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Norwegian
Trad climber
the tip of god's middle finger
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Topic Author's Original Post - Mar 2, 2013 - 05:47pm PT
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my (mis)understanding as presented
here is all cute and catchy, so i hear.
i wobble thru; gave up on peace and serenity long ago.
my back aint broke (big mike)
my front aint broke.
it's my spirit that's destroyed.
the top don't connect with the lower.
my head and heart don't communicate.
my feet are on their own.
im falling all over these places,
much to the entertainment for those whom don't rely upon me.
for those whom do need my solid presence,
they are diserviced.
it's not my fault.
it's all my fault.
i just make sense,
as i can swallow it.
i've done everything right,
except to live life.
unfortunately, my merry is incompatible with
those whom practice sanity.
my wife has calmly told me
that she made a mistake befriending me,
and that she discredited the universe by making children with me.
im a walking mistake, in her life.
im an ongoing hardship, for her.
and, according to her, for my children.
i mean, i bust tail, running two desperately dissimilar
companies (one engineering and one tree-service)
so i bring home sporadic bread,
but im a liability to everyone around me's smile.
im gonna continue to push on against the falling
fragments of my shattered life;
im gonna keep on giving to everyone;
im gonna keep on sweetening (as i know how) those
realities adjacent to mine.
im good with disaster.
it fits me well.
the fighting animal within me
has been stirred.
it's broken the unbroken chain,
and is thrashing about it's grotesque
head in philanthropy.
don't you dare weep for me,
or shed a concern.
spend those emotion upon something that matters.
don't you dare give me encouragement,
or advice, or seeds to wildflowers;
these things i can't translate.
im walking lonely miles,
me and my foot fungus'.
we're happy, as we understand it.
rehabilitation of my spirit is
unwarranted.
the doctor only prescribed more pain.
so i listened to 5 hours of opera
to kick off my demise.
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Brandon-
climber
The Granite State.
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You and me both, pal.
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Reilly
Mountain climber
The Other Monrovia- CA
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Weeg, put her on the phone, we'll point out the obvious to her for you.
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Kalimon
Trad climber
Ridgway, CO
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Don't fret amigo . . . we are as a species a bit of a disaster for the mother Earth herself. You are one with everyone, for better or worse . . . we all share the same emotions and feelings. We forget, in our imagined isolation, that we are all part of the collective whole and as a result end up feeling separate and sometimes hopeless. We must not despair . . . just need to dig deeper and smile. Share a smile with someone who is blue.
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hobo_dan
Social climber
Minnesota
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It's all part of it
No pity but wishing you a healthy healing
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canyoncat
Social climber
SoCal
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Stop being a damn drunk. Problem solved. Poetic musings do not absolve you from the fact that your kids deserve better.
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Brandon-
climber
The Granite State.
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Hey, cheer up!
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Jim Clipper
climber
from: forests to tree farms
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Should this be the Saturday afternoon posting while drinking beer thread? If it helps, there is a tree in the backyard that needs to come down. I'll be in south lake until my Monday. I got a quote for 250 for the lodge pole pine and 50 to remove some other branches around the chimney. Its last minute, but may be better than Sunday morning, johnny cash, and PBRs. At least, for the domestic peace you are welcome to come up to drink beer. Finally, if you sell wood and it would make the trip more worthwhile, please let me know.
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Brett
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rick sumner
Trad climber
reno, nevada/ wasilla alaska
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Suck it up brother
buck it up
engineer that internet commute
let the caustic waters of life roll off your back
keep your balance on the razors edge
your path ascends never to falter
below you lies the unspeakable abyss
your children and wife to see none of this
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Jim Clipper
climber
from: forests to tree farms
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I overheard chongo talking about ghost riders in the sky. I always liked the one below too. That and anything with June carter. Mmmmm Hot country women.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Drinking a beer and enjoying some mountain air. Hope all is more quiet on the home front.
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telemon01
Trad climber
Montana
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Weeg, your foot fungus is from all the yeast in your body, which, of course, is from all the beer you drink.
If you had a vagina (and with all your complaining I sometimes think you do), you'd be itchy "down there".
I love your poetry and insightful reflections, but you are stuck on repeat.
There are only so many ways to say "poor me".
Angst has no boundaries; time to move on.
I know you won't be offended- you seem the type that appreciates candid conversations.
Peace, brother. Thanks for the honesty. I hear the weather in your neck of the woods is awesome right now.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Something tells me the Weej is larfing to us
The same as a bark beatle
Watching an ant lion colony and an ant's nest communified by naturality
"Ah sure got them for company here and they are nice to care but they can't understand the seeds of my pining so I'll let em stay thinkin I'm too dumb to know sh#t about yeast and which way my wind bloweth--it's entertaining and no harm no foul"
Venting
Blowing
Exhausting his lungs
He's finally ready for another yank on his chain by yanking ours
Get it
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10b4me
Boulder climber
Somewhere on 395
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^^^^^ now that's funny
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kennyt
climber
Woodfords,California
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HEAVY
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Norwegian
Trad climber
the tip of god's middle finger
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 3, 2013 - 02:18pm PT
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yuck i hate my public tantrums
pasted on the internet.
oh well, life is wiley as we make it.
thanks for the ears, and key taps, folks.
definitely i want no sympathy,
im merely experiencing accountability for my actions.
i invite everything, good and bad, that finds me.
it's not so much the substance abuse that has
my relationship off belay,
it's merely environmental pressures compounding, at once.
my mother-in-law, who my wife is extremely close with,
is transitioning into the aspect of her life where
she is dependent on her children (and her children's spouses.)
this is an item of consternation between my wife and i.
she is endlessly giving, to the point where our time
and resources are compromised.
i am, more or less, saying,
give her basics and nothing more.
for we don't really have that much to give, as we are strapped ourselves.
so we're navigating such struggles,
and my absurd "poetry" (as you all refer to it)
comes out in manic droves and my wife
is put off, to say the least.
anyway, time woke up this,
so did i.
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Norwegian
Trad climber
the tip of god's middle finger
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 3, 2013 - 02:27pm PT
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my words impover'sh my sorrow, ron.
that's their monetary reward.
i chase away the demons with reckless, manic,
sometimes depressed, sometimes forced, sometimes inspired prose.
i couldn't sell them,
because then their roots would die,
and their leaves would fall off
and then i, being a logger,
would hire myself to fall the
monumental stump that once
exchanged atmospheric waste
for our breathing gas.
i like the disasters, i do.
i well spent my angst yesterday
on a rope-solo binge that had a tough time quitting.
plus i met a couple of 'topians up at the loaf,
some i gave my beers to,
and the others i met
right at dark, and loaned them a headlamp as
we together marched back to the depths of reality.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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The ring is the thing.
The one thing.
Made from two.
Good on you, NorgDorg.
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Wayno
Big Wall climber
Seattle, WA
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What a dork. Pull out of yourself and realize you are not alone. Ever.
Disaster is True Neutral.
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