense of security or the hope that if you follow them, things will work out. A weakened head holds to that.

- Eating Disorders

It also has to do with the head, deeply and with the need for control. Not all of those are tied with depression, sometimes a person is driven towards anorexia nor bulymia to obtain an image. But body issues are an outcome of despair. And they come at you from unsuspected places. When i was at the peak of my self destruction, my manic impulse also started pushing me into an obsession towards being "thin" and looking perfect. I am not gonna balme anyone, but my family always were very unsympathetic towards weight issues. My mother is obese now but still retains an absolute spite towards people who "do not look perfect" and is very harsh on "fatness" (which is often NOT real fatness). Besides my own personal experience (which is really all im basing this piece on), being surrounded by people who refuse to help you with self esteem because its in their nature to kick others down, drives you towards an obsession with how you look. And that means that you easily quit what is easier to quit : eating.

- Sucidal Thoughts

A lot of people have those but the real moment when they become demons, isnt actually when your head is fanatsizing about doing it. The really troubling suicidal momentsa are quiet and private. Its not "i wanna kill myself". It's an attraction towards death and a sober realization that in that specific moment, you could actually do it, without fear or care for the consequences. In that moment i thought "i could die now. i could o it this way. it would be quick and easy". And the thought was reassuring, calming, soothing. The idea of death was not only attractive but the ULTIMATE SOLUTION. That is, possibly, the most dangerous push you get. If you ignore those moments, opne day you'll do it. And as with serious suicde attempts (the real ones), one day you will succeed, unless you get help.

- Substance Abuse

At first its a fun thing. I wont be a hypocrite: drugs, booze and all substance are fun and enjoyable. Thats why they exist. Yet when the hole is big and life is starting to crush you, the fun becomes a way to ease pain. Which works at first, until you start needing a lot more to have results. Then suddenly no matter how much you use, all you try to obtain is a numb oblivion, which is harder and hrder to get. Then the medication is medicating it slef. You take whatever you take to fix not only the first wounds, but the added ones that the substance leaves. And they become all that you have int he world or that you care for. You dont take breaks anymore because the breaks are too painful . And what it really is at that point, is a slow motion suicide. As a friend i know, who witnessed a close person die of an heroin overdose next to him, "i knew that happens. it happened before. might happen again. but so far, it was too strong gone. so i took it cause i had to. and when someone die, i took it because of that. and over and over"

So, remember, no matter how bad it is, you can get out of it. And no matter how lonely you feel, you probably have someone there who wants to help and feels for you. The second worst victims are always the ones you love. Even more so because those things are almost impossible to help, if the person doesnt acknowledge they need help. You pushj people away and with that, you psuh yourself deeper and depper in the gorund. But, you can get out. Always.

Bad Thoughts That I Couldnt Help But Having But Cause I'm Sort Of A Bad Person

My Dick is the most powerful and out of control of my body and it's definitely the dominating one.

After that, my head is the second most embarassing organ, causing me a lot of self aware embarassement. Its even worse when the two work together. Thank god i still can avoiud saying every single thought i have. Besides typing them here. And everywhere. Damn. Oh, girlo with no bra! Titttiiiiieeeeeeessss...

1) "Animal and children in porn must be really gross but i think i'm definitely more repelled by asian men" (i aint racist. my dick is)

2) "I'd hit that. Would that be legal? And if it is, how can i get around that?" (usually its not about teenagers, since i really aint into that. Everyone else, though... well if only as an experience)

3) "Hmmm that makes me horny" (regarding everything, from a commercial to a pack of chips)

4) "I wonder how they could be in bed" (that totally includes every single being i meet. its not even sexual anymore, i just am curious about how anyone would be in that specific situation)

Less sexual yet horrible thoughts

1) I fucking hate babies but i have to smile to this lady. God that thing must smell bad

2) Still, id love to have one. So i could teach him how to punch people. My minion! Mwahahahahahaha.

3) I wonder if the milk has gone bad. Shall i thow it away. Meh, i'll think of that later (after weeks the carton is yet untouched. bachelor life)

4) Human rights are a fundamental issue and torture is bad, but that mexican rapist sure looks ugly. He defnitely deserves a punch or two.

5) Am i gay or am i just a slut?

6) I wonder if my father will die before i have to fly to the US. If he has to, would it be bad to skip the funeral? Its not like we were THAT close

7)Kitties!

Yeah, yeah... i know.

The Debate Is Dead

Between yesterday and today, my brain has come to a series of realizations that have brought me to a final point: i might want to give up trying to make my points and discuss them.

Let me explain better, if you want to read.

There are a large number of interesting topics that my heart would push me to discuss. People say i am passionate, others say i am obsessive, some appreciate me, other shrug at me, insult me or ridicule me. I am ok with both sides.

I am what i am, if i feel for a point, an issue or a cause, i am passionate about it. I used to dislike apathy and to think that its the real death of the soul. I used to think that any issue, especially important ones, deserve to be addressed with passion, whichever your take on it happens to be. I used to be adamnt on the fact that a healthy, fierce back and forth only produces good results.

I think i have changed my mind.

Many interesting, strongly important things have happened rcently.

I could discuss the recen release of an israeli soldier in exchange for thousands of palestinian prisoners and how it seems that this action has actually enhanced the tension, in my view. How, to save the life of one, murserers and extremists have been set free and how the more intense parts of the population are now chanting for more violence.

