Well, I went to see the final LOTR movie. All I have to say is….

      Meh.

I wasn’t all that impressed. Yeah, it’s cool, they finally did it, but aside from all the gratuitous violence, the ending was a let down. They changed it too much.  And what was with that whole scene when Frodo finally woke up and everyone was laughing? Someone pumping a bit of the ol’ Nitrous Oxide into the room or what? Man, I’ve never seen such fakey laughter.

Gah, and I thought the movie ended like three times. If “the end” hadn’t finally come up on the screen, I’d probably still be sitting there.

OK, a few things I’d heard and read before finally seeing the movie probably ruined my enjoyment just a bit. For instance, the whole homosexual hobbits thing. Forgive me, I just didn’t see it. OK, they were just really affectionate little fellows. If I’m wrong, it’s still none of my business what hobbits do when they’re off alone and no humans, elves, or wizards are about. ‘Nuff said.

The other thing that irked me before I even got to see the movie was this news article by some “critics” who intimated that the whole battle was not a good vs evil thing but a racist thing. OK, I didn’t see that either. I mean, the one guy on the “Oliphant” even looked British to me (all painted up like the flag).

Leave it to “critics” to turn a battle-royale fantasy into racist propaganda. Dumb-asses.

In other news, I finally found a cthulu smilie! Glee!  It only took me a year. Isn’t he cute. :: wriggle wriggle wriggle :: It’s not the one I initially fell in love with, but since that one’s lost to the internet gremlins, I suppose this one is a good stand in. You know I have a Mythos webcomic, I should have a Cthuloid Smilie!

In other, other news, I forgot to post last week’s Ancient Whispers Newsletter, but I’m not forgetting this week…

SilverRavenKat raised an interesting question in her comment on yesterday’s post. (BTW, Happy b-day Kat!)

She said, “Why is it that so many people do go through some ‘suicide phase’? Is this a part of our dark night of the soul that eventually illuminates some aspect of life’s journey? Some people are successful with the suicide and others choose not to take the path. I use “successful” only to mean that the thought process lead to the actual act.”

Why do so many go through such a phase? There may be a variety of contributing factors but much of it among children/teens can be attributed to one phenomena.

Some people accept everything that comes their way, accept everything the “authorities” tell them as truth. They never question and so are never bothered by the lies and inequities we all face everyday. From a very young age, we are told that the world works in one way. But as we grow older, we observe that it does not in fact work as we have been told. The stronger our sense of right and wrong, the more this realization will affect us.

Some people shrug and go about their business and some embrace the lies and become part of what is wrong with the world. Some people, the ones who become suicidal, cannot accept the world as it has been revealed to them.

There is no argument that the type of children being incarnated today is different than the kind being born fifty or sixty years ago. No matter what they are called -Starseeds, Starpeople, Walk-ins, Lightworkers, Indigo Children, Otherkin , etc- there are more of them today than there has been in the past.

I did a search and found this article for you all in addition to the one I linked the Otherkin to. There’s a pretty good chance I fit into this group somewhere. Eleven of the thirteen physical characteristics listed for Starseeds apply to me. A lot of the qualities described in the Otherkin article also applies to me. Read the articles and you may find out you’re in there too. I’d go into more detail about my own characteristics, but I already make these humungous posts. I don’t want to bore you all with the details. Maybe I’ll post more on the subject tomorrow.

Suffice it to say, these are the type of people who are most prone to suicide. They are more sensative, more perceptive, and more easily injured by the injustices and lies told daily by the people who run the world. Because the younger generations are made up of these incarnations, suicides among children and teens has been steadily rising for as many years as the number of their type of births have been rising.

They have other motivations than money or popularity and so they don’t fit into regular society. Those that survive (that don’t commit suicide) become embittered and may acquire escapist addictions. I don’t do drugs or drink, but you can’t describe my reading, writing, or internet usage as anything other than an escapist addiction.

Those who attempt suicide are simply not prepared to deal with the world as it is. Unless they find a reason to continue or some kind of motivation, they usually succeed in killing themselves. Death is the ultimate escape from life. Some of us just cope by seeking the little escapes.

Hmmm, I kind of feel like this is my autobiography, and I only write current events to support occassional insightful flashbacks.

Which brings me back around to my last few posts…

I said my anger at the way I had been mistreated and snubbed by my peers sustained me through my suicidal phase. That’s basically true, but eventually I had to find something else to motivate me. I mean, if you’re angry all the time, people seem to think you’re a bitch or something. heh

I am tempted to say… and lo’ it came to pass… but what am I? Some kind of New Age messianic cultist? hah Like I’d want that responsibility, but listen to this anyway.

