antonarchus

What You Hear In The Laundry Room

Ghosts and whispers,

Furniture being moved in dragon castle,

Arguments,

Butt slaps,

Complaints of running nose,

Fist fights for a piece of bread,

Snoring of a drunk man next door,

Whining of a rusty door in the wind

Plastic mattresses sewn in two by intoxicated gnomes in golden capes

And a virgin elephant deflowered by

The ministry of defense –

All these and possibly more

Interesting and tragic sounds

One can hear in the white noise

Of a homeless shelter laundry room

With a door open.

the image was copied from https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwiMkYa5jKLlAhX0OX0KHSsxD70QjRx6BAgBEAQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.heraldextra.com%2Fmomclick%2Fhome-and-garden%2Fsavvy-organizing%2Fquick-fixes-for-a-messy-laundry-room%2Farticle_d8b9eb97-6cf3-5008-929d-bee5cf6d7b57.html&psig=AOvVaw3vNC2Nedvebzq51wIW9bb3&ust=1571360559155805 and laundered by me. thanks.

Fire it up

Making fire is akin to dealing with an alcoholic friend. You have to be gentle, but you have to watch it at all times. This friend could be fun and chatty, but also mischievous and raging.

You start making fire from small to large, that’s how I was taught. Small splinters catch the flame from paper, and as the splinters are half burnt, the larger pieces of wood get aflame. And from then on the logs get into play too.

As for important factor in making fire, that is cutting wood, it goes the other way: from larger to smaller. That’s how you make the splinters, and since I use them each time I start fire, I need a lot of splinters. I “shave” those logs into splinters for an hour, because I may need them for days, right?

Then you make sure your future fire has enough air supply. If you make your fire outside of a dwelling, no much bother, I guess. But inside in the fireplace built into the wall, take notice. I had to learn the hard (but not disastrous) way how that works. Fire is energy that feeds on air. Let it breathe and give plenty. Leave spaces, however small so the fire’s soul was free, not entombed. Make sure the air shaft is open in the chimney.

It is after that you are ready to put up the construction, the Pyre. Paper on bottom, splinters above it, the large chunks over. Then you add the logs. You need to make sure that all of that is not piled up like a havoc wind came through. With that, make sure to keep the fire fed. That is, keep throwing in more wood at right times. So, watch the fire and don’t walk away. Safety first, heat second.

That’s plenty of rules, all necessary. Billions of people came through the lands of the Earth making fire to keep themselves alive, warm, and fed and that’s how our civilizations kept intact. The fire making rules were, probably, the earliest that the humankind learned. They improved on it, but I doubt they changed a hell of a lot. Tending to fire works best at simple level. Most important things in life are, I think.

the image was copied from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egFm6MHLvYk, thank you.

P.S. If somehow this post made you feel like you’ve been read a lecture, and you didn’t appreciate it, just like I wouldn’t 15 years back, please follow the above link and enjoy the 12 hours of watching and listening to fire burning in safe environment.

Miracles of Blame

It is always someone else

There is always a stranger to pick on.

All is well in the pack

Until something out of the ordinary happens.

Sick babies used to be thrown off the cliff,

Crazies were banished off the land,

Or kept out of the village’s business.

These days it is not so different.

You are addicted to substance everybody knows is bad?

Your own fault, go and burn your mind ‘til there’s nothing left,

But don’t come close to my house.

You couldn’t handle life and tried to kill yourself?

It must be your weak nature, grow up already.

Crazies are still kept away, aren’t they?

Isolation and blame, however, never work well.

It only keeps the pain alive,

No one seems to think that this can happen to them as well.

the image was copied from https://www.gapminder.org/factfulness/blame/ thanks.

To Raise a Warrior

I went to a Viking Age society life exhibition at the local museum last month. I’m a Norse spirituality fan, so how I could I miss it? Beautiful exhibition, very well presented and explained. Besides the display of the artifacts excavated from the Norse soil, such as the swords, the ships, and the amulets, the museum provided a warrior battle presentation, played out by the Viking warrior and folk fans, travelling around the world. The brave folks dressed themselves in the Norse people garments and used the replica weapons to bring one another down in front of the packed auditorium, a crowd of which at least half were kids.

