I don’t tell people things because they weaponize it against me later. Not handing you knives to stab me with no matter how you frame it.
I think you might need better mates. Unless the things you’re doing is kicking dogs.
Also dog kicker better watch out who he shares that info with before he accidentally makes friends with John Wick.
I left a new friendship real fast because he said, “I take pleasure in mocking my friends.”
And I told him, “I’m not interested in that level of immaturity” and he texts me every few months with random YouTube videos left on seen.
I’m too old for this shit.
if they’re gonna do that why are you hanging out with these people
this is the way
I never could quite understand how to describe the experience of “clicking” or “meshing” with someone. Now I realize its got to do with the mutual ability to differentiate between communication from an emotional thought and that from a logical thought.
When I’m not clicking with someone they’re probably regularly misattributing and applying the opposed source of communication and acting on it. When someone assigns an emotional thought to the logic bin it feels like backstabbing, like the thought is weaponized against me while I was being vulnerable.
Anyways, that’s why i talk to you as little as possible Steve.
And their Steam profile is like: Factorio 832 hours played 117 hours in the last two weeks
832 hours… What is this kindergarten?
If you don’t have 5,000 hours in factorio, can you even call yourself an engineer?
What if you’re an engineer who knows about Factorio and also knows a few things about your own psyche, and therefore have 0.0 hours played?
Then you’re a smarter person than I, my friend.
This is why I warn my friends not to play factorio. I’m not strong enough to lead by example, but I can definitely live as a warning.
I kind of want to try it. Especially once we get closer to winter. I could test my ability to still work on some planned indoor tech projects while Factorio is installed on my computer.
I bet I’d pass that test.
… unless preying on such hubris is how the factory gets you! Maybe the real test is knowing the only way to win is to not play at all!
I’m assuming satisfactory also applies. Any game you might whip out spreadsheets tbh.
THE FACTORY MIST GROW DEPRESSION BE DAMNED
The idea that women can’t be just as emotionally unavailable and fucked up as men is laughable. Women are simply forced to pass and simulate the acceptable emotions you want them to have.
This post describes me down to the letter. Friends have issues with it but over time they’ve come to understand it’s just how I am. In men, its stoic. In women, you’re a cold bitch.
Or one can always smile, always laugh, always demure, always dissemble, always hide, always mask, always be emotionally removed.
That sounds tiring, doesn’t wearing that heavy of a mask constantly start itching the soul?
My point is that when women are withdrawn and emotionally unavailable, they are more likely to have been conditioned to present (and perhaps are more capable of presenting) a false face so that those around them are not aware in the first place. And yes, it’s known to be incredibly fatiguing, sometimes to the point where you can’t really do anything else.
Went on an epic solo kayak trip. No white water, merely a flat Florida creek. Came out shell shocked, could not speak of it. Who would give a shit? Who would understand? You weren’t there. No one was there.
If anyone cares to read it. No editing, only what I wrote when I got home. Because I had to write something to get it out. "It" being so close to death so many times, or worse, some sort of surrender to nature. Not going out like that, not if I still got breath.
Went to conquer the West Branch of Big Cold Creek. Bucket list thing.
Got my neighbor to extract me at the Adventures Unlimited landing. LOL, the plan was to get all the way back to Carpenter’s Park in Milton. Nope.
Couldn’t talk to him, sat quietly on the ride, shocked to be out of there.
We get back to my car, young rednecks hanging out under the bridge, jammin’ tunes and drinking beer. Young girl comes running up:
“Oh my god, is that your car?!”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“This is gonna sound so weird but can I give you a hug?”
“Um.”
SQUEEZE
in a rush of words
“Oh my god we saw you take off yesterday AND YOU NEVER CAME BACK and we were talking about who to call for rescue and we thought you might be dead and we didn’t know who to call and oh my god I’m glad you’re OK!”
SQUEEZE
Nobody goes down that creek. Nobody. Even the guys at Adventures Unlimited didn’t know about West Cold Creek. And they WORK on Big Cold Creek!
2-miles of non-stop deadfalls, downed trees blocking the way every 50’, 3 jams in 30’ was the bonus prize.
Humped my kayak and gear over-and-under and through dozens. Logs; slippery, mossy, underwater, rotten, floating, covered in spiky branches. Over one and the current slams you into the next, on the wrong side. It gets worse the farther you go.
7 hours, 7 o’clock, 1.8 miles, no strength left, can’t make the main creek. 3 more impasses in sight. Soaked and submerged in West COLD Creek, over and over, for hours. Thinking hypothermia might in the works (sometimes one can’t tell because adrenaline, people die in summer temps), went to strike camp.
South side; solid creeper thorns, impassable, looked North across the creek. No lie, a patch of sunlight (weird in these thick woods) shining on a flat, elevated position. Barely bigger than my tent. Like God himself pointing His enormous finger, “No you idiot, there!”
