I'm having a really hard time with life this morning.
I hate the fact that I have to hide who I am.
I guess I should be thankful that I am not one of what I call the blissfully unaware people.
Those severely mentally ill people who think that they are perfectly normal. No, they are delusional. They think everyone else is sick!
That constitutes in my opinion, at least 98% of mentally ill people.
The other 2% are like myself, completely bat sh!t crazy, but completely aware of my own insanity.
I can blend in with the best of them.. Hence my brother's assumption that I am a tick tock.
I'm only dangerous to myself.
I absolutely hate myself.
Time for my morning walk.
Wish me luck!
No sense hating ones self. Hate only evil,which you are not....
Can you help me with distorted allegory?
Brace yourself for a long read.
Having been denied the walk I had in an earlier life I depend at times on wheels and tires.
We have mastered the wheel. Tires not so much maybe.
I possess seven (?) flat wheelchair tires this day. One flat tractor tire. A soft golf cart tire , and one out of round golf cart tire.
I know enough about inner tubes to curse them. Through trial and error there are the occasional successes with replacing one without pinching it so bad it leaks.
Then pump away. Usually with about a foot long bicycle pump. Other times with a standard pump.
A fairly generous amount of time on a trip to Canada and a thinnest thorn causing a leak with a hundred pound pressure to fill a tire resulted somehow in my not having 40 inch biceps.
So why tubes in wheelchair tires instead of foam filled ones? Are we crazy?
Tried one foam filled set. Not too bad a result. A learning thing perhaps.
One model chair was/is developed through free sourcing (a marvelous concept worthy of embracing for general inventiveness to benefit less fortunate folk) that is designed for third world countries where service of chairs is not common.
Thus standard bicycle tires are used. And the accursed tubes. Yet standard bearings found mostly worldwide . A sound concept.
My experience with a bike shop once one was located at a distance (yes , still Michigan) was looked forward to as the solution. The clouds parted , a beam of sunlight illuminated the shop and a heavenly chorus harmonized on a single note......
Then I went inside.
Sat on the floor and watched a fellow wage battle with tubes. When instructed to inflate them to a hundred pounds he cringed and insisted such was not a good idea with such narrow tire beads. My pointing out the tires themselves indicated such did not encourage him so, I later used the tiny pump as usual.
Want to roll? Then expect to pump. Till you(I) learn how to fill with foam ,or acquire and install inserts. But it is do-able. Right?
Now to the allegory of sorts.
My brains files are in cabinets on wheels , with tubed tires. Only room for one cabinet in front of my minds eye.
The flustered little guy in charge of files has to wheel the current cabinet into the closet , and then wheel out the cabinet with the current desired topic/thought in it.
When a cabinet is called up and has a flat tire the little guy in charge who now we find through our hearing has a kind of off color gregorian chant going on as he pumps is not amused.
About the time he has the cabinet ready to roll , another two have been called up.
Now his chant is more off color and he either pulls the last called for cabinet after shoving the one he "fixed" back into the closet , or shoves it in front of the "eye",or the most recent called for one has a flat tire too and he kicks it and goes out for coffee.
How do we fix those flat tires in my mind that create wheel chocks in front of forward thinking momentum?
And what about the flustered little guy running the show who's method of coping when things are rushed in an inefficient operation (in his opinion) is going out for coffee?
