Cicero, a famous Roman, had his own beliefs on friendship. Cicero believed that in order to have a true friendship with someone one must have complete honesty, truth and trust. Also, friends do things for each other without expectation of repayment. If a friend is about to do something wrong, one should not compromise one's morals. One should explain what is wrong about the action, and help one's friend understand what is right, because Cicero believed that ignorance is the cause of evil. Finally, friendships come to an end because one person in the friendship becomes evil.
Daily events of life oft times cause us to forget the really important things. Like remembering to let folks close to, know just how important they are. Truly.
Life is a gift from God, what we do with that 'gift is what matters.
Life is a characteristic that distinguishes objects that have signaling and self-sustaining processes from those that do not, either because such functions have ceased , or else because they lack such functions and are classified as inanimate.
My dears, always remember that whatever lands on the pages of this blog are but the thoughts of this old geezer. It is not the 'burning bush' and like most opinions, clearly open to folks tossing off as the rants of a mad diarist. Am compelled to mention this as from time to time the mail received from one of me post makes for interesting reading. After the thought is tossed out there, many land on it and give me a piss for having put it down in print.
Having had a 'near death' experience, this old geezer is well aware of just how fragile the hold on life is. In a tick it can be gone. With loss of life comes the after, being worm food.
Truth be told, the life lived has not been with out challenges. Come to think on, which life has not been without challenges? Part of the journey requires one to pick up a little dirt along the path, even some cuts from a few falls. The real thrill is picking one's self up and walking on.
Right, did it go unnoticed that this old geezer has received his share of knocks as well? Mind, it man seem a little cheesy to tell the whole world of trials, but then that is what I do. Share.
'IT IS THE LIVING OF AND NOT THE LENGTH OF LIFE THAT MATTERS.'
Memories of early years are mixed, they seem to come out or order. I remember the first orphanage, the scene of my first serious abuse. It was there that a priest had his way with me. I could not have been more that 4, and remember very vividly him telling me that were I to tell anyone of the abuse, no one would believe it. It was a mixture of cruel rape and physical hitting to make sure that I knew who had the upper hand. I have often wondered how much the nuns might have known of what was going on. You must remember that nuns had the ability to read minds, or so it seemed, there was nothing they did not know.
I know that I was no the only one subjected to this and after a bit I ran away, forcing my being placed in another Catholic institution, this one run by Christian Brothers. I wish I could report that the abuse stopped but it did not, it continued, with older boys adding their abuse as well.
By the time I showed up at the last Catholic orphanage, I had been well used and all of my sexual tapes were ruined. I had no clue who I was or what 'normal' sex was. It was to remain that way for the rest of me life.
It was round the age of 10 that I knew that I was different...you bloody well know you are different when a picture of a gladiator in a Latin book gets you feeling all gooey. Remember writing letters telling all that I was homosexual. These were not well received and were chalked up to a child being very confused. It should have sounded the alarms but it did not. More's the pity that...
It is my opinion that I would have been bent regardless of how I had been brought up. Truly do believe that. I also believe that had I not been subjected to all of the abuse, my sexual tapes might have been better and I would have had a chance at having a normal sex life, of feeling differently about relationships and trust issues. The whole of my life has been horrid in that area, and there is nothing that could ever be done to correct the damage done.
I was made to believe that I was nothing...should have prayed to God daily that the Catholic Church had taken me in and provided me with life. I am thankful for the education received, am thankful for my personality being developed to know that I had to strive hard to be some one in this world. I am also very lucky that I learned that the devil was out there, in different sizes and shapes, and I knew how to spot. No one was going to do anything for a pretty little boy unless there was evil attached to it.
My beginning in life was horrid. I overcame much. I look round at the folks round me and wonder if they are luckier than I was. They had a home, attended school and are not locked up behind walls. But were they loved? Is it possible for folks who abuse drugs, sell drugs, abuse alcohol, or have become life long benefits cheats to be 'all that they can be'?
It is nothing to brag about, being raised in a series of orphanage, but there were some wondrous things that came out of it. I was taught the value of a good education and there were some events that stand out as being special. As a child I was sent away to summer camp in the summer. Got to ride horses, play in forest, and swim in lakes. I always got fed and there were clean clothes. Right odd that along with the abuse suffered, there were religious folks teaching values to....talk about the good, the bad and the ugly. I was thrown out into the world too early, 16 is not a good age to be set out in the world, I was completely unprepared. That will have to be a story for another day...
The biggest lie bought into most of life was that this old geezer had no value, was unwanted and unloved.
Have said before that I am the sum total of the experiences I have had the whole of me life. Many call me a prude, due to not liking bad language and not feeling comfortable with letting some things all hang out. I want to tell you a strange tale that might give you some idea of how my tapes were ruined, or coloured, by the good nuns in the institutions.
At the first orphanage, we had bath days, all of the boys put on bathing trunks and entered a large room that had rows of shower heads hanging from the roof of the room. At the very front of the room would be a nun, a woman, sitting in what can only be called a 'life guard chair', high enough so that she could see all of the boys in the shower room. She sat and watched as we bathed, making sure that we placed our hand into the bathing trunks to was the most dirty part. How sick is that? What did that do to me head?
At another place, the nuns sewed up the pockets to our trousers, to prevent boys from doing evil things with self. The good nuns would also queue up all of the boys on linen exchange days and one had to hold open underpants to show that there were no poo stains in them. Mind bed linen was also checked and if one was found to have pee on sheets, one was made to wear the sheet for days with a sign telling one and all what they had done.
I am not a perfect person, far from it, I just try to chase away all of the bad memories and replace them with good ones. Hence, the 'rose coloured glasses'. I wonder if that makes me a bad person?
My dears, you got far more of a 'Charles Dickens' type tale than planned and do hope that it was not so down that you will not return for other offerings. I can tell true that most of me stories are not nearly as dark.
Which brings this post full circle, back to FRIENDSHIP...
Truth be told, there are some pretty special people that deserve credit for giving me my 'will to live' back. The old geezer has been much blessed.
Regular 'knees up' this post has been. To be true, it is a wee bit moody. I wanted desperately to put to rest the 'lie' bought into for so very long AND to acknowledge my undiluted pleasure in gifts of friendship received and what follows.
I have not always been the perfect 'friend'. I have pushed away so many who would have been very good for me to have round in life. However 'outgoing' I am, it is not entirely a true picture of me. There is much kept private. Friendship requires trusts. I am not the most trusting person.
There are not a massive number of friends in life. What friends there are seem to like me and accept me regardless of flaws.
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