Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand
Monday, October 26, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Have you watched My Sister's Keeper?
In short it is about a girl leukemia-stricken, and she felt that she has been weighing down alot on her family, hence her decision to get her sister to let her die.
That is exactly how I feel when people are nice to me.
In short it is about a girl leukemia-stricken, and she felt that she has been weighing down alot on her family, hence her decision to get her sister to let her die.
That is exactly how I feel when people are nice to me.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Baby you know the problem with giving a person with short term memory vitamin pills is that he loses count and keeps thinking he has taken one but never the second one so he keeps taking more pills.
I mean, the bottle seems half empty already but I don't recall taking that many.
I mean, the bottle seems half empty already but I don't recall taking that many.
Rest well, sleep tight, and pleasant nightmares. Because nightmares are the source of me. Nightmares are why I continue to exist.
Nightmares wake me up, again and again, day after day.
How often do you feel this alive, waking up to a sweaty forehead and racing pulse?
And remember, in the nightmares pull me over to you, to the dark side, and never let me go.
Nightmares wake me up, again and again, day after day.
How often do you feel this alive, waking up to a sweaty forehead and racing pulse?
And remember, in the nightmares pull me over to you, to the dark side, and never let me go.
Monday, October 19, 2009
"You try to help them get some peace of mind," Hopper says.
But what about peace of mind for the ironworkers? They almost never get info on what happens to the people they rescue.
Hopper says that's a sore spot. No follow-up, no closure. You help save a life, you become involved in that life, you know?
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Saving Lives Just Part of the Job
Scott Ostler
Wednesday, January 10, 2001
If you're an ironworker on the Golden Gate Bridge and your home phone rings at 3 a.m., you know it's trouble.
Scott Ostler
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More Scott Ostler ยป
You know someone is threatening to jump off your bridge. Your stuff is always ready; you're out the door in minutes.
If you aren't too late, if you climb out onto the cold steel and sweet-talk some poor lost soul off the beam or tower or manage to wrestle him or her to safety, it's a good feeling. Many suicide attempts are impulsive; lives can be salvaged.
If you fail, if the person jumps into that bottomless fog, it ruins your day.
"There's no describing how helpless you feel," says Ken Hopper, a Golden Gate Bridge ironworker for 17 years.
These ironworkers are tough guys. Men of Steel, they're called. Cowboys in the Sky. They fix and maintain the world's most amazing Tinkertoy.
But what qualifies these blue-collar rivet-wrestlers to perform the delicate psychological task of suicide prevention? Just this: There's nobody else.
"We're the only ones dumb enough to do it," Hopper says.
They're the only ones with enough equipment, knowledge of the bridge and courage to go over the rail.
The suicide rescue duty is voluntary, but the bridge's ironworkers all take their turns.
There's almost no danger of falling, but it's not a risk-free gig. One man pulled a knife on an ironworker. A loaded gun fell out of the pocket of another guy. An ironworker was bitten by a woman he pulled off the bridge.
But the iron cowboys answer the call, late at night or during their shift. At least two of them go out on every rescue. They give it their best shot, and the weird thing is that they wind up being pretty damn good at the psychological stuff.
Sometimes a police psychologist will be at the scene, coaching the ironworkers by radio. More often, the rescuers are on their own. I asked Hopper if the workers are given any suicide prevention training.
"Over the years, (suicide prevention experts) have come to give us seminars, " he says. "They wind up asking us questions, because all they do is talk to these (suicidal people) on the phone. We deal with them face to face."
Often a would-be jumper is locked into a private mental zone and the trick is to get his or her attention. Some tricks that have worked:
Hey, if you're going to jump, at least give me your mom's phone number so I can call her to tell her.
That's a nice watch. If you're going to jump, can I have it?
Sometimes the trick is simple compassion, the voice of a human who cares. Look, I've been through some real hard times myself. I know it's possible to get help.
Hopper estimates he has talked or wrestled down about 30 people, and lost two.
Great percentage, but even so, it all caught up with him a few years ago. Hopper underwent a couple years of therapy, had his name removed from the rescue-call list.
"It wasn't one incident," he says, "it was a culmination. I tried to stuff 'em all in this bag. The bag gets so big, it bursts."
