I used to take pictures almost every day. I have an award winning picture I took of my brother, it’s good. But then bad things happened and I lost all desire to take pictures. I felt like deleting and tossing out most of my pictures, which I did. I stopped painting, have to use discipline to practice guitar, seem to have less zest. Well, there’s more now, since I’m starting to recognize triggers and evidences of a quality life.
I’m taking my camera around with me, and have snapped a few, but nothing I really like. I’ll keep trying though.
davidmedsker's Life List
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1. play guitar
2 entries1,709 people -
2. bike a century
2 entries . 2 cheers178 people -
3. Join Mensa
1 entry293 people -
4. stop being so sensitive
1 entry162 people -
5. Get my teeth fixed
2 entries748 people -
6. Kill my tv
1 entry11 people -
7. take out the trash
1 entry9 people -
8. save someone's life
982 people -
9. Be a missionary
212 people -
10. love myself
1 entry4,431 people -
11. take more pictures
1 entry14,308 people -
12. Own a Gustav Klimt painting
1 person -
13. Own a V12 Ferrari with glass packs
1 person -
14. try fugu
1 entry3 people -
15. Leave a smaller footprint
1 person -
16. discipline
3 entries27 people -
17. Create a signature oil painting media blending with car paints
1 entry . 1 cheer1 person -
18. Date the woman in my dreams
1 person -
19. A year of training on a reformer
1 person -
20. Never worry about money
35 people -
21. Start a business
2,083 people -
22. Drive a Ferrari in Italy
1 person -
23. Lose 45 pounds
1 entry337 people -
24. Mountain bike
74 people -
25. become a millionaire
1,658 people -
26. Be kind to people who are unkind to me
2 entries . 1 cheer1 person -
27. Help kids succeed at worthwhile achievements after they've given up
1 entry1 person -
28. Be loved by a woman unconditionally
1 person
But I was raised by women, don’t know how to pee standing up and have monthly mood swings, so maybe this is worth looking into.(Also, I have manboobs, but thankfully never got my period. whew.)
So I have three days to kill, Labor Day weekend. Saw a queer walking in Caesers in white pants and his arse pushed in and made a comment that I only had two more days to wear my white pants. My escort, surprisingly a smoking hot 34 year old (female!) thought it strange that I owned white pants (I don’t) but didn’t know the rule about Memorial day to Labor Day. My feminine nature marvels me, and therefore needs some tuning up.
So a hypothetical question, while listening to self-loathing Alice in Chains my favorite band: What would I do this weekend if I loved myself.
There was no answer.
Then I have to wonder, do I really despise myself that much? Oy.
What would I do this weekend if I hate myself? Wonderful. I can answer that question six ways til Sunday (or Monday, as the case may be). Drink, skip church, try and get in some girls pants, drive too fast (that’s open for debate, till you find out where I do this), play 72 hours of video games and not touch my guitar, blow off work, don’t answer my phone, etc.
So the way to answer the question intellectually but without feeling is do the reverse of this longer list. that’s a poor excuse for loving myself. Is it really that important? Denis Leary made my favorite tv show “Rescue Me” based on self-hatred, and friendship through non-shmoozing. What to do?
NASA launched a satellite to measure the magnetic interference of the sun with out electronic equipment and they found a magnetic rip thousands of miles above the earth, like a jacobs ladder between the sun and the earth, and the shock or circuit getting broken and pulsing again is the cause of the lights. Shouldn’t that be headline news?