I could talk about my country and the harsh times its going through, while a politician is obtaining power through sheer dishonesty, people are trying to protest and being clubbed into repression. And how the world is scoffing at this country without knowing what we're goin through.

I could talk about the many many flaws of the health systems of the world. How european politicians are trying to ban stem cell research in the name of pro-life morals, blocking any chance possible to keep the research that would save lives on going.

But i realized i'm tired of trying to give my heart for that.

Its not because i felt hurt by any discussion. Its a moment of clarity.

Yesterday, my father received the news that, possibly, he will have to deal with recurring methastasis in his urinary tract. Might be something or might not. That doesnt really hurt me or affect me. the man has been diagnosed at least ten times in the last five years. He's sixty five, has gone through surgery three times and he could be ill or not, survive or not, both cases could have effects or nothing at all.

What hit me, is that after the news i went to my mother and found her on her bathroom floor, weeping and distraught. Her and him donbt go along, but if he dies, our finances will be hit by a wave of issues that will destroy us. Also the mere idea of going through the torture of dealing with him being hospitalized again was enough to crush her.

In the mean time, he was loudly bragging how he "doesnt give a fuck if he dies" and other loud, foul declarations of indifference and spite. Which are false but repeated daily.

How does that connect to my previous points. Well in one main way: i wont be crushed by something, no matter how important it is to me, because no one else really cares.

As much as i am passionate about some topics, they're not worth my heart. The best argument only ends with one of the parts acting hurt and using guiolt tricks to ease out of the discussion. And the whole thing isnt worth it.

The world is formed by assholes who do not care about anythiong they say, drop atatemnts that hurt others and then hide behind their right to be free and have opinions. It isnt a fair game.

So i'm out. i give up. I quit

Love For The Love Cast

I am a naturally enthusiastic person but i dislike gushing over people, generally, unless there is a very good reason for me to do so. The man you see in the picture, though, is a blessing. That man, makes me feek better about the world and life at least one time per week. No, hes not my gay lover (although im pretty sure hed make me happy if i was gay and in love with him), he's columnist and podcaster Dan Savage.

For the civilized world, hes a popular name, one that has done a lot for the homosexual rights (lately through the gem of love that is the "it gets better" movement) but also blessed the world with his relationship and sex advice, but for me, a guy who lives in Italy, hes a recent discovery.

I like a few podcats more than others, even less i consider essential to a good day (another one is uncast.net) and his, where he answer to all sorts of question left on his message box by listeners, is absolutely one of those.

He grew on me, from "wow, such good advice and topics delivered with wit and sensitivity" to "thank you for existing, Dan".

There are a few podcasts or websites that give advice of all sorts and generally they grate me. Either the advice is one sided, too humnorous, too serious and scientific, or simply too subjective and often damaging. Savage isnt that way. Hes unique.

The man is always open to all sort of questions and point of views, even the ones he doesnt agree with. He's honest and brash when needed but never judhemental or condescending. He's witty and pleasant, sometime plain out funny but always focused enough to bring a perfect view that if not completely solving the issue, always sets discussion in motion.

Dan Savage makes you think, feel reassured, feel like theres a chance for the world to be abetter place if theres someone out there that can address often delicate issues with so much good heart and intelligence. Bless him.

Revenge Is A Dish That No One Seems to Serve Anymore

Let me introduce this little rant pointing out that i am not completely on one side of this issue or the other. I never have completely formed opinions and even when i do, i am strongly interested into debating the opposite side. One of the few interesting aspects of Marx's social theory was that any thesis has to meet its anti-thesis, in order to form a final synthesis. While i aint totally sure of what that beardy communist's point was, i am thoroughly convinced that no argument is fully deveoped and mature until people have considered all point of views, even the most uncomfotable ones. And since too many people seem to be embracing only soft hearted or comfortable views, i, as a samrt person, feel the need to voice the other side.

I was having a pleasant conversation with a friend, few days ago. He recently had trouble with a neighbour as it often happens into those conglomerates of houses where everyone snaps at the first sign of trouble. Apparently my friend made the mistake of parking his car on a spot that was considered someone else's property (whether that was the fact or not, doesnt intertest me).
Instead of a civilized response or some sort of warning, my friend found his car with all rearview mirrors smashed and keyed.

The reasonable option towards this would be going to the police, yet most of the timne the cops donbt like to get involved into such disputes or simply ignore them. plus, there was no witnesses about the fact and no tangible proof. In my own experience of domestic abuse, cops come and dont really do an ything besides threatening the victims. (that happens in worse situations too). They are paid bullies after all.

The other one would be sueing. In some countries the option seems good, when somoen hurts you somehow or attacks your person or property. Yet, the forementioned problems work there too. Plus, as i again experienced personally, lawyers are leeches who cost you all the money you have. And usually the one with the biggest resource of funds is the winner. Which is usually NOT the person in the right. The legal system has nothing to do with justice anymore.

Now, coinsider what i just wrote. Move the thought to a possibly worse situation. Say, your pet or kid has been attacked. It happens. My father was a big perpetrator of cruelty towards the pets of annoying neighbours. He still denies but he once drove over a neighbours dog on purpose, cackling on the same day how "the guy had it coming".

Now say someone did that to you, what would be the option in your heart, besides the forementioned, falwed, ones? I tell you what is my first choice: revenge.