Dragged my gear up a 45º incline, tied the boat to a tree, pitched camp. Nearly everything in the hull soaked, dry-bags too loose. Clothes and linens dry! Splatted gear all about, got in the tent with dry clothes, warmed, rested, took stock, took a beer. Got gear squared away, hung a clothesline. Like it’s gonna dry. So wet a road flare couldn’t start pine needles. I have created smoke!
Next morning, laid on my bedroll for hours, too sore to move. Heard day trippers, tubers and canoers, yelling on the main creek. People that close. Just gotta get off this tributary. No matter what I can pull the life-vest ripcord, float to a sand bank, await rescue.
OK; Tylenol, cold espresso, trail mix. 1 hour and I’m home free.
3 more hours to until I saw Salvation Beach.
Wasn’t supposed to storm but I spent an hour or more hiding when it got bad, 3 storm bands, hanging on tree limbs under banks. Nowhere to safely get on shore, 20sq/ft of any land was a godsend and deserved a stop.
Oh, and bailing the kayak with a dish rag after I lost my sponge. “Always carry a towel” is sound advice (Bugblatter Beasts aside), a big yellow sponge is a necessity.
So tired I flipped the kayak for the first time (and that was after I hit the easy creek). Lost my weapon, new and old phones, GPS, monocular, ecig, knife, don’t know what all. One bag but it was the good stuff. Still had survival gear.
I was extraordinarily cautious; one accident could strand/kill me. No getting out without a chopper and sling. Sometimes I wanted to quit, give up and fire a pair of flares at the next helicopter or plane.
“How am I going to lever this @^%*! boat over this !#@%$ log with 10 gallons of water in the hull and taking on more!?” In a storm, flooding my boat from top and bottom.
One time I grabbed the T-handle on the front and bailed into the swirling green. Don’t care what’s down there, this yak is going over this log. Promptly run over by my own boat. Came up laughing! Beat that one!
4 miles down the main creek I landed at Adventures Unlimited (local outfitter), borrowed the office phone to call for extraction. Looked rough climbing out of there, rain top shredded down the back, covered in bruises and lacerations. Workers at the landing were shooting the bull with me until one guy really got a look, “Do you need help man?” “Yeah, I do. Not with you guys this weekend but I need to call for a ride. Mind if I walk up to the church or cemetery, see if I can get a signal?”
I’m faithful about only testing one bit of gear at a time, way too much new stuff on unfamiliar turf. Many lessons learned. LIFE STRAWS WORK! (Ask me, I could be a spokesman.)
16 Band-Aids/patches on my hands alone. I’m black and blue all over but from the knees down it’s frightful. Thought my legs were tanned and dirty, nope, bruising so solid it’s an even color.
Did I mention the non-stop boat full of spiders? And the big yellow sponge? Fun fact: You can flick banana spiders out with a big yellow sponge. Otherwise grab their leg and yeet 'em.
I’m going back in.
And nothing I wrote there expresses the fear and uncertainty I felt. I’ll only add, I’m experienced and that trip was planned.
Anyway, got another solo coming up! But I never brave that fucking creek again.
the duality of man
Reading that satisfied my need for adventures, now I can just stay home
That sounds like a nightmare and I kind of want to go.
Holy shit thats a hell of an adventure. Getting into bed safe at home that night must have felt amazing.
Sitting in this very chair, all alone, warm and quiet, that was quite a thing. I don’t have words for it.
At the time I was thinking, “I will never do that crazy shit again. Ever.”
After writing it out, getting the shock out of my system, “Ya know, I could do much better if I…”
Sounds like some “Type 3” fun. Great story.
I have new words! Damn, apparently I do a lot of Type 3 adventures. My wife and kids do not appreciate such “fun”.
Did a similar trip. Missed the high water by a few days and ended portaging a fully loaded canoe through mud for most of it. Saw gar big enough to tip the boat. Went through what I thought was rain, but was actually a mosquito swarm. Went over and under felled trees and saw spiders as big as my hand. Saw a moccasin get ripped in half by something… When the river finally opened up, I ended up paddling on pure adrenaline and screaming Tenacious D songs for motivation until the landing appeared. I was only out two days.
One of my fondest memories.
The over and under trees was what mostly kicked my ass. I was standing on one, 6’ above the water line, thinking, “There is no way in hell I can drag this gear straight up and over.” Sat there for 15 minutes looking around and thinking. Only option? Under the trunk there was a tiny triangle clear, 10" at the high point. I stomped the kayak under until it popped up the other side. Win!
Look if I tell you about my impending suicide it’s going to make everything worse for both of us
Not suicide. But one time, I ate something so bad I diarrhea’d nonstop. Practically ghosted my friend for a whole week because I was quietly dying from pooping my insides. Oh, and the SMELL.
Anyways, when I saw them again, the thought did cross my mind. Easier to tell them suicide rather than explain that I couldn’t stop projectile shitting everywhere.
They were Isekaid and turned into a slime that had sex with everything that moved.
But they returned now and don’t want to talk about the orgies. They miss em.
r u me?
everything that moved.
Why limit yourself?
