Just the other day I was watching a space shuttle launch and got this sickening feeling. As the shuttle got higher and higher, this loneliness and insignificance started creeping through me. Thinking about the people on the ship that were so small compared to the vastness of space they were entering, triggered something inside me. I can't really explain it, but the feeling lasted until I fell asleep that night. I have never felt that way before, nor do I want to again. Just for a little while, I started thinking how nice it would be to believe in a god right now. At minimum, it would at least give me some comfort in thinking somebody was there when I was feeling so lonely.

Now I look back and have been thinking about it. Would that actually make me feel better(believing in a god)? Short-term, I think it probably would have. But in the long run, I think being honest to myself by trying to understand why I felt that way, is much more healthy. Having a god would just give me comfort so I can feel better, without an understanding of why I was feeling that way. Making myself mentally lazy would not help me. In effect, I think God is a placebo, and doesn't do anything but make you think you are OK. He doesn't actually fix anything. It's just the idea of a warm cozy blanket on a cold winter night, not an actual blanket.

I hope that made sense, I am up way too late.

My "place inside me that knows right from wrong" tells me that I shouldn't listen to these people.

If you want something to play with
Go and find yourself a toy
Baby my time is too expensive
And I'm not a little boy

If you are serious
Don't play with my heart
It makes me furious
But if you want me to love you
Then a baby I will, girl you know that I will

Tell it like it is
Don't be ashamed to let your conscience be your guide
But I know deep down inside me
I believe you love me, forget your foolish pride

Life is too short to have sorrow
You may be here today and gone tomorrow
You might as well get what you want
So go on and live, baby go on and live

Tell it like it is
I'm nothing to play with
Go and find yourself a toy
But I... Tell it like it is
My time is too expensive and I'm not your little bo

I feel so flower and so lonely
I feel so bouquet in the dark
You're my witness in the mirror
Cause I suck you every day
I want to take you on
Make you shine like a bruise
I want to take you on
Drink the wine from your wound
Find your mother in my make-up
Drag me under six feet down
There's no logic to this madness
Pick your poison
Trick this smile
I want to take you riding
Take you flying little bird
Fly your kite inside me
To the mountain with the word
I want to take you riding
Take you flying little bird
Fly your kite inside me
To the mountain with the word
When the sea is lapping
Muse is strapping in her child
Find the petals fading
Night is shading
In the wild

I don't have anything really valid to add, except that the 14 year old boy deep down inside me is screaming "COME ON! DON'T RUIN MY GAME!"

shame we couldn't see the panel's response, if there was one.

transcript (from here)...

Start of transcript

Mr. Chairman, I’m surprised at the minister there now.

First of all Mr Minister (directed at Minister Noel Dempsey) you made a bags of it in the beginning by changing the judges. You made a complete bags of it at that time, because I went to the La Foy commission and ye had seven barristers there, questioning me and telling that I was telling lies, when I told them that I got raped of a Saturday, got a merciful beating after it, and then stuffed…

… he came along the following morning and put holy communion in my mouth.

You don’t know what happened there. You haven’t the foggiest, you’re talking through your hat there. And you’re talking to a Fianna Fáil man, a former councilor and former mayor you’re talking to, that worked tooth and nail or you, for the party that you’re talking about now. Ye didn’t do it right, ye got it wrong.

Admit it.

And apologize for doing that. Because you don’t know what I feel inside me. You don’t know the hurt I am.

You said it was non-adversarial.

My God.

Seven barristers.

Throwing questions at us.

Non-stop.

I tri.. attempted to commit suicide, there’s the woman who saved me from committing suicide, on me way down from Dublin, after spending five days at the commission. Five days I spent at the commission. They brought a man over from Rome, ninety odd years of age, to tell me I was telling lies.

That I wasn’t beaten for an hour, non-stop by two of them.

By two of them.

Non-stop from head to toe without a shred of cloth on my body.

My God minister.

And could I speak to you (comment directed to Leo Varadkar, Fianna Gael), and ask your leader, would you stop making a political football of this.

You hurt this when you do that.

You tear the shreds from inside our body.

