Archive for the ‘Personal Thoughts’ Tag
I haven’t seen my daughter in over 6 weeks. It’s not for any malicious reason on my ex’s part. Not that I know of, at least. It’s just bad timing and busy lives.
I always told myself I would always make time for my daughter. I would threaten to quit jobs before I would miss my weekends with her. I still feel that way. At least I feel I do. But feelings and thoughts don’t count for much. In the end, I still don’t see my daughter. If I had to say it to her face, would I still make the same excuses? Would she care?
Or does it just matter that daddy isn’t there again?
I don’t even know why I’m writing this right now. I’m not depressed, just sad. I guess its because this is something more concrete than a journal I throw in a box and never look at again. By writing this, maybe I’ll try harder from now on. But who knows?
– Shaman
I just did a Facebook purge. I went through my list, and really thought hard about who I actually cared about, and who cared about me. It brought back memories. Of times where these people made me smile. Times where they comforted me. Times where we laughed, times where we talked; meals, movies, and parties.
But I don’t do that anymore. Not with them. I didn’t think it’d make me sad. Many of them were strangers to me now. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t even notice me if I passed them on the street. Some of them I didn’t talk to any more for a reason. A bad break up, or a mutual connection severed our connection. Some were withered connections; people that I always meant to check up on. But I couldn’t find the time to do that between video games and stuffing my face.
My birthday was last month. I only had 3 friends show up. They are really close friends who I love very dearly, and I truly enjoyed the company. But it made me realize how isolated I am. My friend was putting the dinner together, and she tried to contact people. But there wasn’t anyone to reach out to. The few she tried either didn’t care, or were those withered connections, angry at how I never talked to them.
Friendships are plants. Some are cacti, only needing little bit of water to grow. Others are crops, needing tons of work to foster a bountiful harvest. All are beautiful. All need nourishment. Other wise, they dry up, and turn to dust. If you neglect the garden too long, you are left with a pile of dirt and nothing to show for it.
I understand life is a journey, and people will drop in and out of that journey. Just like love, you either grow apart or one of you dies. I shouldn’t be surprised. When I think rationally, I know they weren’t friends anymore. They were bittersweet memories I would view as I scroll through Facebook. They were just ghosts of my garden. Now that they are clear, maybe I can get to adding new plants.
But not today. I don’t feel particularly optimistic. So I’ll sit in the dark, and mourn over the husks.
– Shaman
P.S: I know things have been sparse lately, I’ve been going back to school and it eats up my time. But I have been writing a lot in my classes, and hope to share it when I have the time.
I think I’m funny
But I know that I’m not that funny
At the best I’m kind of punny
But mostly I’m punishing the people
Around me who have to hear another attempt
At me trying to tempt them to like me
For more than just the jokes that I say.
I’m keep on praying that my prey
Won’t run away from the mask of a clown
I wear when I try to make new friends.
I can’t show them the lone kid crying in his room.
Performing illusions for the illusions
He made up to make himself feel wanted.
All I’ve wanted was to make others happy.
I want to make others smile.
To make them forget all their problems for a little while.
But its not my style to be entertaining.
So I end up complaining to the echos
Alone in my room.
Alone with my thoughts,
Alone in my tomb.
I brought it up
‘Cause it bothers me too
I didn’t mean
To bother you
So I’ll shut up
Like I usually do
And talk about the weather.
– Shaman Romney 2017
My poetry
Is me knowing me,
Or me blowing me;
I haven’t decided yet.
– Shaman Romney 2017
A couple of weeks ago, I got fed up with Facebook. I never really engaged in the social aspect of social networking. I mostly just used it to stalk old friends and crushes, watch people yell at each other, read funny memes from George Takei, and overall waste time not doing the things I should be doing. In addition to it being a colossal time waster, I found it was making me more and more depressed. I’d get to see high school friends getting nice jobs, buying homes, having kids, getting married, living life to the fullest, having all sorts of awesome adventures, etc. Doing everything I wish I could do if I wasn’t too busy dicking around on Facebook.
So, in a bout of lucid self loathing, I said, “To hell with this! A pox on thee, Facebook, and thy creator, Zuckerberg too!” Well, I said that in some universe, at least in my head. But, I did go and deactivate my Facebook, deciding that I needed a break from it. That was about two weeks ago.
I don’t really miss it all that much. I tend to keep in touch with the people I actually care about, as they are the ones who bother to text me and actively attempt to see me. They actually try to be real friends, perish the thought. I don’t really miss out on current events, political debates, or funny memes. I have other websites for that, and although they can be a bit of a time sink as well they don’t drop my mood or trap me in some stupid little skinner box.
