Archive for the ‘Dilemma’ Category

It is cold and lonely in here. Locked away, as easy as being thrown away. If there is a God why would he play such a sadistic trick on me… I am the puppet he abuses when he becomes filled with anger and Wrath.

My existence, the reality of my existence so short and insignificant. In the grand scheme of things my life is but a short dull blip when compared to the cosmos.

My life holds no meaning when compared to this. Turning inward I ponder if this is what my short insignificant meaningless existence is. Honestly is this all it fucking is? Will there be anything else… anything more to this shit show?

Here is the face of evil and part of an ongoing blog series recounting the horrible story.

https://coms.doc.state.mn.us/publicviewer/OffenderDetails/Index/254746/Search

 

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https://coms.doc.state.mn.us/publicviewer/OffenderDetails/Index/254746/Search

I was advised to stay quite while as a family we went through hell and back thanks to this piece of shit my daughters life has been changed and damaged by him, and not writing about this has been very difficult. Over time I plan on telling this story although for the sake of my readers I will reframe from posting one long drawn out post. 

If you want to see the predator who took my daughter and I in to his home during a very fucked up time. Mentally I was fucked, all the while this man who was supposed to be my friend and as he called it we are a family like “My two dads.” One of the things that eats at me is he systematically kept me sick and fucked up on purpose to groom my daughter. 

I want it to be noted I am an overly honest person when it comes to writing and the posts to come will be from eyes and I will be painfully open, but out of respect to my daughter any details regarding my her and this douche fuck will be limited to “grooming.” 

I will attempt to unravel this cluster fuck in future posts. 

Behind my children’s eyes
They weep, they cry
Standing by while flowers die
No hope upon this stage
Locked away in my cage
They cry
Regardless of our futile tries
Seeing their eyes
Hearing their cries
Inside I slowly die
To know their pain
Daddy has gone insane
To be the cause, attacking with verbal claws
Suddenly I pause
Realizing a life of lies
Failed tries
All the things which bring tears to their eyes
The fractured parts lay bare to see
Hating myself for being me
With holy sighs
Wishing I couldn’t hear my children’s cries
Stop their tears
Ease all fears
The lies
The fights
Fucking sleepless nights
The lies
Sorrow in their eyes 

I am going to briefly explain three scenarios, as the reader it’s important to remain in the logical mind using the facts to answer a question regarding moral and ethical decision making. There are numerous philosophical doctrines one can use to aid them in making ethical decisions. In order to keep this as simplistic as possible I am going to use Kant’s categorical imperative as our moral compass. When faced with a moral or ethical dilemma is the answer as black and white as in Kant’s categorical imperative, or does morality exist in a subjectively grey area determined by praxeology? 

Let’s examine three ethical dilemmas:

A.) Stealing

B.) Lying 

C.) Murder

I know there are multiple facets and complexitys to Immanuel Kant’s categorical imperative, but to keep it simple let’s focus on the question is it ok for someone to steal, lie, or murder you? I imagine our answer would be no, therefore stealing, lying, and murder is universally wrong. In its simplicity there are no variables to alter or justify this outcome. 

When looking at these dilemmas using decision analysis any variable added creates an action axiom where “If a condition holds, then the following should be done.” Decision analysis is based on the maximum expected utility (MEU) action axiom. The action-axiom is the basis of praxeology, and it is the basic proposition that all humans purposefully utilize means over a period of time in order to achieve desired ends. 

Using these two options is morality as black and white as Kant’s categorical imperative, or is it possible that all moral and ethical decisions exist in a grey area where the difference between right and wrong is subjective depending on the situation. Let’s see what happens when variables are added to our three examples.

  • A.) Stealing in order to feed your family. In this scenario does the categorical imperative trump the action axiom?
  • B.) Your partner asks you if their outfit makes them look fat. Are you morally obligated to answer “yes” or would you use praxeology to determine your answer.
  • C.) Due to the nature and complexity of our final example it requires more detailed information than the other two. 

    I apologize if the details are vague so try to stay with me in your logical mind looking at just the facts. 

    Gary is an “associate” of an organized crime syndicate. Gary did or didn’t do something bad enough to warrent a $5k contract on his life. The moment it was decided Gary had to go his fate has been sealed and Gary is a Deadman walking. His end is as unavoidable as our own, so does the means to his end matter? I am going to use a similar variable as the first scenario. What if the future well being of your family is so bleak you are unable to even meet any of Maslow’s Heirarchy of Needs.

