Moving to Denison Iowa, boredom and stress.

Way back, on May 29th, I got things out of order. Not to hard to do considering all the times I've lived in Sioux City and then moved to other places. If you want to get back in order then go read the May 29th post about Denison, Iowa and then read this one.

I'll do a short recap of that post now so you don't have to if you don't want to. I actually didn't like Denison. Lots of reasons but it was a boring place with absolutely nothing to do. Nothing much around to steal either except for the mountain of pop bottles that I found.

Naturally I shoplifted a little bit but there wasn't much of anything I wanted either. Stole some books and comic books, candy and cigarettes but that was about it. No big scores or any kind and very little excitement.

As I said before, the courthouse was across the street and the neighbor kids and I played over on the huge lawn. Neighbors were Pete, Kenny and another brother that I forgot his name.

I'd shoplifted a slingshot. One of those modern ones that used the surgical tubing instead of cutting up a piece of inner tube and using that for the bands. It also had an attachment that would let you shoot arrows with it. Lol, forgot, I shoplifted the arrows too.

We used to take it over to the courthouse and shoot it. Then we started playing chicken with it. One of us would shoot an arrow as straight up into the air as we could and then we would all have to stand out in the open until the arrow came down.

The other three would sometimes chicken out but I never did. The arrow would go so high that you would lose site of it and if it would have hit one of us in the top of the head it would have killed anyone of us instantly.

As usual it was dangerous, it was my idea of fun and I didn't care if it hit me or not.

I'm going to get off the track here and see if I can explain something. I doubt most people will understand but I'll try anyway.

There is something marvelously liberating about not caring if you live or die. If it just doesn't matter you can do things normal people wouldn't do. The same with not caring what other people think of you.

Not caring what your neighbors think is freedom that most people don't have. Most worry to much about what other people are going to think and base some of their most important life decisions on that basis.

To me that's one of the stupidest things you can do. Even stupider than doing things that could get you killed or seriously hurt because you don't care about life or death. Caring to much about what your neighbors or friends think causes a lot of stress and sometimes traps you into doing things you don't want to do or being something you don't want to be.

I've lived in dumpy places that probably should have been condemned and I've lived in very fancy places that impressed the hell out of people. I've driven new vehicles and I've driven pieces of junk. I've bought clothes at Goodwill and I've also bought designer clothes. Heh, one of my favorite shirts I bought at Goodwill 12 years ago.

The last new vehicle I owned was a 2001 Suburban with all the options you could get. I bought that for my wife and step sons safety and I seldom drove it. Mostly I drove my 97 Chevy Silverado pickup. Now I have a 2001 Pontiac Aztek with 150,000 miles on it.

What I drive doesn't matter as long as it's reliable and gets me where I want to go. I could afford a new vehicle now but what's the point of that as long as this one is still reliable and problem free. Lol, the best thing about new is the warranty.

I don't own a suit or a tie. Seldom have as I hate to wear a tie. For business I've occasionally had to play the part but it's not me. For what I want to do in the future I'll have to play a part and I'll do it but only because it's necessary to what I want to accomplish. Yes, I know how to play to peoples perceptions but I seldom bother. It's to much work most of the time.

Perceptions is a whole nother topic all by itself.

Except for a couple of things Denison Iowa was an entirely forgettable place and not a place I ever want to go back to. Surprisingly enough not much of anything bad happened to me there. Well, the usual mental and physical abuse but you should know by now, if you keep up with this, that being beaten was the norm.

The beatings and abuse were so normal to me that I don't even remember most of them. There are three that were very memorable but the rest were just run of the mill beatings. No big deal as far as memories go.

When we moved to Denison I was 12 yrs old. When we moved out of there I was 13 yrs old. Things don't even get remotely better for me for another couple of years. By then it doesn't matter.

While there was a lot of boredom and stress there were some good times too.

Life and death and does it matter

Mama T and I were talking this morning and some how we got on the subject of death. We had been talking about Karma and some other things and for some reason I made the remark that I'd be glad when this life was over as it had been pretty much BS from the time I was born.

She and I seem to have some sort of bond that I can't explain nor would I bother to try. Being from two different cultures makes it very interesting and sometimes hard but we still have this thing between us. It's not sexual at all.

She told me this morning that she's glad I wasn't successful when I was a kid because then she and Baby T wouldn't have met me and I wouldn't have influenced her life. She also told me she was very glad to have met me and that no matter what we would always be friends and she would never hurt me.

My thoughts at that statement were, yeah, right, that's what they all say but I didn't say that. I'll reserve judgement on that and see what happens. She's a very nice person and I've never had anyone like her for a friend before. I do have a friend, Misha, that I like and trust but she comes from a lifestyle more like mine. At best that makes her an iffy friend.

Mama T comes from a background about as far from mine as you could get. While she may have been born in a different country, India, we think remarkably the same way about most things. She's quite religious and at best I'm agnostic but that doesn't bother either of us. Nor does she try to push her beliefs on me.

Another thing we have in common, she just told me this morning, is that she doesn't care all that much about life either. She's not afraid to die and if it happens, no big deal. Both of us agree that we would fight to live, that we aren't suicidal and would never give up easily but if it happens, it happens.

There is a huge difference between not having a fear of death and wanting to die. There's a huge difference between being glad when my life is over and done with and wanting to die. Lol, all this may change when I'm on my deathbed.

The above may seem weird but I like to win and giving up and letting someone kill me or dying intentionally would be losing. Not fighting would be giving up. I can't do that either.

So, my life will continue and I will fight for it to continue but that doesn't mean I can't be glad when it's going to be over.