I don’t say this to admonish people who do enjoy Facebook. It can be great for keeping in touch with friends, reconnecting, and sharing your life with others. I know both my parents have used it to get in touch with old friends and distant family, and my dad posts pictures from his garden all the time. People use it to arrange hangouts and catalog their fun times with each other. It has its uses, but I wasn’t making use of them.I was using it in all the bad ways, and making bad habits. So I think it was good move to give it the axe.
Yes, yes, I know, Random-Meme-I-Pulled-From-Google. I’m not saying I am done for good. I know eventually I will get sucked back in and reactivate my profile. But I think it will be later rather than sooner. You know why I think that?
Because I already did it. I got curious and I wanted to see what happened in my two-week long absence. So I signed back in while I was at lunch. I had a few missed notifications, but mostly it was just filled with the same inane bull that I hated and was trying to ignore in the first place. People posting drama statuses. People praising Hillary/Trump as the second coming of Jesus. George Takei posting a cat pic. All of the time-wasting goodness I used to eat up like it was my last meal.
Did I get sucked in? For about 5 minutes. Then it hit me: I really didn’t care. It isn’t worth my time or brain power. So, I disabled it again. Maybe this time it’ll be for two months. Maybe even two years. By that time, who even knows if Facebook will even be the big thing any more? It may totally be some twitter Snapchat amalgam that provides even less thought and more cats. (It’s the internet, it’s always more cats.)
Either way, I think I am going to steer clear of it, and actually enjoy going outside and living life playing video games and watching YouTube. You know, the important things in life.
Thank you for reading :),
Shaman
My friends and I have started a writing group. They all want to improve as writers, and I want to try and start writing fiction stories. I have a lot of cool ideas, and I think it would be better if they are out in the world instead of gathering dust in the back of my brain. Ideas have always been easy for me, the hard part is actually writing the story.
How does someone even write fiction? Do you just make stuff up?
I used to know how when I was younger. I could sit down and write pages of fiction without any effort. The characters, plot, and everything else about them sucked. But at least I could write it. Now I find myself staring at the keyboard, its QWERTYs, ASDFs, and WASDs burning my soul with their judging mocking gaze.
If you ask me to create a character for Dungeons and Dragons, or any other RPG? I’ll not only make a mechanically unique and effective character, but I will build him a detailed backstory with family records, milestones, mannerisms, etc. But I cant turn it into any sort of narrative story.
Ask me to write a blog post? I can put down 500 to 1000 words on a topic in an hour, 3 if I need to revise/make it sound good. It’s not hard for me to put my thoughts down, as I write the way I think and speak. But fiction means I have to put myself in someone else’s head, and I don’t know how to do that.
So when you tell me to sit down and write a fiction story? You might as well tell me to win the lottery or grow wings and fly.
I know a large part of it is a lack of experience. You don’t go into the gym and start benching 200 lbs if the last time you did 100 lbs was in high school. That is a good way to injure yourself. I can’t jump into a chihuahua crushing epic fantasy novel without tearing my corpus callosum either.
However, I have no idea where to even start. I have all of these ideas buzzing in my head: cool scenes straight out of a move, a Silmarillion’s worth of world building, and a somewhat unique magic system. I’m an avid reader of both too many books and too much TVTropes. What else would I need? Actual talent?
It’s like I have a fresh batch of ingredients and a full purpose kitchen, but I only know how to make a grilled cheese. I’m just the wordsmith equivalent of a line cook who has been asked to make whatever he thinks would impress the food critic. I hope he likes Kraft singles and white bread.
The point of this post was to state I may also start posting short stories here, in addition to rants both political and personal, and my poetry. Just like with Politalking, I am going to try and keep things labelled, so that those of you who check my blog out for the poetry alone can skip it if you want.
Time for me to drop down and give 20 paragraphs. Wish me luck!
-Shaman
“I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory”
That line resonates with me.
Does is symbolize my life’s futility?
Or does the specter of death drive a person to their destiny?
I’ll never make history
I won’t be on money, the worlds already forgotten me
Even though I show a certain proclivity
All I see is dust on my skills, my talents, on me.
Do I resign to be abandoned, alone?
Give up on life, be shut in at home?
Neglect the skills I’ve taken years to hone
Until I wither to dust and bone?
No! I’ve decided I’m going to take my shot.
Insecurities, fears; yeah I have a lot.
But even if I miss, and get forgotten
It better than letting it all turn rotten
I don’t want to quit, I want to keep trying
and get busy living, but there’s no denying
that I think way too much about dying
But I think that hides my underlying
Will to survive
My will to thrive
My fitful drive
to stay alive.
– Shaman Romney 2016
P.S: Listening to too much Hamilton? No such thing. 🙂
I am the architect
Of my own destruction.