I’ve mentioned my past life memories. They’re one of the reasons I’m really not afraid to die. Sure it’s a painful process, but it’s not a scary one. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done it before.

But in thinking about my abilities and my past life memories, I had to come up with a reason why I should continue. Even with my low-key superiority complex (self-diagnosed), that didn’t give me much reason to continue once my righteous indignation over my rotted childhood faded a little.

I mean, all my anger, intelligence, ability, and self-righteous anger could lead me toward was world domination. Borrrrrrrrrrrring. I’d rather have people do my will out of respect, not fear. I think trying to run a world that hates you would be like trying to control a kindgarden class of 6 billion. Not fun. Not that I didn’t go through a phase where I thought it might be nice to have everyone doing things my way… too many cartoons when I was a kid (hmmm, I always did identify more with Cobra than GI Joe heh).

But I am really rambling here…

The sole reason we have to exist is to learn, to experience. Why else would reincarnation exist. Oh, well some will say it’s to reach nirvana or because of karma. I don’t think of reincarnation or final death (as opposed to temporary death) as a reward. You always have the option to come back even if people would consider you “perfect.” That’s the whole Bodhisattva deal.

Anyway, when you die, you become changeless. The only way for change to occur is by living. We live to change, though many close-minded individuals seem incapable of it. When you’re dead, you don’t really change. You can still affect things and learn, but it’s not the same. There’s no synthesis of ideas, no creation or adaptation. There’s no challenge or growth in being dead. That should be apparent. Death is nearly the antithesis of growth, or at least it bars growth in one direction. Only in living and responding to stimuli do you actually change and grow.

When you die, growth in that direction is cut off. You have no choice but to become a seed again.

There’s lots of talk about “going into the light” and meeting people you’ve known in life. I guess that happens to some extent, but if all your loved ones have already been reborn, you’re not going to have much of a welcoming committee. It’s pretty lonely and boring. (My grandfather died and was brought back by doctors. He never saw anything in dying and became an atheist for another year before he died again.)

Some people don’t even wait around to be born again, unless they need time to recover from a particularly traumatic life. I’ve had three different lives (including this one) in the last 100 years, as opposed to the other eight lives spread out over the last couple thousand years. Of course, there could still be many in there that I haven’t remembered yet.

This epiphany on the nature of existence was and is my second reason for not committing suicide. Life is “where it’s at.” As they say -I’ll rest when I’m dead. That’s why I always seem to be doing or planning to do ten things at once. I have a lot to get done before I die again. Not that there’s any ultimate goal in getting all these things I plan done, but knowing that life is about experience and learning gives living a purpose. Even the bad things in life give us the opportunity to change and grow.

Yay, Christmas is over. No more Christmas posts. woooooooh

oh, er, wait, well darn. I just blew it eh?

Annnnyway…

I’m not the only one. I’d like to say there are no posts of substance right now on Xanga. That would be a lie of course, because I just found a new blog to subscribe to this morning, but only one on a ring called “Government Lies.” I’m sure there are more good blogs out there; the problem is finding them. None of the other blogs in the ring seemed interesting… or even on topic.

Is this a rant? Well, slightly. It sucks to find a fascinatingly titled blog-ring and find nothing but crap in it. Where are all the GOOD posts? Where are all the on-topic posts? Why join a blog-ring titled Bookworms (for instance) if all you talk about about on your site are past relationships and bubble-gum bands (ie Britney Spears, BackStreet Boys, and all the other blah-garbage). Shouldn’t you be talking about the most recent book you’ve read? Come on people, focus here.

Gah, my brain is melting with intellectual disgust. Maybe all the quality bloggers are just incommunicado for the holidays… missing their superior school internet connection or too busy with family, friends, and new toys to post stimulating entries to their Xangas.

Please no more lists of gifts received. I am happy to report for the most part, I received money. I suppose I will be buying my own presents. heh If that bookworm ring had turned out to actually have any book posts, I might have even joined it with all the books I plan to buy.

I propose an intellectual holiday where people only exchange books, gift certificates to bookstores, and other mentally stimulating gifts. If we can have holidays that appeal to the lowest common denomenators, then why not also the best of us? We’ll call it… I don’t know… um, Book Day? Nah! lol

But wouldn’t it be great? Mmmm, I know! Let’s call it Mensa-mas. heheheh

I am so tired. By the time I got out of work last night, my legs were cramping up from running around so much, and I think I am getting sick for the holiday. I was coughing all last night and spitting up mucus. I fell asleep some time after 1, after I finally got up and found a N’ice lozenge. Yeah, I could have choked in my sleep, but at that point I didn’t care.

