Behind the walls of text on this blog is a deeply tormented individual, warring bitterly with the cruelties on which humankind has built its world. The items here discuss or emerge from pain.
Pain changes people. As societies we have not been very good at understanding that.
The Problems
They never listen...they never listen...
Happiness is a choice! I choose to be HAPPY!
...you get hurt if you let yourself get hurt...
Oh will you just LISTEN!
A short story dedicated to everyone who has been broken by the madnesses of their societies then blamed for their own suffering.
For Now I Stand Upon the Threshold
A poem composed in the depths of a severe nervous breakdown. A bitter elegy of anguish, despair and destruction.
A Walking Wall
A short, sad poem.
On Suicide, or Suicidogenic Societies
A frank discussion of suicide, including why suicidal people are not selfish, why our societies are largely responsible for it, and what we (including you) can do to address it.
The Abuse of Gratitude
It is never a good thing to tell a person in misery to be more grateful. A look at gratitude, a concept not nearly so fabulous as is often portrayed.
Conclusions on Happiness
Written at the end of five years in Tokyo, some short and bitter reflections on the subject of happiness. What an evil thing it can be.
They never listen...they never listen...
Happiness is a choice! I choose to be HAPPY!
...you get hurt if you let yourself get hurt...
Oh will you just LISTEN!
A short story dedicated to everyone who has been broken by the madnesses of their societies then blamed for their own suffering.
A poem composed in the depths of a severe nervous breakdown. A bitter elegy of anguish, despair and destruction.
A short, sad poem.
A frank discussion of suicide, including why suicidal people are not selfish, why our societies are largely responsible for it, and what we (including you) can do to address it.
It is never a good thing to tell a person in misery to be more grateful. A look at gratitude, a concept not nearly so fabulous as is often portrayed.
Written at the end of five years in Tokyo, some short and bitter reflections on the subject of happiness. What an evil thing it can be.