Because,
When you boil it down,
All that is left is this reduction
Of bad decisions,
Squandered opportunities
And misplaced bets.
Of victories never tasted,
A lifetime of regrets.
Above it all is me,
Holding the spoon,
Stirring the pot.
This recipe tastes horrible,
But its the only one I’ve got.
So I keep trying to make it better
Mixing in more spices.
Alcohol, Cigarettes,
Self harm, and other vices.
No matter what I try,
This awful taste
Just tastes the same.
This bitter acrid varnish
That is the flavor of my shame.
Maybe I should quit,
Throw the whole mess out.
Get rid of all these things
That seem to fill my heart with doubt.
But no I think I like it,
This strange acquired taste.
Throwing all this out would be
Such a waste.
Sure, it tastes awful,
But at least its uniquely mine.
And at the end of the day
That makes it fine.
-Shaman Romney 2015
Prompting you to take action!
The internet has recently been swept up by the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. Is there a cause — social, political, cultural, or other — you passionately believe in? Tell us how you got involved — or why you don’t get involved.
I talk about a lot of causes.
I’ve definitely covered atheism on this blog, and will probably do so in the future.
I also have strong opinions on a lot sociopolitical issues – gay marriage, equality, education, welfare, etc. – and at some point I may talk about them here too. But although I may feel passionate about those subjects, I tend to abstain from bringing them into the public square.
Politics turns into loud screaming match that gets us nowhere and doesn’t really solve anything. Were the political climate less confrontational, I might be more inclined to wade into the discussion. I also don’t really mind other people’s beliefs, and only when they are thrust upon me. Plus, we have enough irreligious warriors in the Amazing Atheist, Richard Dawkins, Jaclyn Glenn, etc., and I think they are doing a good enough job on their own.
I am also a hardcore skeptic, and I feel that debunking false claims, pseudoscience, and other sorts of woo is extremely important. But I don’t really passionately charge at people doing those things. I’m more like a sleeping volcano, who gets prodded by these things and ends up blowing up at the triggering person in a pyroclastic flow of logic and science.
That is assuming I even care at the moment.
Most strangers can believe in their crystals, homeopathy, and the like. I only really speak out when I see family and friends buying into stuff like that. So even though I feel passionate about this also, I don’t jump up and actively work against it.
There is one thing I’ve been involved in, and I still feel passionately about: Father’s rights.
I got involved in the father’s rights movement because I was a single father who was trying to establish my paternity (my ex actually wanted me to leave, since I didn’t want to be with her. She wanted to keep me off of it so her eventual husband could take my place and adopt uncontested) and gain the ability to see my daughter. I, like many other men, was put through the ringer, and I didn’t even deal directly with the courts.
I was barred from the hospital after my daughter was born, because I had the audacity to ask what steps I needed to take to be put on the birth certificate. Then, while trying to avoid court, I was forced to jump through hoops while I tried to get whatever time with her I could, which was a slowly dwindling amount. This was all because my only option was court, even if they were fully cooperative.
When I finally got sick of the run around, and asked them directly to let me put my name on the birth certificate, I was threatened with never seeing my daughter again.
I decided to petition for paternity, and didn’t see my daughter for 4 months as a result. Instead, she got to call another man dad, and I had to shell out for a lawyer. Then I had to go to mediation, take a paternity class, do a trial/integration period, give an arm and a leg, make a blood sacrifice to Cthulhu, and other legal mumbo jumbo. Eventually, all that got me basic visitation, monthly child support, and one year’s worth of arrears owed (almost 3000.) According to my lawyer, all of that was an incredible deal, and I was lucky to get it.
That was the part that I couldn’t take.
The fact that I got the bare minimum required by law, and was lucky for it, was infuriating.
Then I looked at all the other stories, all the other things people went through, and it made me even madder.
The system is corrupt, and is mired in misguided sexism for both genders. According to the courts, women are weak mothers who never want to work again and need to be protected from the evil men. The men should be reduced to nothing more than walking wallets to bleed dry, because they must all be deadbeats, even the ones who petition and fight for their children.
Things in Utah are improving slowly, especially in public awareness. But the laws have yet to really change. I heard there was a committee or something working on it, so it will still probably be a while before they do. I only hope that they change while I can still benefit from them with my daughter.
But why am I not still involved with father’s rights?
The reason is a little selfish: it’s because I don’t need to fight any more.
I have time with my daughter and an amicable relationship with my ex. I am also not in a position to gain much more, and I could (and probably would) lose a lot by trying. So for now I am happy to sit back and take a passive role trying to spread awareness to those who want to listen. That will probably change in the future, but for now I’m enjoying the thing other people fight so hard for.
I am enjoying time with my family. That is a cause worth fighting for.
-Shaman
Shame on The Universe 