I must have managed some continuous sleep time because I dreamed the publisher I sent my short story out to finally emailed me back and told me my story was very well written. Then he proceded to pick it apart and tell me why it sucked. Thanks Mr Subconscious.

I feel like Rodney Dangerfield… I don’t even get any respect in my sleep.

I want to email him and ask about my story, but it’s been (just) less than a month and I don’t want to be a pest.

Then the neighbor kids went thundering up and down the stairs around 6. So I’m sitting here after a shower, breakfast and zinc lozenges and while waiting to leave for my Gramma’s, nodding out in front of the computer blogging, reading my email, and reading my webcomics. Oh, and listening to the Beatles White Album (Thankie mommy). If only my throat wasn’t too sore and my voice too scratchy to sing along.

Well, I am nothing of not a multi-tasker, even sick.

:: Yawn ::

When I was in highschool, I wanted to kill myself. I really believed it was the only way to stop the pain. Sometimes I still get like that.

Apparently it’s a family trait. My sister is like that and my mother, even my great grandmother was like that. I don’t know about my grandmother. She’s too loopy to get into that kind of mood I think. But I digress.

I suppose everyone has their reasons, or rather different sources of pain. Usually we blame it on others. Constantly seeking validation for our own way of life by seeking ourselves in others.

That’s the whole controversy with conformity and non-conformity. People are constantly seeking, especially when they are young, to validate themselves by their level of conformity to their peers. The more “normal” you are, the more accepted you are, whether you are a normal goth or a normal jock, etc.

But if you’re not normal to begin with, it makes it all worse.

This is something no one knows. When I was in highschool, I wanted to kill myself. I’m an empath. Even when the other students weren’t picking at me verbally or physically, I could still feel their rejection and derision. It was a crushing, cloying weight that dragged me down into darkness like a weight around my neck. I was sick a lot when I was in school. I missed at least one day of school every week. Headaches, stomach trouble… I don’t get sick nearly so much any more.

It all came to a head when I was sixteen. You give yourself these little tests. You say if this happens, then I’ll do that. When I was sixteen, I decided if no one responded to my plea for help, I’d kill myself and no one would have to be offended by my differently wired self any more.

There was a locker for a “peer support” group. People would put their note in the slot and a day or so later, someone would call them out of class to talk. I put in a note one day, a very suicidal note. A day passed, and another. By Wednesday, I decided I’d kill myself on the weekend if no one tried to approach me. The whole week passed, and no one got back to me in that entire time. And then the weekend came.

That was really the turning point. Instead of following through on my decision, I went in the opposite direction. I was completely pissed. How dare they make me feel like nothing. I was better than them. I was better than all of them.

Please understand, this wasn’t arrogance. According to my IQ tests, I’m way above normal. Yet the school never let me into the gifted classes. They had classes for “special” students, but nothing for the gifted. I am a talented writer and artist (others have agreed on that point). Then there’s my “psychic” gifts -not just empathy, but occassional clairvoyance, clairaudience, and telethesia.

A week passed and no one cared if I was going to kill myself. All these stupid, uninterested, untalented people didn’t care if I died. How dare they.

By the time the weekend was over, I’d mastered my depression. Three more days passed, but I had this shell now. I was going to live just to spite the bastards that had made my life such a living hell.

Wednesday of the following week, a teacher approached me in the caf. He was very concerned about my note. He’d been on vacation the previous week and the students he’d put in charge hadn’t checked the locker.

No, I was fine, I told him. I was calm and cool, indifferent really. It wasn’t his fault exactly, though he carried a little blame. I mean, he’d been back three days. But really, I didn’t care what he was feeling -guilt for getting the note so late, irritated with the students who were supposed to check it, false concern and worry that if I had killed myself, he and the school could have been held accountable.

What did it matter to me, the petty concerns of one more of the psychically retarded plebians I had to deal with in the world.

Yeah, ok, at that time I was just a smidge arrogant about the whole superiority thing. But it was the only attitude that allowed me to ride the depression through to ultimate triumph. It was my hate and anger and sense of superiority that saw me through.

I quit school when I turned 17. They made me wait till Monday because my b-day fell on the weekend, but I quit and returned my books to each class. One of the worst of my abusive peers asked why I was quitting as I returned my books in health. He and many others were quite shocked. I told him it was because of people like him. Of course the teacher didn’t like that, and it embarassed my pursecutors. I didn’t care. I was finally free.