Hopper is a bear of a guy with a bushy mustache and a sensitive side. When he noticed that waterfront joggers have a ritual of touching the fence at the dead-end of the sidewalk next to Fort Point, he had the bridge's sign painter make a sign with two handprints on it, and another sign with two dog paws, because one woman had her dog touch the fence.
So losses haunt him. Once Ken and two other ironworkers were clinging to one arm of a man hanging over the rail. The man grabbed another piece of bridge with his other arm, wrenched free and swung off another beam and into the world's most popular suicide pit.
Another time, Hopper arrived at a rescue just in time to see a man fling his 2-year-old daughter off the bridge, then jump off himself.
It eats at Hopper when a talked-down suicide is taken into custody and then quickly released with little or no psychiatric observation. Hopper talked an 18-year-old City College student off the bridge, and she was taken away by police.
The next morning, while a press conference was being held at City Hall to announce a new bridge suicide-prevention program, the teenager walked back onto the bridge and jumped.
On occasion, the family of a jumper will later seek out the ironworkers involved in the attempted rescue. What happened? What were my son's last words?
"You try to help them get some peace of mind," Hopper says.
But what about peace of mind for the ironworkers? They almost never get info on what happens to the people they rescue.
Hopper says that's a sore spot. No follow-up, no closure. You help save a life, you become involved in that life, you know?
"Once in a great while," Hopper says, "one of the guys will get a letter or note from someone they talked down. I've known that to happen only two or three times. When a guy gets a letter like that, it's a treasure; it's like gold."
Mostly, the ironworkers don't talk or philosophize or complain about this aspect of their job. They don't talk feelings. They're tough guys.
As soon as Hopper completed his therapy, as soon as he felt like he had a handle, he put his name back on the call list for rescues.
Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=%2Fchronicle%2Farchive%2F2001%2F01%2F10%2FMN160983.DTL#ixzz0UOMncl1n
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
I lie in bed, getting no sleep. I twist and turn, as though my sheets had cysts and fern.
It's been two hours and the internet radio keeps buffering.
All the right friends
-silence for two seconds-
in all the wrong places
-pauses-
So yeah, we're going down
It can be possible that rain can fall,
-static- when it's over our heads
The sun is shining everyday, but it's far away
Just paint the picture of a perfect place
I wait for it die, like it should, but it never dies. Like a broken record player going, refusing to die. I wait for silence to come, but there is none.
Waiting, waiting for sleep to come, waiting to go to sleep. Light fades away, but it never turns pitch black.
These are the times when I wonder when people would die, and when I would die, or if I would wake at all.
You have enticed me to gaze into your black hole. Convince me to fall into your event horizon, so that I know there is no turning back once I'm in. In the meantime let me dream and frolick in the heavens before I'm condemned so far, far below.
It's been two hours and the internet radio keeps buffering.
All the right friends
-silence for two seconds-
in all the wrong places
-pauses-
So yeah, we're going down
It can be possible that rain can fall,
-static- when it's over our heads
The sun is shining everyday, but it's far away
Just paint the picture of a perfect place
I wait for it die, like it should, but it never dies. Like a broken record player going, refusing to die. I wait for silence to come, but there is none.
Waiting, waiting for sleep to come, waiting to go to sleep. Light fades away, but it never turns pitch black.
These are the times when I wonder when people would die, and when I would die, or if I would wake at all.
You have enticed me to gaze into your black hole. Convince me to fall into your event horizon, so that I know there is no turning back once I'm in. In the meantime let me dream and frolick in the heavens before I'm condemned so far, far below.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
He could not touch the one he loved.
To hide his shame he keeps his hands behind his back.
It did not occur to him that he could break the law.
To hide his shame he keeps his hands behind his back.
It did not occur to him that he could break the law.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
I'm going to crack.
The more people do things for me, the sadder I get. I know they are sincere but the major problem is that I wouldn't be able to return the favor. Wouldn't return the favor without hurting at least one or many. It really does break my heart to say so.
Tell me how do I return the favor. How.
The more people do things for me, the sadder I get. I know they are sincere but the major problem is that I wouldn't be able to return the favor. Wouldn't return the favor without hurting at least one or many. It really does break my heart to say so.
Tell me how do I return the favor. How.