Raiden's thoughts about stuff and things

[Raiden]

So I'm having another bash at this journal-composing business. I think I started one years ago, but swiftly gave up on the idea and pruned it from the forums, back in the days when one could do that. Maybe not being able to whimsically delete my own posts will mean that this might actually amount to something, this time. We'll see.

 

The idea is for me to write down random thoughts about things that aren't topically meaty enough, or important enough to make separate threads out of, but too wordy a cogitation for one of those "What are you thinking about?" threads in Off Topic. So I'm going to begin this journal by complaining about all the "small" things that are going on in my life right now

 

 

The government demands that I undergo periodic assessments at my local Jobcentre branch, in order to continue to qualify for the benefits I'm receiving. I attended the first one earlier this year. I tried to get out of it, being an agoraphobic and stating this as my reason for not wanting to attend, but my efforts were fruitless. Either I go to these pointless assessments, or I get no money. The woman I spoke to was congenial enough, but the whole experience was uncomfortable to say the least. Not looking forward to the next one, next month.

 

The DVLA also demands that I renew my driver's license, if I wish to drive anymore. Unfortunately, this involves having a new photograph taken in one of those horrible little photo booths at the Post Office. I loathe my appearance, I loathe having my photograph taken. I loathe going outside, just to make this clear. Why can't I just use the same photograph I had taken 10 years ago? It's not like I've undergone extensive cosmetic surgery since then. I still look just as ugly as I did when I was 20.

 

The stern-looking letter I received from the DVLA was poorly-timed, as I've recently spent several hundred pounds on getting my car fixed. Had I known I was going to be put through this trauma, I would have just sold my car to the scrap heap and been done with driving altogether. The loss of £320 is not a petty one, for me.

 

Why can't the government and the law just leave me the **** alone? I am not a criminal. I am not cheating the system. I am... unfit. Unfit for work, life and stuff. Just give me my measly benefits every fortnight, and let me drive my crappy Peugeot 106 a mile or so to the shop every once in a while without making me suffer for it.

 

Oh, one more thing. I need a haircut. I hate getting my hair cut with every fiber of my being. At least the House of Commons isn't dictating what I should do with my appearance - I should count my blessings, I suppose. But I wish I had that kind of hair which I could grow down to my nipples, without looking absurd.

[Raiden]

It takes so very little to make me feel insecure about myself.

 

....By this, I mean, even less secure about myself than I normally am.

 

I don't like thinking of myself as competitive, but somehow, competition is everywhere and it forces itself upon me. I can't do anything without being reminded of how much of a failure I am. Can't I just feel good or semi-good about being me for one day? Is this such an unreasonable request?

[Raiden]

If I was unable to lift up pieces of wrought iron and put them back down again, I think I literally wouldn't be able to take it anymore. Workouts are the only relief I have from all of this crap, albeit a fleeting distraction. Maybe I should start injecting myself with artificial testosterone so I can work out for 5 hours a day without fear of over-training. I'd take acne and all of the other side effects and hazards of steroids over this. But I can't even afford them, so that's that.

 

My friend's dad's funeral is today. I'm unable to attend. I've expressed my condolences, told him I'm here if he needs anything, but there's a kind of awkward unspoken 'understanding' that I'm unable to attend without me having to tell him so.

 

I've known this guy for 20 years, yet I've never even met his dad. Never even seen a photograph. It's not like he won't be surrounded by family and other friends, either... but all of this is besides the point. I should be there. It's the done thing.

[Raiden]

I used to be able to make others laugh. Now I can't even do that.

 

I haven't lost my sense of humour, because I still sense when something is funny, and laugh with/at it. But I've lost... something.

[Raiden]

"Why are you not on medication?"

 

People have asked me this ad nauseum. I never have a straightforward answer for them, because it's a deviously complex question.

 

In the simplest terms possible, I don't like the idea of living in a fool's paradise. I don't want to feel better about myself because of some chemicals being absorbed by my bloodstream which affect various functions of my brain. I want to wake up in the morning and feel good about myself by default. Booze gives me a similarly false sense of security, making me feel happy and confident and whatnot, but I don't hear anyone recommending the regular partaking of inebriating beverages.

 

On internet forums and in general conversation, this reason might suffice. But it doesn't seem to wash with the people who are in charge of my benefits. In their view, if I say I'm mentally ill then I must be taking some pills for it - and if I'm not taking medication, then I'm obviously not ill.

 

Make of this what you will. But I'm not going to spend time lamenting the absence of wit and perception in the world.

[Raiden]

One more outpouring for today, but one that's of a somewhat lighter tone

 

In a forest somewhere, there's a rotting old tree which falls over of its own accord. No one and nothing is within earshot, and the sound made by many tons of bark and foliage collapsing to the ground goes unheard.

 

What sound does it make?

 

 

 

 

Think about it. It's a deceptively difficult question to answer. Anyone who watches QI might know where I got this idea from, but it's still interesting to think about.

[Raiden]

Why can't people do their job properly? Why can't businesses be reliable?

[Raiden]

The insensitive, ignorant, myopic, belligerent and crass a-hole in me wants to retort with "Get over it" whenever I read certain posts. Dating problems? Try being 30 and never having been on a date. Failed or failing relationships? Try no relationship ever. Crap sex? Try no sex, ever. Shyness and awkwardness? Try agoraphobia.

 

Then I remind myself that all of my outpourings - even the most contemplative ones - could be viewed in the same light, and the severity of a grievance is all relative to the individual. And I do sympathize with others, and I do have the capacity to look at the world from a different perspective. But sometimes, on my bad days, it's hard to keep my mouth shut (or should I say, fingers away from the keyboard).

[happy_snapper]

Ha, tell me about it.

[Raiden]

Ha, tell me about it.

Which part? I've moaned about all kinds of stuff

[happy_snapper]

We're like a pair of old men, sat on a park bench grumbling about the world.

[Raiden]

The maelstrom has quietened.

 

One thing down, two more to go. Soon I'll only have my bigger problems to worry about. Hopefully.

 

I'm not happy with my haircut. This upsets me. But... it's only hair and it will grow out again, blah blah et cetera. I suppose it's also my own fault for going to a £6 barber. But it's a quiet and inconspicuous little place - exactly the kind of place where I feel the least discomfort going. That idiom concerning rocks and hard places comes to mind.

[Raiden]

Must I obstrigillate my verbose propensities, trammeling any garrulous pontifications, pensive ruminations and vociferations, in the name of facilitating the coherence and perspicuousness of my cogitations for the cerebrally lethargic?

[Raiden]

Interesting, thought-provoking threads get like three replies.

 

"My boyfriend keeps murdering me every day, should I leave him?"-type threads go on for many pages.