Sunday, December 20, 2015

another orchid suicided


In trying to rationalize why I keep doing assisted suicide with these fkrs, I've observed that only new varieties are doing this.  My old ones are of a hardier stock.  I think there is some virus or fungus going around, which maybe originated from one of the ones my dad gave me.  Dammit.  Their leaves start turning yellow with black spots and then fall out.  I hope it doesn't wipe out my whole crop.  If it becomes more widespread, I'll have to decide to either let nature take its course or to step in with chemicals.  I hate chemicals.  Another lesson in letting go, I suppose.

I'm not sure wtf happened to me last night, but I fell asleep at about 7:30 pm.  On a Saturday night.  I'm guessing my body was tired from working out.  The lunges especially killed me.  This video helped me to stretch through the muscle pain.


The old me is cringing.  The current me is feeling somewhat rested.  Except.  I woke up in the middle of the night for a few hours.  I hope I don't start the bifurcated sleeping again.  That's kind of annoying.  I did manage over eight hours, but it feels more stressful when I'm awake in the middle of the night, either worrying about getting enough sleep or worse yet, thinking. 

I woke to see several messages on my phone, the most disturbing of which was about a friend of a friend who also suicided.  Much more serious than my orchids doing it.  My friend asked if I thought anyone had any idea the pain some people go through.  I'll answer again, publicly.  No.  There is so much inner pain that some people carry with them everywhere.  At all times.  It manifests itself now more than ever at the holidays because there is such an emphasis on family, happiness, and togetherness.  Those of us who don't have that are reminded at every turn.  Every store and every song and every person seem to say, "hey fkr, why are you such a loser that you don't have the Norman Rockwell ideal life?"  During the rest of the year, denial is a little easier, and the pressure feels less. 

Please take the time today, this whole week, and imagine that perhaps that smiling person behind you in line is having a much more difficult experience than you can ever know.  And give them a genuine smile.  That's why I continue to smile at strangers, even the weird ones who I'm secretly judging and making up back stories, because no one knows the pain others carry.  And human connection can ease that, if only for one brief moment in time.

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