Each time a warrior fell in the one-on-one fight, the leader of the pack that explained the event to the audience, invited us to bring the dead fighter back to life. It was explained to the guests that the warriors who fought so brave must be on the way to Hall of Valour where they were so eager to go and party until the end of time. The only thing that could possibly bring them back to life is… well, party on earth. “Anybody knows what mead is?” the leader of the pack yelled into the crowd. “That’s right, Viking alcohol drink!” The crowd was then encouraged to yell “Mead! Mead! Mead!” to bring the soul of the dead fighter back to join the body so he could join the rank of the armed folks on stage. And so it went after each fight.

I thought it was fascinating, because the kids in the crowd, were brought to believe, for some odd reason, that an alcoholic beverage could bring one back to life from death. Yes, those are Vikings, to the majority they are all extinct for a thousand years except for TV series legacy. Yes, there is folklore, mythology, and other fun stuff to read about, and maybe forget in a month or so. Yet some stuff, especially fun stuff like that, it stays somewhere in the mind. What enters the mind acts out at some point, in ways we find unexpected and fascinating. How many future punters sat in that room? How many of them, like me, won’t be able to let go off booze easily in ten years?

Yes, me. I never heard of mead raising the dead, but I was actively addicted to alcohol for years, and without my version of mead, such as beer, I felt like a living dead. With it I was alive and could rage like a warrior running through enemy shores and their castle walls of the modern world, or at least I thought so. It made up fun reality for me. It was a kingdom of illusion I loved to keep alive for many years. It didn’t do me much good.

Blame on the Viking fans? No. that’s not what I write this for. This one is as usual for opening eyes. For thinking, while it’s still allowed to do so. The Gods brought us enlightenment for a reason.

the image was copied from https://royalalbertamuseum.ca/visit/galleries/feature-gallery/index.cfm and pillaged by me. thank you.

How to Read A Book

How do I read a book? From the beginning. One page at a time. While it goes fun, I don’t care for how many pages are left to go through. Then that may change, and I start looking at page numbers and count how many days it may take me to finish the book. Still, though, no matter how much I’m planning to read it, I don’t get to completing it unless I go one page at a time. If I cheat and skip parts, I miss something and then I find myself confused about things not making sense.

How do you walk a road toward a location? Not drive, or ride a bike, – walk? Hopefully, the way I do it. That is, one step at a time, putting one foot in front of the other. Watching your step is also highly recommended. I don’t remember if I was told how to read the book the right way, but I sure was told how to walk. It works well just the way I was told. I usually keep up a good stature and good pace, and hey, I get where I need to, even if the weather conditions aren’t as favorable as I may have wanted.

How do I live sober? Not how you live sober, or how you should live sober. That is none of my business. I have some ideas to share, though. Nothing crazy. It works just the same way as with reading a book and walking down the road. It even can be tightly related to those two. It is a one step at a time kind of a thing. Sometimes it is a foot, sometimes a couple inches. Sometimes it is a day, but in the beginning it is more of an hour. One in front of the other. When I went one step without booze a day it was easier to focus without too many thoughts, fears, and doubts attached. One step at a time, guarded by a “thank you” at wake-up time, and the other at bedtime. That’s what AA taught me. They taught me well. It works. Step by step progress may not seem like a good ride, but it is, because there are so many examples and metaphors I can find to put “one step at a time” path of living in front of you. That’s right, path of living, because everything that is to stand strong and last works that way.

the image was copied from http://entertainment.time.com/2012/06/06/a-book-lovers-guide-to-reading-and-walking-at-the-same-time/ modified by me for the sake of Saturday morning goofballingness. thank you.

factories of endless thought

There are lands unknown,

Places many wonder about.

In dark halls we deny we have,

There are kept the machines

That eternally run.

When all is sleep,

Theirs is the endless work.

Although their guards are on constant watch.

The precision of the production is questionable.

When a machine wears out

Hardly anyone pays attention.

In the concealed towns of the mind

Vulnerable faculties are at work.

S0me sc@ry sh*t

rabbit Broken glass shards flew around, sound ripping the ears, while the splintered wood pieces protruded from the window frame, promising a bad time. His face was red, and eyes were wild. He shook his fists toward the person behind the window. He was not who he was hours ago, but that happened to him often. Getting violent came from getting drunk on alcohol and that came from making a choice, but what an ill choice it was… because that’s what happened each time he drank – denial, anger, resistance, property damage and injuries.