I know youve been told that revenge is wrong. Youve been told that it doesnt solve issues and that is true. A good person doesnt lower itself on the enemy's (cause thats what all people are naturally to each other: enemies) level. I'm absolutely agreeing about that.

Yet, there are times when payback is needed. Someone blatrantly crosses the line and direspects you, attacks you, invades your boundaries, hurts you on some level..... You need to counter attack. That starts a war, but some wars need to happen sometimes. And sometimes i thinkj a person should show that thney wont back down.

Its a side of human nature that our attempts at civilization are trying to suppress. And maybe suppressing it is the right thing but when people act like uncivilized beasts, i am in favour of giving back an uncivilized response.

When you're a kid anbd you are bullied, whats the best reaction? Standing up.

That should work for larger issues too. Think about it.

New Junk's Trunk Up!!!

A new episode of the coolest podcast in the universe (beside yours even if you have none), is up.

In this episode, yours troooleee analizes the beautiful world of singer/songriters and solo musicans. Lots of touchy feely songs and great voices. Listen, weep, and then listen again.

http://junkstrunk.podomatic.com/player/web/2011-10-16T10_19_38-07_00

Music For Your Pockets : Johnfish Sparkle

You can say whatever your tiny, black, rotten hipster heart wants: music is also dying because there are too many musicians that are more interested into looking "pretty" or "cute" rather than making good music. Whatever is your style of choice, whatever is the kind of music you love, even if it is goofy pop, think about this. There IS a difference between a musician who is cool, does great music, has charisma, a great voice or simply writes great tunes and someone whose material is absoulutelu pointless, if not downright horrendous, but looks pretty.

The pretty boys, with the pretty clothges, that act pretty in videos seem to overrule music nowadays. And ill stick to my own country as an example: the most popular "bands" here are guys like The Jonas Brothers, Justin Bieber or One Direction. I wouldnt have much to say about them or what they play, i havent got anything against pop music that simply pulls off being listenable and easy going. Problem is, said people produce very bad songs or anonymous ones, and get listeners mostly out of press coverage, obsessive airplay, product placement, marketing and the fact that most teenagers and adults who like things mediocre (the real face of mainstream) actually BUY their stuff. So good pop musicians become unknown.

And Rock Bands that play real rock, with musicianship and attitude, that has a heart and a soul, have to go underground, where they have to deal with the tragedy that is the cheap ass undergporund audience, a bunch of bums who like bands but wouldnt spend a dime to help them, if their lives depended on it.

All this rant to reccomend the band in the picture, Jonfish Sparkle. The fellas look cool and retro, like they just stepped out from a documentary about badass rockers from the seventies. And they play exactly like that: Their music is souther tinged, bluesy, melodic, rockin and soulful. Played with skill, heart and melody. With hooks that makes you wanna sing along, vocals that arent studio corrected and supercool guitar solos. Also, they're from ITALY!!!!!

All that means check them out and buy their records.

If you dont, youre missing out and also the world misses out. Support good things and stop pushing CRAP.

http://www.myspace.com/johnfishsparkle

Storytelling : "Grey Areas"

Everyday, from the first hours of the morning, to the time he succeded in slamming his own mind to sleep, Steve lived into a fight. He had a conscience, a powerful, loud one. And that, for some of his colleagues was something he should've taken care of.

They didnt lose their own humanity, they were good people. But when you deal with the animals that roam this world, daily, you need to become anumb. And sometimes make decisions that would trouble you, haunt your dreams, break you down. Many of them drank, saw therapists, were medicated. Others took it out somewhere else. It was a job that had a price and slowly but surely ate at you, feeding on your heart and sould and turning them against you.

Steve wasnt different. He had no family thought and that made him a peculiar case. One of those men that consider things from a different point of view. A "single number" that calculated the consequences of his own actions only by his own set of values and not on the consequences that they could have on his loved ones. And he had no loved ones. He loved but couldnt hoòd it for long. Simply, the things that lived inside his heart ended up eating away at anything that helped the love survive.

Still, he was a good man. He saw the black. Saw the white. And saw plenty of grey areas.

That day started slowly. His head feeling groggy and hazy, with a persisten pain at the base of his neck. "Accumulated tension", his Kinesis therapist said. the man was tiny and efficient. Gave him a few lesson on his posture that saved him from the million migraines that he used to have and attack with painkillers, like his father did. Yet, today the pain was incredibly resilient and almost unreal. Like a rusty nail driven between the vertebrae.

His partner, Dom, came close. A stern, weathered face. Bad news.

"Look, this isnt gonna be pretty but you're the opnly one that seems available and you can handle people well...."

"Go ahead..."

"A kid, fifteen year old. Stabbed his father in the neck with a fork. Called in and asked us to come and get him. Didnt resist the arrest. His mother was there too, cleaning the blood from the floor"

"Ah shit. Anything else"

"Well he keeps saying he was abused and he couldnt take it anymore"

Stevn entered the room. The kid was frail looking but with a fixed, intent stare on his face. He didnt look scared or traumatized. He just looked.... Like he was waiting for things to happen.

Steve sat in fron of him. Looked at him for a little while. The kid took his time but raised his face and stared back. He had no fear. He wasnt cocky or arrogant but looked like he was sure of having done the right thing.

"What's your name"

"Michael"

"So, Michael... What happened..."

"He kept doing it. So i couldnt take it anymore. I took him out"

"he hit you? Hit your mother?"

