Little_Sticks
New member
- Joined
- Aug 19, 2009
- Messages
- 1,358
Apparently I have a creepy sense of humor.
There was a joke someone said, "How do you make a blender scream?" Put a baby in feet-first was the answer. I didn't think it was funny, but instead found the idea of putting a baby in a blender head-first funny because theoretically it's not torture and the idea of a baby in a blender in that case sounds funny to me; it's not something that people and it's so fucked up, it makes me laugh.
I laugh when people get hurt too. People losing limbs, getting blown up, burned, it's all kind of funny because it's so fucked up I just don't want to take it seriously, or maybe that means I don't want to take life seriously either, yeah maybe that's it. I remember in basic training, the Drill Sergeant who was infantry (he had been deployed in Iraq for a lot of the war) said you had to laugh at fucked up things or you'd go crazy by being around it, get PTSD or kill yourself or something. I wonder if what I do is what he meant.
Sometimes I fantasize about dying by being shot to death or blown up or burned. There's something really exciting about dying that way compared to shitting yourself in a bed at age 80 or something. Like going out with a kind of bang, rather than a whimper. I know I'm going to die, sometimes, and how long I live doesn't make any absolutist difference in terms of truth or any of that shit people like to cling to in their lives; I just want to have fun then, I guess.
But I kind of wonder if I'm crazy because of this. I used to be very crazy and then I started learning to accept it. Now I relate so much to certain kinds of people that are almost always calm under stress or at the least, even if their body is reacting, their mind is always geared towards acting. Lisbeth Salander is almost like a reflection of me; it scared me. Up until the last couple years, I've had shitty self-awareness that it actually gave me a mild panic attack, something that replaced my usual adrenaline high. It would be strange now for me to get a panic attack. Usually if I'm under stress, I can dissociate from expectations of what's happening and center my mind on what's happening and likely to happen and dealing with that only. I had a similar reaction to playing the game Fear. Alma was like a reflection of how fucked up I used to be and kept inside. Going through the game was like traversing my own hellish repressed emotions and feelings, but in another person. And I'm sure it related with my fucked up thoughts on the ways I would prefer to die. And it's fucked up saying that because it's just a video game; strange how some things can have such an impact, while others don't.
Reminds me of Basic Training though, where I was shitty at most stuff that didn't matter to me, like DNC, but motivated to do things like squad movements, reflexive fire, clearing rooms, reacting to fire, etc. that was all dependent on communicating effectively and doing your job, all the stuff that actually matters in combat, and that will actually save your team's lives. Maybe I should have been infantry, but they get treated like shit. And I know all that stuff kind of relates to being fucked up because normal people don't subconsciously seek that shit out; it's like it releases my adrenaline and taunts me, as if to say that if I don't embrace it, I'm not beating it. And then it's a never-ending cycle. But I don't think I care. Better to do something about it, then to let it rot away my spirit.
I probably am kind of crazy. But at least, maybe, it's a healthy kind.
There was a joke someone said, "How do you make a blender scream?" Put a baby in feet-first was the answer. I didn't think it was funny, but instead found the idea of putting a baby in a blender head-first funny because theoretically it's not torture and the idea of a baby in a blender in that case sounds funny to me; it's not something that people and it's so fucked up, it makes me laugh.
I laugh when people get hurt too. People losing limbs, getting blown up, burned, it's all kind of funny because it's so fucked up I just don't want to take it seriously, or maybe that means I don't want to take life seriously either, yeah maybe that's it. I remember in basic training, the Drill Sergeant who was infantry (he had been deployed in Iraq for a lot of the war) said you had to laugh at fucked up things or you'd go crazy by being around it, get PTSD or kill yourself or something. I wonder if what I do is what he meant.
Sometimes I fantasize about dying by being shot to death or blown up or burned. There's something really exciting about dying that way compared to shitting yourself in a bed at age 80 or something. Like going out with a kind of bang, rather than a whimper. I know I'm going to die, sometimes, and how long I live doesn't make any absolutist difference in terms of truth or any of that shit people like to cling to in their lives; I just want to have fun then, I guess.
But I kind of wonder if I'm crazy because of this. I used to be very crazy and then I started learning to accept it. Now I relate so much to certain kinds of people that are almost always calm under stress or at the least, even if their body is reacting, their mind is always geared towards acting. Lisbeth Salander is almost like a reflection of me; it scared me. Up until the last couple years, I've had shitty self-awareness that it actually gave me a mild panic attack, something that replaced my usual adrenaline high. It would be strange now for me to get a panic attack. Usually if I'm under stress, I can dissociate from expectations of what's happening and center my mind on what's happening and likely to happen and dealing with that only. I had a similar reaction to playing the game Fear. Alma was like a reflection of how fucked up I used to be and kept inside. Going through the game was like traversing my own hellish repressed emotions and feelings, but in another person. And I'm sure it related with my fucked up thoughts on the ways I would prefer to die. And it's fucked up saying that because it's just a video game; strange how some things can have such an impact, while others don't.
Reminds me of Basic Training though, where I was shitty at most stuff that didn't matter to me, like DNC, but motivated to do things like squad movements, reflexive fire, clearing rooms, reacting to fire, etc. that was all dependent on communicating effectively and doing your job, all the stuff that actually matters in combat, and that will actually save your team's lives. Maybe I should have been infantry, but they get treated like shit. And I know all that stuff kind of relates to being fucked up because normal people don't subconsciously seek that shit out; it's like it releases my adrenaline and taunts me, as if to say that if I don't embrace it, I'm not beating it. And then it's a never-ending cycle. But I don't think I care. Better to do something about it, then to let it rot away my spirit.
I probably am kind of crazy. But at least, maybe, it's a healthy kind.
