Recently, I gave myself one of those drunken scares that you hear about in movies like This is Spinal Tap in which one of the band members is described as having died by choking on his own vomit. Did you know that blood, when mixed with stomache acids, turns black? A person puking in a toilet would be too drunk to know if they had internal bleeding, but I guess it pays being an amateur toilet puker, for the next morning I found in my dirty laundry black stains I knew couldn't have been the meal I had that night.
I ran to my doctor to see if I was dying (liver problems, or black market organ amputee), but when he reassured me that time would heal me, I felt relieved and fell back to my old self: cold hearted, unfeeling, bitter. There was an entry made in fortysomething in which the questionable society can be attributed to anger in the hearts of people. See Angry world? for actual entry.
I try to be understanding and patient with other's problems, but it isn't helpful, when a person feels a need to relax and takes in a movie, to sit for two straight hours watching a film that contains violence and recreational sex. What do you expect? I happen to be partial to dramas and/or dark romantic comedies, but can you imagine the horror of society if the majority of people considered entertainment to be tragic outcomes of failed love, the heart ache and misfortune of others, and betrayal by those who love you? I don't know if there is a god anymore. I decided not to care when it became all too clear that my non-virtual friends left me behind to raise families. I'm stuck meeting people thru dating services on-line and received an attractive, interested thirty-something year old stuck in Africa and trying to coax me into smuggling a million dollar figure for 30%, a devoted lifetime relationship and possibly the answer to my troubles