The kid paused. His eyes darted. Then he began staring again.

"He stared"

Steve took it in. Ok, the kid was a psychopath. Damn.

"He... stared?"

Michael kept looking at him, in the eyes. The stare became more intense more fixated. Any sign of fear or unceratinity that might have been in it, went away. He was still. He spoke, with a voice made of anger and resolution.

"You dont know. You cant understand. He stared. Constantly. At me. At mom. Mom started drinking heavily, years ago. To numb the pain from what he did. He never hit her. He wasnt a hitter, But he woke her up in the night and started calling her a cunt, a slut, a filthy whore. With no reason. Just because he liked to see her hurt. She want to divorce him but she couldnt afford it. She lost her job ouyt ofa nervous brekdown. Kept going at work after nights of lack of sleep and dozed off there. They fired her. They didnt know that he creamed in her ears as loud as he can, in the middle of the night. That he suddenly went to another room and started trashing things, so she had to go and stop him. Or threatened to hurt me. He never hit her so no one paid atrtention, but he scared her. when she was etaing he could just snap, take the food and throw it away. Saying that he paid for that so he could do whatever he wanted. Then he disappeared for days. Came back drunk and started yelling and throwing stuff around. And the stares. He was always there, looking, watching whatever you did. And at the first sign of staring back he started yelling, threatening, calling you a pussy, a cunt, a piece of shit. I had a cat, he killed it. He said it was for health reasons but he looked at me crying and he laughed. I was ten. She couldnt defend me anymore. And she wanted to kill herself. So i took him first..... "

Steve stood silently. Thinking. Watching the boy. Then he grbbed his shirt.

"Listen you little creep. I see kids your age who get raped, tortured, beaten daily. Whose parents abandon them on the street and that have to fight against drug using mothers that try to kill them. Sexually abused. My father did that to me. COnstantly. And my mother hated me because she said that i turned him into a bad person. So i outgrew him and started defending thye victims. But now people like you claim to be abused. Yeah, your fatyher was a bastard. Probably. But he didnt abuse you. You never bled. And your mother ended up like sxhe did, because she was weak. Just like you. And you know youre not going top jail cause youre a minor. If it was for me, you should be executed. But you wont. And yet you have taken two lives. His. And hers. She will be destroyed by this. She will die. She will be ashamed and will not be able to live through what you did. So enjoy the thought"

Michael trembled. tears filled his eyes, while his expression did not change.

"You cannot understand.... You didnt live there"

Steve neared a clenched fist to his face.

"I will beat you to a pulp if you say one more word, punk. I wasnt there but i saw kids like you, thinking that their life is so miserable, so they're allowed to do everything. Life is tougher than you think, you little cunt. I see it everyday. A stare doesnt leave scars"

Steve dragged Michael to a tiny cell occupied by two thugs. The kid didnt resist. Didnt cry. He was silent.

"These two know how tough life can be. They'll teach you a lesson, pussy boy. Time for you to deal with the real world".

He threw it in there. Michael sat, expressioneless and stoic. The two thugs laughed. One gave the kid a slight kick.

Steve watched. He begvan to say somethign, but didnt. He moved away. It was almost night.

Hours ago, when the sun started peeking from the horizon, he got a phone call.

The kid was dead. The two guys smashed his head on the floor. After teasing hi9m and hitting him all night without him responding, they got angry and one got too far. Apparently they couldnt stop them before it got ugly. Michael died a bit afterwards. He didnt resist, it was said. He kinda let all happen and let them take him out.

Steve tried to look in himslef for guilt. But there was none. Just a grey area.

Poopcasters (hehehe...)

Well, at this point i have spread my newly found attempt at being something more than an average lame-o all over the web. I have podcasted. So i cant point my finger at podcasters and call them "self absorbed nerds who think they have something interesting to say" anymore. Actually if i ever did that, i should amputate my own testicles, cause it would mean that i'm one of technophobic snobs that love to ruin life for everyone by snarking at creativty.

Instead i will bash at myself and many of my podcaster buddies with the ultimate tool for modern comedy: a LIST! OOoooooooh SNappetysnap!

So, podcasters and their show could be easily divided in a series of categories:

DISCALIMER: really great podcasts arent really into any of these categories but are also rare. If you find them, hold on to them like they're gold ( uncast.net ... just saying....)

The Group Ones.

- The Popular Any-Time-Of-The-Day Zoo

Popular doesnt mean really popular, of course. Podcasting means inherently that your audience makes the effort to find your stuff, where the average "mainstream" audience of any medium is the one who listes to you by chance or casually.

Still, there's a few of these, that are spread out enough to become "cult" or gain enough of an audience to actually be professionals. One of the mian examples of those is the style of the "zoo crew".

Remember Howard Stern? Rememeber how suddenly after he changed how radio sounded forever and caused a wave of maladjusted clones of his style that suddenly wanted to be that way? Thats whgat those show are. They're long, generally. They have a couple of regular hosts, who often have nicknames ("Ricky and The Horny Hamster"), or are referred as an entity ("The Sucidal Dildo Bunch"). They are loud, often crass and a bit annoying. Their idea of edgy is to say a lot of racist stuff, play crass songs, have calls by their more reatrded listeners, whom they make fun of on air (and whom are so attached to the show they will hardly abandon it even if the show sent a group of stormtroopers to their house). They like to use soundclips, some of them are taken from the news and transformed into psychotic bits that will be played inappropriately a million times until you wanna die (remember Mel Gibson screaming "you should just smile and blow me"? yeah that over and over and over and over and over and over). Also they have a few regular guests that play as characters and are probably not even remotely that way in real life.