For God’s sake, try and give us some peace.

Try to give us some peace and not to continue hurting us.

That woman will tell you how many times I jump out of the bed at night with the sweat pumping out of me. Because I see these fellas at the end of the bed with their fingers doing that (gestures) to me. And pulling me in to the room, to rape me, to bugger me and bate the shite out of me. That’s the way it is.

And you know what?

You know what, sometimes I listen to the leader of Fianna Fáil. I even listened to the apology. T’was mealy mouthed, but at least t’was an apology.

At least t’was an apology.

The Rosminians said in the report, they said they were easy on us. The first day I went to them. The first day to Rosminians in my home which is Ferryhouse in Clonmel, ’cause its the only home I know. He said “you’re in it for the money”.

We didn’t want money.

We didn’t want money. We wanted the pr… someone to stand up and say “yes, these fellas were buggered, these people were ra…”

Little girls. My daughter, oh sorry, my sister. A month old when she was put in to an institution. Eight of us from the one family, dragged by the ISPCC cruelty man. Put in to two cars, brought to the court in Clonmel. Left standing there without food or anything, and the fella in the long black frock and the white collar came along and he put us in to a van.

Not a van, a scut truck, I don’t know what you call it now. And landed us below with two hundred other boys. Two night later I was raped.

How can anyone…

You’re talking about constitution. These people would gladly say “yes” to a constitution to freeze the funds of the religous orders.

This state, this country of ours, would say “yes” to that constitition if you have to change it.

Don’t say you can’t change it.

You’re the governement of this state. You run this state. So for God’s sake stop mealy mouthing. ‘Cause I’m sick of it.

I’m sick of it.

You’re turning me away from voting Fianna Fáil which I have done from the first day that I could vote. Because. And you know me. You know me Mister Minister. You’ve met me on a number of ocassions. So you know what I’m like.

End of transcript

I dunno, something inside me wants to say fake, but there's an equal half saying it's real. It's the talking to ones self and mumbling that pushes it to real. That guy needs some friends, it looks like he's living in his own mind right now.

I hope it's fake, but there's something telling me, this kid needs some friends. =(

Oh fuck, I just remembered another story that has a bit more of a point and is less evil, deceiving and such.

This takes place in Aarhus, where I study now, where the same American friend I mentioned above was visiting and playing for the first time there in a long time. So obviously we had to meet up and get hammered. Now, I had to get back with the last bus, around midnight, because I had to travel back to my island for a vacation at 12 noon. I had everything packed ready to go, except my harddrive, which I usually only remove at the last minute, but I was basically ready to go. So beer time.

We met up at the bar he was playing at, at 9 in the evening, I think. One beer took the next and suddenly it was 00:15 and my bus had just left. Fuck, oh well, I'll just have some fun and grab the first bus in the morning back and get a few hours sleep then.

Then came the shots. Fisherman, Jägermeister and other ugly, ugly stuff, and more beer. we stayed at the bar until about 2 or 3, when it closed down, and waltzed down the road looking for a new place to party on. We found a seedy little disco/bar thing, that we wandered into and had a bunch of tequila - I do ever love Tequila.

When it was 6 or 7'ish in the morning we were both heading back to our respective places. We had to take a bus on each side of the road, but at the same stop, so we just "walked" (nearly crawled) down to the bus stop and just hung there for a while. After a while, we had gotten in place on each side of the road, waiting for our respective buses. Mine came first so I hopped on and promptly fell asleep. I thought that this could do, because I only had to get off at the end point anyway, so I would regain consciousness before that (familiar bumps and whatnot). Well, 20 minutes in, I had no fucking idea where I was. Looked out, and couldn't recognize ANYTHING. So I was like, Oh Fuck...

I went up to the bus driver, who looked on me like I was a leper, and asked if it was going to the station I wanted to go to. He said "No, that's not this #11 that's the other #11 on the other side of the road...".

Well, fuck me. Both of us had gotten the wrong bus!

I eventually switched bus and got home to my place at, I think, 8 o'clock. And I promptly collapsed on my bed.