Would you rather me tell you about the tank of helium and the bag and hoses I bought and then returned, or do you just want to go back to playing cards and getting on with things?
Made the right choice BTW, stay strong.
I don’t know if it was strength or not. I fell in love. Went to visit a friend I have known for 20 years but never met in person. Intended for it to be a goodbye. Plan was to go see him, get back home, mail the letters, drive to the ocean, and watch the sea as it happened. Even bought clear bags to make sure I could see it.
Fell in love with him while I was there. Not sure if that’ll work out or not, but it gave me a reason to live. And if it doesn’t work out, it means there might be other reasons to live still out there. I had only ever had the one reason, it was an honest to surprise to find out there could be another.
The key is that you persist. I call it survival or I like to say, despite whatever is going on, “yet I still persist”. Finding new and different reasons to help you maintain this persistence are also very important. Stay here don’t leave. That’s it.
I hope you continue to find new reasons.
Exactly. I couldn’t agree more.
When killing yourself the right thing to do is to set it up some piano wire in such a way that you’re able to sever your own head, AFTER supergluing your hands to the side of your head.
Its crucial that you have a friend that’s in on it so that they can remove the piano wire when they “stumble” on to your dead body, and the investigators struggle to figure out how and why your ripped your own head off.
Do me a favor and practice what you preach.
i thought i was the only one who thought of that…
<3
Good example.
It’s fine. We’re fine.
Ive got the opposite problem of a lot of the comments here. When I go away alone for some time to think about things. When I come back I people genuinely care more than I do.
When people try and ask whats going on i dont want to share anything with them because ive already thought it through and I dont want to think about it anymore and return to my daily routine.
I dont know why this is but whenever i do something that isnt being happy or relaxed or whenever i share any thoughts or feelings that are slightly sad or negative people react like I just told them I’m considering killing myself. Then they get upset and I have to spend time and energy comforting them and reassuring them that I’m fine. So far all my partners have been like this and I’m really hoping this isnt normal because it makes me not want to find another relationship.
If it helps at all, I was in this situation in my former long term relationship and my current partner isn’t like that in the slightest.
That is reassuring. I’ll have to do something to filter those people out like cry on the first date lol.
That is likely to scare away even people that would be fine with it 2 months in. Most people are not trying to become your therapist on day 1.
I never heard of any man who will go away for hours or days? This is honestly messed up. But the way people talk about this sounds like it’s normal.
I feel like this person is talking about a coworker who didn’t come to work for a few days and doesn’t wanna talk about why. I’ve been this coworker before, so maybe I’m just projecting.
I’m just here for a paycheck, not to share my trauma with coworkers I barely know.
But, but, we’re family here at insert business.
PRODUCTOCORP loves you!
“And you love PRODUCTOCORP! That’s why you are willing to be underpaid.”
Oh I understand now.
I was confused by the post because it made it sound like men do this at home.
Maybe not days, but hours? That’s not really all that weird. Depending on the context, of course. But needing a few hours alone to process something is pretty reasonable imo.
I’ve done it. When I’m emotional I just want to be alone. Being around people doesn’t help at all. Hell I’ve taken a week of PTO just to stay home by myself and not have to talk to anyone.
When I was younger, I worked second shift. I used to get off work at midnight and drive 5 hours north to watch the sun rise on the beach.
Didn’t matter the weather or time of year, If I was stressing and didn’t want to go home to my empty lonely apartment, I’d take a short road trip as far as I could go. I miss doing it tbh.
I never told anyone about it, no one ever asked.
My friendships are the kind where we won’t see eachother for six months then hang out like not a day has passed.
Pretty much. See each other 15 times in a decade. Easily best pal over there.
Yeah it’s pretty normal bachelor stuff.
Women are obsessed with their own and each other’s safety in a way that men just aren’t. I mean, the girl I was dating when I was 25, her mother still forbade her from driving on certain sections of busy highways. I had full run of the US highway system at 17.
Women will get pretty close with their roommates, exchange contact info, and will tell each other detailed plans on where they’re going, memorize what they’re wearing, fill out missing persons forms in advance, etc. When I went back to college in my late 20’s, I got a room with three other guys, and if you asked me the day I moved out what their names were I think I would have struggled to tell you. They didn’t involve me in their lives and I didn’t them.
The times I stayed overnight with a girl? Weekends visiting my parents? That time I wandered off into the Uwharries for three days? They probably didn’t notice I was gone. I passed one of my roommates in the hall one day and he mentioned he had just gotten back from Nigeria. I didn’t notice he had left the country for two weeks.
We do the same shit:
Girl, you don’t want to know. Anyways, I saw that new hairstyle! Who’s doing yours‽
Yes. Yes, we do.
My mom was a man?
Good for… Them?
Removed by mod
Yes. Not a gender exclusive behavior though.
What even is society for, other than lumping people together with those who would gladly see them dead.
- Put hen and foxes in the same pen.
- Society.
- ???
- Profit
What am I supposed to say, that I was abducted and probed and got to hang out with big foot and Michael Jackson before being dropped off in Iowa?
