Rain Man part: Deux

I believe it’s pertinent here that I produce a second half here to better explain how my writing is going to be, a passage into what I go through everyday.

I say this because this is nothing more than a storage tank that my thoughts are placed in after they have been funneled out of my head and dropped onto the keyboard.
I made the claim that I have zero grey area, so when I write one of two things happen which may confuse or mislead you the reader, into thinking that I may not see the other side of the token, but alas this is far from the truth.
I can, per-say think in grey, but the way it comes out becomes jaded and ends up being either really nice or really mean, and/or really clean or really nasty, sweet or naughty, I’m thinking you’re starting to get the idea.
BUT, it gets more complicated than that, just like when I’m idle driving in my car, or sitting out back and having a coffee and smoke, really anything that leaves my mind to not be challenged is when the thoughts start to swirl in my head, and cause this lack of focus, everything runs rampet at an alarming rate.

When I was a child I was a huge dispensary issue upon my parents, in first grade I was so head strong on not wanting to go to school I wouldn’t put my clothes on, so my dad shoved me in the car, where I stayed on the floor board, and took me to school.
When we arrived, him and a school counselor pulled me out and left me in the entrance hall way for everyone too see me sitting there, thinking that I would eventually be embarrassed enough to get dressed and go on to class.

After months of issues, my parents finally reached out to some people at the University of Houston – Clear Lake for some testing, months went by with testing after school, brain activity, reading and comprehension, focus, skills, just a bunch of stuff, some of it I can’t remember or have blocked out.
What they came to the conclusion was that I had ADHD, which was why I was spooled up all the time, didn’t want to focus, and seemed very disinterested in everything, they put me on several new to the time drugs to see if they could get me back in check.
The result were something my parents didn’t seem to like so they took me off them, and for the most part just let me do my thing.
It was a struggle for them, and me as well, I hated school, I didn’t act like all the other kids, this led to getting bullied, beat-up, called names, and more time in the principal’s office getting pops for being a mischievous brat, like blowing out the lights one day in Jr High school, I got suspended for that one πŸ˜›

So now that I have ruined my persona where I grew up and made it difficult to have a few friends, and my unbecoming behavior, I was able to talk my parents in to sending me off to private military school, yeah I can hear you mind now, “Yeah that’s going to work out like a turd in the punch bowl.”
Believe it or not, that was the actual fucking ticket right there, the was the beginning to the fix (that was not known to me for many years), and the radical acceleration change in my mischievous behavior to experimental stage.

At home before I left, I lived in a small Quaker town where I grew up, there wasn’t more than about 4000-5000 people there, you could walk to school, ride your bike all over town, it was a safe place to grow up actually, IF you didn’t fuck up your reputation, which I did.
It was clickish, if you weren’t “In” you were out, sure I was one of the “Space Kids”, my dad working for NASA, but we weren’t on the upper end of the pay scale, so I didn’t have all the cool clothes and stuff, so I was on the “Out” side of the school, fine I’ll take the batton and run, a guy I hung out with, Steve Miller (NO, not that guy, sheeesh) used to steal cigarettes from his mom, Yup! you guessed it lets smoke to be cool, but before that, and closer friend I had, that I met in 5th grade, had an older brother that played drums, and smoked pot.
Trust me here, as tough as it is to tells stories, I will do my best to make this get to a point (this is why I’m writing this).
I went to the dark side, so-to-speak to get my affirmation from my classmates, they smoked, they smoked pot, and did coke, so I can be cool like that too.
Shit it all just back fired, I would up being the guy that smoked pot by himself as I walked home for lunch, smoked more and when to Mrs. Singleton’s health class to sit on the lab tables and scoff at the drug movies she was showing us. Don’t do drugs kids, LMFAO!!