The fans of this type of shows are really obsessive, rude and unfriendly. Or cast outs like Juggalos.

- The Bunch Of Comedians That Are Amusing Each Other

A group of comedians who usually are funny onstage but are the most horrible and annoying people on earth in person, lock up in a studio and discuss stuff. Generally, what happens next is that they will all try to outjoke each other, not finishing sentences, be neurotic about silliness, discuss comedy (and bore to death anyone who isnt a comedian or a nerd) or, god help us, start doing improvised "bits". Some of those work, most of those dont. When they dont the result is like being at a party where everyone yerlls over each other and laughs but no one really knows what the fuck is happening. They have fun, though.

-The Elite That No One Knows

It happens less lately but it still happens. Sometime a group of people decide to form a poidcast and start talking about people that only they know, do inside joke that fly over the head of most listeners, and talk about happenings no one attended. Its likie hearing a joke ending without having listened to the opening bit. Makes you feel used and a bit soiled.

The Solos

- The Comedian Who Needs To Say Things

At some points of their career, all comics go into a slef deprecating crysis, relizer that whatever they do isnt good anymore, and start trying everything in order to fill a void in their soul. So at some point, theyll write a book, try acting, haver a music career (AIEEEEE). And eventually do podcasting, since its "what's hip". They will start with the worst sound ever, locked up ins some basement, generally make a lot of mean sprited jokes at how "no one listens". At some point theyll gains omelisteners, often fans. Theyll appreciate that, but it wont be enough, since they want more. Theyll beg for more listeners, donations and complain a lot and be angry. At this point the show either becomes brilliant or dies off.

- The Average Joes Who Have Opinions

Similar to the comedian ones. Only these guys arent usually very funny. They will generally rant about their lives, looking for sympathy and support, or talk about various topic in a chaotic, sometimes brilliant way. As the comedians route, usually at some point theyll have an illusion of being able to do it for a living but it will be harder for them, since no one really knows who they are. A very few of those will survive and grow, most will die off, since those people have real lives and jobs.

The Specifics

- The Music Lover

This one plays tracks and is usually very good at it. It would seem the obvious choice but apparently thers not many of them, since egveryone wants to be a comic. The few good ones are good enough to change your life

- The Critics

They dissect stuff. Movies, books, pop culture or their favourite stuff. They may be actual critics which usually makes them obnoxious snobs who stopped loving what they are reviewing ages ago out of jaded boredom, or be fans. Now fans are dangerous. They will say outlandish crap and often be very poisonous at the first sign of negativity wether its the audience or other podcasts or anything really. The effect is similar to going to a Comic Con and yelling "NERRRRRRRDS". Only in audio form.

- The Brits

I swear, i dont mean to be snarky or xenophobic, but when you hear a British podcast youll know. And i aint talking about the accent. Theres something in british people, no matter what theyre talking about that just makes them stick out. An example? The Monocle Weekly. they could be talking about a terrorist attack and they will still sound like they're describing the latest brand of afternoin tea, while chuckling politely and making silly puns. Its fascinating and absolutely puzzling at the same time....

Fell free to add and comment or fuck off, as usual.

The Mistery Of Respect

"Respect" is a word that is getting used in a constant, almost obsessive manner, in the late days.

If you followed the path of my thought bubbles so far, you probably noticed how much disdain i have for any sort of judgmental use of broad concept like love, hate, friendship or, case in point, respect to poreach some sort of generic message or analysis of humanity.

I do analyze people, they way they interact with each other or, even more, how i interact with them. Yet i find HIDEOUS whenever i read or hear people sermonizing on "how people should behavce" or on "how things really are". I find repulsive, whenever anyone takes place on the top of the mount in order to sermonize on their own version of the truth on people and how they should be.

The word "respect" is a particular favourite, it seems.

I think the concept of "respect" has been excessively skewered, with time, and fell victim of the pussyfication of people and the gigantic wave of fake niceness that seem to be the norm between, non self aware persons.

If you think it over, as you should, respect isnt something that you should have towards everyone. People like to say that, but its not a good idea or a good concept. Like the idea of "universal love", its a sugary and grotesque utopia that just ruins the precious and unique aspect of a feeling when given spontaneously.

Respect is hard to get, and its supposed to be that way. No one naturally respects people. Your family does not respect what you do or what you are. You do not respect others. You tolerate them, accept what they do, but the fundamental, main drive for any individual is to recognize their own good side or negate the good in tohyers. And if and when they decide to include a family or loved one in the pictuire, they will work at bringing out the positive in their actions or protect them from negativity.

Outside of those boundaries, people will not respect anyone. A classic anecdote is how a father will generally keep being slightly disappointed and unaccepting of their offspring until they die. Generally any person will find the other part's actions, accomplishments, lives, even taste, only worth of praise or acceptance up to the point where it benefits them. Besides that,m the natural instinct is either indifference or criticism. Hate or shrug-off tolerance.

No one respects anyone unless they are worked into that and thats how it should be. You dont get character for free.

Curse Of The Spoiler(er)

Right. Spoiler Alert.