That image is from a real life story. I’m sure many can see something familiar in it, and surely there are many other different stories relating to humans drinking in excess. There are people out there too who may not know what excess is. They just drink and a lot, and then shit happens. Some see that and stop drinking. Others don’t. I didn’t. Years after stopping drinking alcohol for good I still had many instances of facing what drinking alcohol does to people, coming face to face with these issues, mostly through work.

OK, that’s what happens to humans when they drink a lot. How about drinking effects on rabbits? Anthropomorphized rabbits? Roger Rabbit?!

Roger Rabbit drunk is an ugly thing to witness. Entertaining on the screen, but still ugly. The instantaneous reaction may be exaggerated in the reality of the motion picture, but the display of massive character change may be complete. Jackyl and Hyde effect is an old example, but it still works great to theorize how bad things can go and what can people (rabbits) do about that.

Why am I writing about it? Maybe because some of us need to remember not to drink, and human example, even their own, doesn’t work anymore. Maybe even their own examples are too ugly. So, think about Roger Rabbit having a drink in the bar and how ballistic he (it?) goes. It is not really a rabbit, you know? It is a caricature on us, humans. Let’s try to keep that image in our heads when time comes for responsible decisions 😊

the image was copied from https://www.cinemablend.com/new/Who-Framed-Roger-Rabbit-Gets-Digital-Restoration-25th-Anniversary-Screening-36149.html thanks.

Facehugger Rage

Whatever happens, it’s never my fault.

What you say to me is never sincere.

How ever you wear your language for me to understand,

I know you’re wrong and your speech is a lie.

I am a rebel for the sake of nothing but my gain of something

That would feed an illusion

Capable of calming the old pain of all kinds.

You’ve got my history written down in your books,

And you seem to think that I am up to no good at all times,

And you tell me that you do for me all you can do

But one thing you cannot give me is freedom.

What would I do with this freedom, you ask,

If I presumably received it?

I don’t know.

Probably shoot myself up with dope

Like all the other times,

The crash-and-burns, the last times,

I mean those times I swore up and down they will be last times.

I’d probably do something that would cause my leg to break at another spot,

Or dislocate another knee,

Steal stuff here, trash an apartment there.

You know how it works for me.

You know it, but I still don’t trust you.

My anger against you is really against me,

But I didn’t just say that.

My clawed fingers I hug my face with as I growl loudly

Is my rage facing me

For it knows my bullshit and it smells my fear.

My war against the world is my war against me

The war that I can never let go of,

For I have to fight something.

You and the rest of caregivers

Fall victim to these battles,

For I will never admit the truth.

All I believe (or make myself believe and pray to)

Is that I am surrounded by lies,

No matter what you tell me,

Pushing my wheelchair down the never-ending hallways.

the image was copied from https://aliens.fandom.com/wiki/Facehugger thanks.

What We Do They Do Not Know

No, we are not in a cult. No, it’s not a secret – our books are sold in the open and there is no password to get into a meeting. Yet there is a difference between us and them. Us, problem drinkers and them, non-drinkers and non-problem drinkers.

Nothing against them. In fact, good for them, in a way. They don’t know the problem we have. Constant temptations. Perpetually lost wars with mind and spirit. Repetitive hangovers, loss of relationship, job, home, self-esteem – and all of that because of compulsive alcohol drinking. They don’t know what the hell that is – I’m happy for them.

However, there is something else they may not know. It’s our coming to our senses and recovery through seeking and obtaining spiritual liberation. They may be in church or in pagan temple, and if so, again, good for them for having that support in their lives. Still, the way many of us, the problem drinkers, came to having support in our fellowship is one of a kind, to be shared by few.

Still, there are things that we do they don’t know, don’t understand, and sometimes don’t want to understand. I hear it from time to time that families and friends of recovered alcoholics don’t understand them anymore. It’s too weird to them. It’s too hard to accept that the change is finally happening to their loved ones, and yet with the lack of drinking they become someone else. Some families and friends don’t seem to be OK with accepting it. “To Wives” chapter was addressed to them. I hope they read it, despite the title that may smell of exclusion.

Things we do and we know are of benefit to us, whether we are understood by those outside our circle or not. Still though, I’m sure Twelve Steps fellowships will welcome them all if they come to realization one day that they have problem with substance abuse similar to ours.