Ok, by now you may have noticed that things drift with me, that’s right, over my many passes around the sun, I have gone from ADHD to ADD.
There are two reasons for this, in military school I had, structure, but I also had a roommate, and another small group of people that I hung out with, where we got high, I realized that things were more detailed, colorful, abundant, and warm, it made time slow down and I was able to collectively gather my thoughts and arrange them, FOCUS, yes I was able to Focus!
So not only did I enjoy getting high, but it allowed me to finally get he train back on the tracks, and I would do stuff without the “Squirrel” affect happening.
Ah but alas, this hanging out with a bunch of stoners also brought my road to several twists and turns that took me to the house of cocaine, Mmmmmmmmm I REALLY liked that, and a lot, I also went and visited house of the hallucinogenic sisters LSD and Mushrooms, this was mind bending fun and really cranked my mind open to only things you’d see with special effects in movies, both with your eyes open or closed, it was just fucking awesome!!!!
There were a bunch of other things, crank, crystal, XTC, freon, AMP weed, but that was just experimentation and noting I really liked, but I always fell back upon smoking pot.

I need to stop for a second (SQUIRREL) and make a claim to something, I don’t condone these actions, I’m writing to you as a window into my minds eye.
I don’t want you or anyone else who reads this to start running around blurting out that pot is a gateway drug to all the drugs out there, that’s not true, the people that you surround yourself with are the gateway to those things, but I was an experimental extremest before there was such a thing, this is a lot of where I’m trying to go with this story.
So calm the fuck down Margret and let me get on with my gett’n on, and quit trying to make something out of this that it’s not!!!

Damn it! I had to stop go pee and make another coffee have a smoke, and now try and pick up my thoughts where I left off.

So where I was going with the pot thing was that I was self medicating to slow myself down and focus more on tasks at hand, I had found my zen.
I did this for YEARS, I built some beautiful automotive art, I was creative, I had a hobby of scale model cars that I put so muuch detail into.
I set career goals, and met all of them hurling me deep into my career as an automotive technician, assistant department lead in automotive technology of a vocational school, business owner, and developer of a privately funded race series.
Everything was on point I was able to funnel my OCD in a way that everything was parallel to my way of living, I was for a better word normal.

ADD, ADHD, OCD, maybe a splash of autism, I have never research any of these really and don’t really care to actually, it’s too late, and I have learned to deal with what I have or not, and it’s juat a part of me, it actually makes me who I am today.
I haven’t smoked pot in 20 years, society didn’t accept it, it’s illegal, and you can loose your job because of it, and at some point maybe you grow out of it to an extent, I have tried it a couple of times throughout the 20 year dry spell but it didn’t do what it used to, the way I remember, so it’s not a thing anymore, plus it’s a little difficult when your significant other is law enforcement.

This is a interjection here, added during proof reading because I feel it needs to be said; a lot of the problems early on could have been corrected and/or worked with if I had been “Challenged” enough, my attention span was short, they needed to give me something challenging enough to feel curious enough to stay focused, instead the putting me in slower classes thinking that it was going to get the info to soak in, when in fact it made me even more bored.
That was the golden ticket that we all missed, I just wasn’t pushed hard enough to stay busy, involved and driven to do better.
So many things would have probably turn out different if this had been the case, but I guess, back then it never crossed anyone’s mind.
That’s why automotive is my career, it intrigued me, captivated me, held my focus and mainly it challenged me every step of the way.
I’m starting to feel the same way with writing, but is comes with different angles I have to figure out, which is why it’s holding my focus, it’s challenging.

Difficulties with writing and having up hill struggles compounded my a brain that keeps reeling 100% of the time is when I run out of coffee and have to go refill it, bathroom breaks, someone walks into the office, you know distractions, then the brain goes back to reeling and you loose your train of though and where you were, this has happened 7 times while writing this.

I believe I can’t really get a full grasp on the reins of this, so it will be my natural style of writing for me.

There was a radio station at Alvin Community College, were two different sub announcers worked, one had a problem with saying “Ummm” every other word, and the other would cough, the radio director made them full time announcers because the listener’s called in saying they like the unpolished, politically incorrect guys because of their traits, it made them feel connected, they could relate to them.

