This Evenings Red Pill, Thank You Glenfiddich

[Soldier-MedicParticipant 2566]

I was married for over 10 years. And as my wife was trying to inexorably demonstrate to me that I was not longer a person, she managed to shoplift enough DNA during a couple of couple sexual dry spells to reproduce twice so she could ensure her status as wife AND mother. You know. Establishing her immutable social worth from her vaginal byproducts. But to be sure, I no longer counted as a person BOTH before and after impregnation. Especially after impregnation. Most especially after impregnation. Seems like impregnation was really, really important to her since she couldn’t remember my middle name.

But Hey! We have two great kids that we love very much. And if we could only bring back the calloused indifference of postmodern law enforcement, we would still be married because my ex-wife would have learned that fear and pain are the father and mother of respect and necessity.

And after many, many years of wedded bliss, true understanding of happiness would show itself in the guise of Death.

In my ethanol fueled mind I see marriage as room after room of men operating control boards with supervisors that tell their charges that they are doing a good job, while emaciated, skittering, pseudo-humans flagellate us onward, ever onward, towards a blissful future. Odd creatures, whose true natures are never acknowledged let alone spoken of. Creatures, whose very sustenance is derived from the labors of our hapless brothers. Our hands push and pull and twist and turn the control surfaces. If we have a mind to turn our heads towards our neighbors we would see a cracked smile that can only come from a drug-fueled disassociation from realty all the while his hands are slapping, pushing, and prodding an inorganic surface with the hope that the warmth of humanity will emerge somewhere on the far end.

Those men that have the temerity to step away from their assigned duties and crawl up and out through the man-hole covers and hatches, and tell themselves “better an uncertain future, and a certain one with a miserable ending” are castigated. It is implied that they are less than men when they choose their own humanity over dehumanization.

Sorry.

This is the byproduct of the whiskey fueled mind that contemplates a god-awfully cartoonish and dystopian reality of what should be the most intimate of relationships. The stomach roils and the heart fractures while the eye considers calloused fingertips, and the mind contemplates what could have been.

Take a seat here with me on the log in camp. Help yourself to the bottle. We already got this.

See you in the morning.

"I asked you a question. I didn't ask you to repeat what the voices in you head are telling you" ~ Me. ........Yes I'm still angry.

[ILiveAgainParticipant]

Sir … may I suggest that you never stop imbibing of that wonderful nectar.

It brings forth a truth us men keep buried most of the time.

This was beautifully ugly and thought provoking.

Cheers

[RedDawnParticipant 1391]

I have the flu at the moment, but I took a swig of my Glenfiddich 15yo whisky to acknowledge our pain and celebrate our freedom.

I’m sitting down at your log fire enjoying the ambience of the crackling and the constellations above my head.

Courage is the key to life itself - Morgan Freeman

[Ash NrahkParticipant 199]

Thanks for the camp fire and the tale solider medic.
Maybe its the weed but I can picture the setting like I’m right there.

Never married but it was so so close. Just starting to realize how lucky a man I am.

[EyeswideopenParticipant 2930]

Soldier-Medic wrote:

And as my wife was trying to inexorably demonstrate to me that I was not longer a person, she managed to shoplift enough DNA during a couple of couple sexual dry spells to reproduce twice so she could ensure her status as wife AND mother.

This tale sounds oh, so familiar. I can empathize 100%.
This is the basic chemical reaction of most relations; I have discovered.

Sociopath = Idealization–> Devaluation–> Discarding

Devaluation = Sexual dry spell—>Procreation–>Sexual dry spell–>Procreation–>Sexual dry spell–>Disinterest++–>Gaslight–>”It’s all your fault”, “ILYBNILWY”, “I’m not happy” etc…

Mine was on steroids; imploded in less time then a car lease. Luckily, my love of hot-tubes seemed to have foiled her plans – no children. I am having a drink in your honor.

- Marriage is described as an institution. You would have to be crazy to be commited to it. -"If you want to live a happy life, tie it to a goal. Not people or things" Albert Einstein

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