But i got so much of that shit this morning, that i had to take it out on someone else. As a form of karmic retribution.

See, people like me like a few things. We're happy with our few passions. We like sex. We like music. We like a night out with good friends. And once in a while a movie or an hour with our favourite shows. But apparently a lot of people out there like to destroy's other people's fun. Thats' their main enjoyment in life.

And i could actually deal with it better if those people were goofy writers (like the guys at Kotaku, who seem to have decided that telling game endings in headlines is a serious professiona MO) or sociopathic trolls. But the problem is that i'm witnessing that behaviour spreading more and more between people that i know for a fact, should know better, and i interact with on a normal basis.

Its possibly connected with my previous post on how humans have an instinctual thrive towards negativtiy and a natural enjoyment for ruining other people's fun. And it takes a completely different edge, on various level.

A movie, book or series is objectively not an important thing. If you're really passionate about them, many people will regard you with spite. If you actually look forward to these forms of enetrtainment as something good, something that will bring your mood up and a possible good time in your life, many willregard you as a tyarget of scorn, hate and spite. So in a natural move, they will need to ruin that for you. Insert different time zones, the possibility of getting information easily through the web and a series of self justifications that make no sense ("well a day has passed i can do that" "Oh its just a movie, nerd" "it's for the lulz") and here comes the parade of wastes of flesh destroying entertainment for everyone.

People these days seem to focus a lot on negative criuticism or insulting comments as the ultimate manifestation of hatred. But what about someone who purposefully ruins your enjoyment of something, knowingly so and does it on such a repeated offender basis that they have to be avoided like the plague. And at that point they find ways to get at you anyway?

On a human level, a face to face one, a person who spils movies would become an outcast. It happened to me, a lot. I had firends who did that and they were hated and despised. regarded as scumbags who should be cast out from any social group. But somethignhappened at a certain point of time, and that became not only ok, but hilarious.

I want a nuclear holocaust.

Junk's Trunk -A miserable attempt at podcasting

I did.

I made a podcast.

This officially means that i'm a rambling madman. I lost all respect for myself. Sorry.

Still, get it. Share it. DOOOOOOO IT.

http://podcast49715.podomatic.com/entry/2011-10-09T11_20_54-07_00

Music For Your Pockets: Tracer "Spaces In Between"

Unless you're seriously allergic to good music, ther's a few bands that entered history through the power of great rock.

And others who just made albums that were more powerful and soothing to the soul than pretty muchy any sort of medicine or therapy made by doctors and paharmaceutical tyrants. Think, whether you like them or not, of Soundgarden, or Nirvana, at their peak. or go back and think of Led Zeppelin.

Of course, especially in these days, peopple are used to enjoy soulless music that they hear on the radio and barely let those tunes do anything besides filling up silence and time. But when those bands were at their peak, they changed lives. They did albums that are still loved, bought and re-listened over and over and over by people and still give waves of feelings and emotion.

There's a level of purity to some music, and i aint necessarily talking about rock, that goes beyond time, fame or genres. Most musicians should always be playing from the heart and soul. It doesnt happen that often anymore. Where you once had Tori Amos baring her own very soul even when playing cover songs on "Strange Little Girls" and making them almost hard to listen to, or The Pixies reinventing how you could marry feedback and vinegar to perfect pop and become a staple of someone's youth, now you have an army of semi-identical factory made drones that do music by the numbers, in order to become a forgettable sensation that will be forgotten in a couple of hours.

So when i hear a band that does their own thing with soul, guts, ball and heart, i love them to bits and pieces and want to support them in any possible way.

Tracer is a power trio from Australia. They play that type of hard rock that is balanced between the seventies school and the grunge days. Big guitars, superb, nopn overproduced vocals, epic melodies and a heart as big as the sky. Go for 'em.

http://www.myspace.com/traceronmyspace

Bad Seeds

A couple of days ago, i was discussing with a dear friend, the increasing doses of negativity that seems to be spreading into any sort of manifestation of the people's thoughts, whether its a social network, a message board or even a bar discussion. Before i go on, let me stress one more time how i refuse to consider "internet" as anything radically different from face to face human interactions. All it has, is the lack of a social filter, to some extent. What you hear from people on the web is the same stuff you'd hear in a pub after a few beers. The "Anonimty" idea is silly, since most places for discussion today are formed by people that sort of know each other and would probably interact in the exact same way if they met and did not have the average need for politeness and restraint that makes us different from animals.

Now to the main point.

Let's take as a subject of analysis, today's announcement of the death of Steve Jobs.

Since i learned about it this morning, ive witnessed reactions that cover the whole spectrum: people who acknowledged the news for what it is, the death of a man that was controversial but extremely influential towards the modern age and died of a horrifying disease, people who reacted with over the top grief or some sort of plastic eulogy that they give even to people they really never heard of (but thats a quirk too), the humourous people, who have an addiction towards desperately trying to get attention with mediocre jokes, on everything, and, the worst of the bunch, the negative haters.

The last in the list are discomforting, and yet the purest expression of how i consider human nature.

Move your attention away from the Jobs example. Recently, the italian government is trying its best to put in action a law that is openly and without a doubt a tool to allow absolute censorship and the possiblity for political parties to freely censor any sort of information that could damage them, whether its true or not. Now i aint usually in favour of political causes or ideology but i can see how that is OBJECTIVELY a dangerous law, that would also fit in the extremely oppressive climate of the country.