I’m sure in some way my readers may find my lack of everything grammatically incorrect, run-on sentences, typos, and language to the key point that draws you to my uniqueness that is my writing.
I’m not here to impress anyone, or WOW you with any of my stories, I’;m just going to vomit on my keyboard, and your either going to read it or not, your going to hate it or love it.
Actually I shouldn’t really give a fuck cause this isn’t Facebook.
I do feel like personally I need to divulge my inner workings somewhere, and I guess it will be here.

I’m just another person on this spinning orb that just wants to push words through his fingers, sure I have goals, I always have, and I will obtain them, but with anything new I have to work my way there, they only pay from this is that what I put here is out, and no longer in me, it makes me lighter, it takes some of the clutter away.

One of the writers I follow on here talked about his brain buzzing all the time, and wondered if this happens to everyone, he’s the first person I have ever heard of talking about this, because this is me on a daily basis I really connected with it, my brain buzzes/is reeling all the time, and to get thoughts out of it is like reaching into a tornado and grabbing a piece of debris and figuring out if it’s what you want to write about now or not, or if you should reach in and grab something else.

“We have cow!”
Helen Hunt was fucking hot looking in this movie

See the difficulty with writing and having these issues and tough, distractions, the idle brain time while the fingers are gracing the key board, the brain moving paragraphs faster than the physical body can keep up with the story, all of these will be worked to their maximum here in this venue.

I think the hyper part has left more of my physical portion of me (I only fidget every once in a blue moon) and has moved to my brain, which is why it moves at 100 miles an hour.
It also helps to note that pre-2011 I worked many long days 10-14hrs 7 days a week because I was still pretty hyper/energetic, but because I had a heart attack and the medication that I take fatigues me, compounded by how rough I have been on my physical body (mountain bike racing, doing crazy stunts, a few car accidents, motor cycle riding, lifting more than I should, and in general not doing my body justice) with age this has all taken it’s toll and caught up with me, so everything has moved to my thoughts.
Interestingly my mind hasn’t figured this out, so it still prods me to go go go when my body has just had more than it’s fill, and I feel guilty when I’m not being productive.

I have two people here that he driven me to make this happen, and they are as black and white as writes as I am in one, and more so than that, one who has known me all mu life, but we’ve only started getting close, with the irony that she is on the other side of the globe, and the other who is literally a few houses over and lives in my neighborhood, but has spent countless hours in the day and night with me, as a best friend, business partner, confident, student and we’ve only known each other for a decade.
Their writings are as equal, both have parts that parallel my life experiences, thoughts, feelings, emotions, and ventures.
But one writer uses colorful, gritty, venerable, warm, human like writing, whereas the other is descriptive, sanitary, technical, next level, polished writing, and I love it both.
They involve me both in different ways, and prove my though in area I never imagined, which allows me to reach in deeper each time I write, and forces the focus I demand from myself to get out what I want you as a reader to understand.

Having these challenges it what helps me to understand how I can work with the so called disabilities I have (don’t see them that way), one of my favorite saying is “A challenge is merely an opportunity!)
And I find this as education to my self as all the other obstacle’s I’ve had to over come.
So for fear of rambling once again, and the fact that I actually have some domestic shit around the house to do (mow the lawn, a bunch of time to think), I’m going to run away and drum up more crazy shit in my life to write about next, and let me tell you, there is some crazy shit (ever see a monkey drive and 18 wheeler?).
On a funny note, let me add this, if you ever want to see several different subject matters covered in a short amount of time, and but yet nothing ever really gets resolved, get two ADD people together in one place, and a few beers with casual chat and the amazement of how many things you can touch on subject matter wise is incredible, and it make for a great laugh or two.

This is, Ummmm Radio City USA, (cough), signing off, Umm for now πŸ˜‰

You know I skipped some shit, but fuck it, I’m not writing part three πŸ˜›


2 thoughts on “Rain Man part: Deux

    1. It took a many many years to put all the pieces together, then stand back to understand it all, I’ve figured out 90% of it and really i think that says a lot without help from other people.
      As I mowed today (push mower, not my tractor) I had over 4 hours of idle mind time where for once it was actually calm and sedated like, it was both wierd and comforting like I had reach a new zen.

      Liked by 1 person

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