Pulling a couple of pieces from the archives: A silly little poem about loss and longing from 1994, and an even older essay (from 1992) about the Colombian drug cartel.
Barring certain dire circumstances, or a medical condition such as ‘clinical’ depression, one can avoid the dangers of dissatisfaction by recognizing one’s own capabilities, abilities, and means to achieve what is what actually what matters to oneself, and using this in creating a flexible plan to level up.
This shouldn’t be a news flash, but being dissatisfied, despairing, or fearful makes you vulnerable to those who would use you. In politics this is especially dangerous as one then tends to be attracted to those who seem like like they are strong, know ‘the answers’, and are ‘willing to take charge’. In my opinion that appearance is not only a sham, but generally hides a desire for control and power that has nothing to do with the best interests of most people.
Maybe it’s not all bad news. Perhaps the issue is that big city criminals are getting desperate to find new income sources as legal pot, covid-19, and task forces on trafficking reduce their markets.
A strange idea came to me in conversation the other day, namely that my experience with schizophrenia helps me understand, just a little, what it must be like to be Prince William. I say this because one of the most persistent symptoms of my schizophrenia is the feeling that everyone is talking critically about me.… Continue reading Princes and Madmen
For kicks, a high school essay from 30 years ago about the a particular cartel — long before the modern opioid crisis. The world has changed, and when it comes to addictions, not for the better it would seem.
I’ve pulled out an almost thirty year old essay about ‘virtual reality’ from my high school years