23rd of September 2000
Just thought I'd send along some words from one
inspiration of mine to another. Be
with your beloved desert. The serpents of paradise know the mornings are all the
sweeter in the knowledge of what the afternoon is likely to bring.
"The mornings are bright, clear and calm. Not until
the afternoon does the wind begin to blow, raising dust and sand in funnel-shaped
twisters that spin across the desert briefly, like dancers, and then collapse --
whirlwinds from which issue no voice or word except the forlorn moan of the elements
under stress. After the reconnoitering dust-devils comes the serious wind, the voice
of the desert rising to a demented howl and blotting out sky and sun behind yellow
clouds of dust, sand, confusion, embattled birds, last year's scrub-oak leaves, the
husks of locusts, bark of juniper..." -- Edward Abbey - Desert Solitaire
21st of September 2000
If you shut your eyes and listen closely, you can
hear whispers on the wind. But if you plug your ears and look real hard, you get
wrinkles in your face.
FullMoonWebs hits the Net with color and flair. Nice Kitty.
19th of September 2000
Not feeling well at all. New medication caused
every side-effect known to man. Stopped it yesterday, but still floating through
the blood stream. An impolite reminder that medical science is, after all, just
science. Now I'll be gun shy about trying something else.
17th of September 2000
Human struggles have a way of putting this virtual
reality into perspective. The following appeared on the
IB Community Forum.
I will probably never know whether my emailed response (also below) helped this
Malaysian brother, but it was a stark reminder that there's a lot more important to
think about than who's copying who.
[Him] I was a Heroin addict. I am sober for almost 2
months now. Sometimes I have terible craving for drug, what should I do?
[Me] I must have hated myself. Night after night I sat alone in my room. The television
or a good book was all I needed. This was before the Web, so I hadn't yet discovered
the joy that can bring. Oh, and I drank.
That's what I did. That was my life.
I drank from the moment I got home from work until I passed out. And I did it in my
room with the door closed. I didn't have to face other family members who would
hassle me. I didn't drive somewhere to endanger others. I just sat in my room and
drank. It's all I knew.
I never bought myself any new clothes or neat gadgets
to play with. I gave all my money to my wife so she would leave me alone. I stopped at
the public library every week to get some new books to read, but that was about all I
did for myself. I rarely ate. See why I must have hated me?
And I hated who I
was. When you've been a drunk for nearly 25 years though, you know no other life. As
much as I wanted not to, I could not not drink. I didn't know how. I didn't know how
to handle day to day crisis without drinking. When that is your crutch, everything is
a crisis. I drank when I felt good, I drank to forget.
I have been in recovery
now for seven years. For every recovering alcoholic there comes a turning point. For
me it was discovering the right place to ask for help. Surprising as it might sound,
that right place is in the midst of other recovering alcoholics. My friends and
saviors are also drunks; sober drunks.
I discovered a God that I understand,
and that understands me. He was always there, I just didn't look. I ask him first
thing every single day to help me not to drink. When I go to bed at night, I sincerely
thank him for allowing me to have another sober day.
My life is wonderful.
My hands don't shake when I eat soup. I am not sick every morning. I have learned to
intuitively handle situations that used to baffle me; with my mind and not a bottle.
My family and friends value my presence, and I theirs. I love and am loved.
I've been presented the God-given gift of a second life. Not everyone gets that chance
and I know not to blow it. How could I? Simple, just take another drink. I don't have
to do that today because I finally know how to live life on life's terms. For that I
am eternally grateful.
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Jon is working at the lumberyard, pushing a tree through the buzz saw, when he
accidentally shears off all ten of his fingers. He goes to the emergency room.
The doctor says, "Yuck! Well, give me the fingers, and I'll see what I can do."
Jon says, "I haven't got the fingers."
The doctor says, "What do you mean, you haven't got the fingers? It's 2000. We've got
microsurgery and all kinds of incredible techniques. I could have put them back on and
made you like new. Why didn't you bring the fingers?"
Jon says, "Well, Doc, I couldn't pick 'em up."