Still ive witnessed a high number of comments that just spreaded spite and negativity about it, sentences that call for dictatorship, violence and hatred. No matter how bad and morally wrong a piece of ideology or news is, people will be for it and up the negativity a notch.

The death of someone that a majority loved, will be for a large number, a great occasion to hurt others. People will be spiteful, not out of a different opinion (although they will hide behind the ever-so-misused ide of "freedom of speech" and "telling it like it is"), but just because the most instinctive trait of human beings is being negative ans spiteful.

People are scum, and they will hate. Always. There will be a few ones that, for a coincidence of stars, will be positive and loving, that will be actually pleasant to talk to and open to ideas and tolerance. But the majortiy will be hateful and angry. Where animals have teeth and claws, humans have hate. Passions, religion, politics, all the evolution of the brain and the structures we built will be used by a lot as a tool to hate and a way to attack and not to unite.

And on a basic level, most of those people deserve to be killed or hurt. But since we live in a society with laws where everyone uses lawyers as a substitute for dignity, we must be indifferent. Stop listening and ignore. Be passionate but also feel superior. Its a given right of the few good ones.

It Does Get Better

Genrally, from the moment i wake up, to a random spot in the day, my brain has the tendency to emanate some weird sort of viebe that isd a mixture of negativity and cyncism. Some people perceive that as self-awareness and insightful honesty. I honestly think i'm just really erudite and bitter, with a slight tendency to self pity and a need for attention.

Today, while trying to sort out thoughts and decision, i had what could be called, if i was even more pretentious, which i could easily be, an epiphany.

I was listening to Dan Savage's podcast. If you're one of the few sad beings who are unaware of who Dan Savage is, dont feel guilty, i spent ages without knowing 99% of stuff, too. Its never too late to discover great things.

Dan Savage is a renowned columnist and writer, an openly gay man, who is smart, pleasant and thoughtful and gives sexual advice on his columsn and thgis podcast to whoever calls him with any sort of question. I dont automatically agree with everything he says, where a lot of his more devoted listeners do, but i like the humble, tactful and actually caring way he approaches topics, while never ceasing to be honest.

This morning, before dropping his weekly advice, Mr Savage stopped for a minute to discuss some news, that i usually would see anywhere and ignore or take in without really caring, not out of disapproval or lack of heart, mostly out of numbness. A young kid named Jamey Rodemeyer, commited suicide recently.

The kid had been part of the "It Gets Better" project, started by Savage himself. The project helps through a series of videos and activities, the reaching out towards homosexual teenager who are experiencing the trauma of coming out and homophobia, trying to make them feel less alone and reassuring that their life CAN actually improve. He posted a video, trying top be positive and looking for help. Yet, eventually, the homophobic mangler got the best of him and crushed him into despair.

Usually, my extremely embittered nature, whom is apartially a result of depression and partially a shield against disappointment, would make me say "no, it doesnt get better". And a part of me thinks that. But i had to think about how mosntruous it must be to live in a situation like that.

I live ina homophobic country, highly homophobic. Whether it has to do with religion or machismo, i aint sure. Fact is, that, yes, there are guys who are ouyt of the cloiset and live a decent life in Italy but they're also way less than in other countries and mostly focused in open minded cities. And even they had a rough time. Homophobic based murders arent an insanity here. The law almost complketely ignores the notion of "hate crime" and not only i know violently homophobic people, i grew up with a few of them.

I am mostly straight, i discovered myself as bisexual in the later years of my life. At the moment i feel like i could honestly go both ways. But my family doesnt know that and they never will. They are not openly homophobic, and they hide often behind the mask of indifferent, catholic, tolerance but i'm pretty sure that if i ever were gay and decided to come out, they would not have accepted it.

My father had issues with my mother in the past, where as a last attempt at poking at hi ego, she started alludsing that he was a homosexual and (in classic catholic fashion) consequently a pedohpile. She accused him, amany times, during drunbken binges, to have lost his job for making advances on his bosses. Or having molested me sexually when i was a kid (sometime asking me drunkenly if it happened and attacking me when i denied). At some point, she even worded that concept as "of course he is a pussy and a faggot, you turned him into one".

Those kind of venomous, alcohol fueled things were pretty much the norm in my house. There was a lot of "homosexuality is a sickness", "gay people are pitiful and disgusting".

I honestly have goosebumps thinking of the eventuality of being a gay son in such a situation. And i am emotionally removed from them. even if i decided to be gay, i am sure i would NEVER tell them. I got to that point at 33 years old.

And i wont get into the hatred, the violence and the bashing i can see daily in the streets. Being a gay teenager can be something nightmarish.

It does get better and one can run far far away. Far from the people who want tpo make sexual re-education mandatory, far from the singer who become radio sensations with homophobic hits, far from the work places that fire people for inappropriate tendencies". Up to that, though one needs all the help in the world.

So, if you have a minute, help: http://www.itgetsbetter.org/

Life Line

A man is sitting on a ledge. Suddenly he decides to stand up. People see him. He seems to have the intention of jumping down, People gather, someone screams, other laugh, others decide to call the cops.

When the cops arrive they focus on trying to get the man down, alive. Efforts and risks are focused towards stopping a person that they do not know from taking its own life of his own will.

