There is Only One Conclusion to Every Story, We All Fall Down.

A wise man once told me that in order to truly judge a person, don't judge them when they are in the best of times, instead judge them by how they act at the worst of times. The reasoning behind this is fairly simple. When you are in a very good place mentally and physically, it is very easy to be a good person. When you are at your worst place, it takes that much more to still be a good person. We all know people who are miserable, and in turn, make the world around them miserable for everyone else. I don't know if this is caused by self-pity, or perhaps there is some primordial implant telling us that misery does love company, but it is very important to recognize when you are turning into that miserable sod, and do everything in your power to reverse the trend. We have all been guilty of this, and I'm not saying that during the shittiest moments in your life you can't be down or depressed, but as a whole we have to recognize when we are going down that path and consciously make changes to prevent ourselves from being sucked down into the bog.

The thing that really sucks about this premise is some people keep themselves in a hole for so long they begin to accept that misery is their natural state, and if they aren't in a state like this at the moment, it just means that something worse is coming around the corner. People in this state seem to relish the fact that they are miserable, and can only gain comfort by a) thinking that there must be someone in life who is more miserable than them, b) rebelling and hating everyone around them in order to detach themselves from any outside influence that could change there state of misery or c) making everyone around them miserable so they don't feel alone. It's like the symbol of the snake eating it's own tail. It's an emotional perpetual motion machine. The longer it goes on, the harder it is to break the cycle. I truly and honestly believe that anyone can change this state if they believe they want to. Often times it's a very difficult uphill battle, but can be accomplished with enough power of will. The whole trick is recognizing that you want to change and doing it. It's an addiction. In order to beat it, you have to recognize it.

The one thing I will add to this is my hatred of the medical machine. Where the hell did that come from? Well, I'll tell you. The medical machine prescribes millions of dollars worth of medication every year for people to deal with depression. I'm not saying that all the cases are not necessary, but I'd be willing to say that eighty percent of those prescriptions are not needed. Most of the time, people just need to be heard and taught how to change their life for the better, but where are the profit margins in that for the big drug corporations? Instead, let's prescribe barely tested drugs to turn the populace into zombies so they don't object and keep coming back for more drugs that are completely and utterly fucking up their soft organs, and who knows what they are doing to the chemicals in their brains.

Everyone is looking for a quick fix, and it will only cost you a hundred dollars a month for the meds (which are paid for by the government)...and your kidneys.

People need to wake the fuck up and realize that the only way you can change is to consciously do it yourself, and want to make that change. It's not going to happen overnight, or maybe it could. The problem is people don't try.

There are a couple of points that I'm passionate about, and I managed to get myself started on one. The problem is when you see this happen to some one who is close to you, and no matter what you do, you can't do anything about it. Watching someone slowly kill themselves, emotionally as well as physically, for no real reason is one of the hardest things anyone will ever have to deal with. It's one of those experiences that I hope never to go through again.

Now, you may be asking yourself, where the fuck is he going with all this? The answer is, he doesn't know. Just one of those ideas that popped in my head I suppose. Ok, the truth of the matter is, I've often poke fun at my own (fictitious) string of bad luck. Not to say that this shit doesn't happen, but I wanted to state that I don't believe that I am destined for (non-existent) bad luck in my life. The reason that I mostly write about these kinds of things is because they are fun tales to tell. To paraphrase Douglas Adams (ha, It's been a while, but I knew I'd quote him again), no one wants to read a story about some ones average day. Lest we forget about the great orators Thomas Chong and Cheech Marin. "On the first day of my summer vacation I went down town to look for a job, and hung out in front of the drug store..." etc etc etc. It’s perfect for comedic value, but not for exciting writing. No one wants to read a forty-two page essay about me waking up, having a shower, brushing my teeth, getting dressed and driving to work.

Well, that was quite a Sunday entry. I have to get on my soapbox occasionally or I'll explode in outrage all over the place. It usually ends up coming out when I'm pub crawling and ends with yet another bar I'm not allowed in. I'm running out of pubs around my house...

"A misery is not to be measured from the nature of the evil, but from the temper of the sufferer."
Joseph Addison