I had to be on a bus heading down to the train station at 12, so this could have gone completely wrong... and it did.

I woke up at 11:30, with a screaming headache, still woozy, and something didn't feel right. So I turned around and there was a nice big puddle of my own vomit in the middle of my bed. "Oh joy", I quietly thought to myself. Of course, that's in hindsight. At the time it was more like "aauuurrrgghhhhh".

I got the sheets of the bed and the bedspread off and put it in the hamper - no time to wash it anyway. Slowly, shakily I removed the harddrive from my computer (lucky, I can do that in my sleep), and tossed it in my bag and was on my way.

But wait! There's more!

In the bus, I had to be for about 30 minutes until it arrived, and halfway it hit a bump and something lurched inside me. "Ooooh fuuuck" I was having dry heaves and cold, cold sweat. In desperation, I grabbed a shirt from my bag and quietly vomited ever so slightly into it - it was even my favorite shirt! I slipped it back into the bag and was not at all in a good mood. 2 minutes after that a woman approached me and asked if my bag was supposed to have that seat all to itself - not the right time to be bitchy at all, if I had had any strength in me at all I would have throttled her where she stood, but alas I was a sick, drunk, tired, head-aching weakling, so I dragged my corpse to the second seat and put my bag on my lap. I was not a happy camper.

When I got to the train, I had to be on it for about 3-4 hours. Two times, I ran to the bathroom and puked again. Good times. The second time, I just stayed out there and fell asleep on the toilet for half an hour. Not my proudest moment.

When I finally arrived home, my dad thought I was dying. I was sick for three days - seriously, hung over, with the vomit and super-happy-fun times and all, for three fucking days.

Yeah, another sequence from the life of Nicki. I hope you enjoy my misery.

I want all three of you inside me.

Interesting. I think we've all seen/felt this at work.

I'm not sure if this is an example of it but I saw a guy on the tube drop a coin recently and he didn't notice. I moved nearer to check the value - I think if it was low I wasn't going to bother returning it to him and would ignore the whole thing. After all making a big deal in public about a penny might make me look foolish. Then I noticed it was a pound coin and felt better about returning it, it was a big enough deal for me to do something about it.
Even with something as innocuous as this there was a little set of conflicts going on inside me about how I should behave.

Still, if I saw someone getting raped and screaming her head off, I would hope that would be enough to make me do *something*.

Wheat grass it is...with a splash of vodka.

In reply to this comment by peggedbea:
Im allergic to vinegar dear, how about a nice bag of wheat grass?

In reply to this comment by rougy:
>> ^peggedbea:
so rougy, you douchebag... are you saying you wanna be inside me????????????!!!??


You're confused again, dear.

I'm not your douchebag, I'm the guy who fills up your weekly assortment of douchebags, the ones you bring to the drive-thru in the trunk of your car.

What will it be this week, sweetie? The usual?

Three waters, three vinegars, and one half-and-half?

>> ^peggedbea:
so rougy, you douchebag... are you saying you wanna be inside me????????????!!!??


You're confused again, dear.

I'm not your douchebag, I'm the guy who fills up your weekly assortment of douchebags, the ones you bring to the drive-thru in the trunk of your car.

What will it be this week, sweetie? The usual?

Three waters, three vinegars, and one half-and-half?

so rougy, you douchebag... are you saying you wanna be inside me????????????!!!??

This taps some kind of primal fear inside me. I think that's where the Lovecraft beasts are waiting to emerge. I get uncomfortable just watching the clip.

"The weekend has landed! All that exists now is clubs, drugs, pubs and parties. I've got 48 hours off from the world, man. I'm gonna blow steam out my head like a screaming kettle, I'm gonna talk cod shit to strangers all night, I'm gonna lose the plot on the dancefloor. The free radicals inside me are freakin', man! Tonight I'm Jip Travolta, I'm Peter Popper, I'm going to never-never land with my chosen family, man. We're gonna get more spaced out than Neil Armstrong ever did, anything could happen tonight, you know? This could be the best night of my life. I've got 73 quid in my back burner - I'm gonna wax the lot, man! The Milky Bars are on me! Yeah!"