A man is in his own room. He has divorced from his wife recently. Happened after he lost his job. A casualty of the economy or just of his own being outdated. Or maybe he was just a loser. There's plenty of people like that, who lack ability, character, brains or brawn to survive through the game. Most of his friends and family forgot about him or just dont wantr to deal with the uncomfortable tension that talking to him would cause. He has problems sleeping so he takes pills. One too many. He dies. No drama about it.

A bedridden woman, lives with unbearable pain everyday. She will die sometimes soon, on her own but so far her relatives and the doctors seem to be thriving on testing all sorts of Mengtele-like experiments on her. One day, a good looking professionaql with rimmed glasses and a plastic smile told her that they would test a procedure that would possibly cause her a "permanent state of pain close to the type one experiences through childbirth", in order to obtain some slight improvement in her T-Cell count.

Tired with this, she tells her husband that she wants to let go and quit. He refuses. He get6s angry: He tells the doctors, who give her speeches. Priests get into it. She used to belive ing od as a comforting figure who watched her all the way, loving her unconditionally. Now they're telling her she cannot make a choice. God wants her to suffer.

A young kid fights with leukemia daily. He has more strength than a warrior, is attached to life with teeth and claws. No matter what the illness does to him, he always strikes back. He wants to destroy the illness. Everyone around him seems to be giving up, wallowing in their desperation. He thinks they're pussies. He will show them. Yet, he hardly can pay the therapies. NBo matter how hard he tries, his insurance wont pay. The system seems to have forgotten about him, or worse, dropped him from their list, because he's already dead in their schedule and they have bigger issues to fix. His friends dont visit him anymore. They feel uncomfortable. His parents cry. His girlfriend left him, cause she couldnt deal with the pressure and started a new life with someone more healthy and secure. Seems he would do everyone a favour if he died. But he wont and doesnt want to.

A girl gets pregnant. She cant raise a child on her own and the father has run away. They tell her she should try anbd ask for help. They dont know, there is NO help. Giving the child for adoption would put her in trouble. Too many procedures, too much chaos. She just wants to do what she has to do. But the stigma. The hatred. The suffering.

Where is the line. What life is precious and what is not? I aint asking because i am trying to push a moral here. I am personally convinced that no life is precious and that any individual has the right to choose when life starts and when life ends. I'm in favour of euthanasia and abortion. And somehow, i am in favour of suicide. If a person doesnt have any responsiblity towards others, has no kids or loved ones to think of, and feels like their life has no meaning, they should be allowed to end it freely. Still, i can see why people seem to have an attachment towards the concept of life. But yet that line keeps shifting. Some lives are important, others are less. Which is realistic, since not all people are equally important to everyone , thats a fact. If i dont care for a person, i dont care if they live or die. I dont root for life as a principle. Actually i think there should be more people dying than there actually are, especially old people. I'm not saying this out of hate, but this obsession with prolonging life is what is driving society into the gorund. We do not have space for everyone. Some are supposed to go. We shouldfocus on the ones that should be saved.

And yet the line keeps shifting. Though gig. One thing: the life of a cat is more important than the life of a human. Fact.

Mortality

My father reached the age of sicty five. My mother is sixty three. They have both lived their lives badly, not taking care of themselves and are not in good shape. He has been under surgery for tumor removal at least three times. She is an alcoholic with heart issues.

A good friend of mine is fighting against cancer. But thinking about his survival has an aftertaste of battke, a focsu on what he will have to do in order to win over the illness, that gives his case and what i might feel about it a whole different edge.

That edge was there also whenever my father, with whom i never had a good relationship and left many things unsoved, was on a hospital bed. I got used to force myself into thinking about what to do, where to visit hiom, what docotor i should talk to, what sort of procedure he would have to follow. That always gave me the emotional detachment and armour i needed to forget that in the event of his death, i would have felt guilty of not ever giving him what he wanted from me. Of spending time dodging his attitude, more than focusing on building good thinbgs between us.

I always tried to live my life one minute at a time. And iu am not saying this in a romantical way. I had to focus on my daily grind, on immediate goals, on the repetition of simple taskks, or my tenedncy to fraking out and the fear for the future would have crushed me into a hole of depression and possible suicide attempts very quickly. Yet, living this way, takes time away from you in a subtle manner. You survive, filling days with actions and trying to work your way through them. But at the first pause, you look backj and you suddenly realize that everything around you has changed.

People have changed. Some of them died. And at moments i realize that my family could die soon. Wihout any warning.

I tried at times to face the fact and rebuild a rtelationship with them, but it was messy and awkward. I havent been a good person for many years. I havent given them any grandkids. Not that those things wouldve made them happier perople, of that i'm certain. Still, there is much more i couldve done and now its way too late to be fixed.

Thats what really kinda puzzles me. Its a war between my need to not obsess on what i could change, on what has gone away, on what i shouldve done or not done, on how days and time are slipping through my fingers, on how i seem to be unable to make most things better, on how a lot of the later years of my life seem to have been sucked into a hole and how i seem to have lost more things and people than i've gained.... My need to not think of that daily, and all night, letting my head rot on "what ifs" and disappointments so i can actually stay alive and the fact that all said thinks happened and will keep happening. People will die, time will disappear, i will loose friends and loved ones and make mistakes and i have no idea of how i can stop it. I have an almost certain feeling that i will die alone, that the world will move on without me and that i will realize that the ones i fought wer the only ones that cared.

Weird times.