I got my GED ahead of my class and attended the community college. It’s all I could afford. They don’t like to give scholarships to drop outs. Ultimately obtaining my Assoc. in Liberal Arts was a waste of time, but I like learning so what do I care. And since I’ve gotten older, I’ve met other people like myself, and other people even stranger than myself, all of whom I like just fine for being different.

My point with this story is that if you are considering suicide. Live to spite the people who make you feel bad. They’re not worth your life. You want to die because they’re not as good as you, and the world’s not good enough for you. You’re better than them, and they can’t stand it so they make you feel like crap with their words and actions.

You don’t need other people to validate your existence. You’re perfect just being who you are. You make the world better by staying in it.

I just had a thought… uhumph, this is what happens on four hours sleep. I got up at 7. I would have slept later but my dummy neighbor decides to work on his house at the stupidest times.

Mankind hasn’t physically changed in thousands of years. We haven’t evolved. If the next big change comes, and mankind can’t adapt… that is, if a cataclysmic change occurs and we can’t change to survive, we could technically be considered an evolutionary dead end. On the other hand, we’re perfect as we are because we fit our niche so well.

Funny how perfection equals stagnation and death. It is only in striving for perfection that we experience growth.

In other words, the journey is more important than the destination.

Anyway…

Many of us are obsessed with either being individuals or conformists. Conformists obviously want to be the same as everyone else so as to be accepted and non-obtrusive. Individuals vary in their degrees of nonconformity, but a true individual has no real desire to be conformist.

Now, going with the ideas of evolution, which group do you think is ideally suited to make the next leap in adaptation if there is such an evolutionary chasm to leap? The conformists are like the lemmings which still make their migratory leap from a cliff because there is no longer a landmass for them to migrate to. Individuals might have a little edge, but being individuals, they won’t necessarily band together for mutual benefit.

**

Also along the lines of evolution… I was think of ideas in terms of biology. They seem to change and adapt to groups of people and times like living creatures. Perhaps if we ourselves all become extinct, our ideas might live on as evolutionary descendents of a sort. That is, if some other race arrives/evolves to take our place and discovers our words/cultural achievements before they turn to dust.

***

I think they’ve stopped working next door for lunch. I’m going to go try to take a nap. I’ll probably wake up later, look at this entry, and want to smack myself.

Well, happy belated Yule everyone. Between making carrot cake, reading my email and daily comics yesterday, and posting a few comments to other folks blogs (including the heat miser/snow miser song to Joyous‘ Xanga), I didn’t have time to post to mine before I had to leave for work. Ick, I hate 1-12 shifts. Spare me from anything over ten hours at a time. My poor feet and legs. I’ll tell you… my legs were so tired from standing so long my poor butt was cramping up. No lie! lol

I had a very, um, sappy dream Saturday night. First of all, I collect comics and have since I was 11, so it should come as no surprise to people that I have X-men in my dreams. Yeah, fighting Magneto and everything. heh

In my dream, Magneto stole the holiday mail and we (Xmen in training) had to get it back so everyone could get their season’s greeting. OK, er, that was the dream. It was a lot more detailed than that, but that was the gist of it. Sappy, right? lol

Oh, we got everyone’s mail back. Happy holidays. heh

Now I must go on over to Kat‘s Xanga and answer her mistletoe trivia question…

Oh gawwwwwwwwwwwds, I just hocked up a wad of thick, bloody mucus the size of my thumb. (And writing that, I’ll probably never have anyone read my blog again but I had to share. heh) Either my sinuses were bleeding yesterday while I was sick or my throat was. Either one would explain my headache, sore throat, and stomach ache. Why? Well, yeah see boys and ghouls, blood’s an emetic and irritant. In other words, swallow enough and you’ll throw up.

I feel 100% better though, thanks for asking. Ugh, I hate being sick. It’s such a waste of time. Plus, the Nyquil makes me sleep so heavily I don’t have any dreams. On the other hand, I feel more rested than I have in months.

In other news, I promised to make Leprecaun Fudge for work tomorrow and now I can’t find my recipe! Wah  

They may have to settle for carrot cake. Least that way I can have some too. (I’m allergic to chocolate as I think I have stated before.)

I was so sick today. I didn’t throw up or anything though my stomach was erky, and it wasn’t a cold though my throat is pretty sore. I just felt like crap, and I slept most of the day. I hope I can sleep tonight.

I didn’t even have the strength to read or draw! I couldn’t watch tv or work on the computer either. I couldn’t do anything at all.

I hate being unproductive. I hate calling into work. I know other people do it and then we have to cover for them, but I hate others having to cover for me.

Darn Flu…