     The only option in front of you is to accept the 5k and murder Gary. You are just the means to his end, if you didn’t do it someone else would. We can deduce that Gary willing chose to be a part of a criminal organization, therefore accepted the risks associated with his line or work. Gary’s life ended long before the trigger was pulled. Despite my foggy mind and poorly explained variables, where do you stand when faced with being the means to end an already condemned man’s life to save your family.

    Graceful Dancing

    Posted: May 16, 2015 in Absolute Truth, Abuse, Aging, America, Anxiety, Arguments, Atheism, Atheist, Bi-Polar, Bible, Blog, Blogging, Books, Brainwashed, Change, Charity, Charity Foundations, Christianity, Church, Community, Confessions, Coping, Corporate Culture, Crisis, Crooked Politicians, Culture, Death, Debates, Depression, Diary, Dilemma, Dreams, Duty of Care, Dying, Elderly, Emotional Abuse, Epic Battle, Ethics, Evil, Faith, Family, Fear, Forgiveness, God, Good, Good-byes, Greed, Grief, Haile Selassie, Insanity, Inside My Mind, Jesus, Journal, Lies and broken promises, Life, Lists, Living in fear, Logic, Love, Mania, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Minnesota, Misc, miscellaneous, Moral Theories, Morals, Motivation, Mourning, Nursing Homes, Opinion, Pain, Personal, Philosophy, Politics, Prayers, Progress, Psychosis, Quotes, Random, Random Thoughts, Rants, Reform, Rejection, Rights, Sadness, Self-esteem, Self-Help, Self-image, Social Debates, Social Injustices, Society, Sorrow, Spirituality, Stress, Suffering, Suicide, Suicide Note, The Bible, The Bucket List Foundation, The Philosophy of Quotes, Theology, TheRandomArtist, Thoughts, Treatment, Uncategorized, Unity, Verbal Abuse, Work, Work Environment, Writing
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    The choice of letting go and saying goodbye is never easy, yet the decision to hold on is even harder. I have let go of hopes, dreams, relationships, redemption and written my goodbyes many times in the past, but every morning I regret my choices and my decisions to hold on… This was the beginning of the post I was working on last Saturday, what was to follow was going to be my final words then swallow every bit of medication I had and finally be at peace. Instead I ended up in the psych ward at Abbot where I stayed until yesterday against my doctors and others advice. I didn’t see the point in staying, all they did was drug me to the point where all I could do was sleep. I was at a crossroads where I knew whether I chose to stay or go I was leaving in worse shape when wen I went in. When I walked out of the hospital and reality came crashing down on me I knew right then and there that I fucked up choosing to go to begin with, yet again regretting my decision to hold on. So I am back where I started but with a bit more inner strength then I had before because I received a mental vacation, but seriously how long will that last? The answer will come in the next week or so as I sit back and see how everything plays out between my job, dream, finances, and relationships. I feel I am at the point where depending on how these things play out will determine my future.

    My life is riddled with mistakes, and regrets each one adding to the greater mound of shit called life. At this moment three key things come to mind, keep in mind this is not in chronological order of importance.

    1. Failing at fixing all the problems at the nursing home I work at to improve the quality of life of the residents I have grown to care for so deeply.
    2. Giving up on my dreams of becoming a writer or an artist.
    3. Not finding redemption for the countless number of lives I have destroyed in my 35 years on this earth.
    4. Not following through with shit on November 26th.

    I think what it comes down to is acceptance. I need to accept that I won’t ever be more than I am right now. I have to finally accept I won’t ever be able to help the residents where I work. I don’t know what’s worse giving up on my dreams or trying to redeem myself by helping people just like me who can’t help themselves. I have done shitty things; I have poisoned and hurt everyone and everything I have ever touched. Many of my poems touch on this concept of being a “virus.”

    For over six years I have worked so hard to make up for all the pain and suffering I have caused by reducing the pain and suffering the residents at the nursing home I work for by the hands and decisions of the very same people who are supposed to care for and safe guard these residents. There are many good hearted people whom I work with who carry this burden of failure, if any of them are reading this they know the deep sorrow and feeling of helplessness of not being able to give these guys the proper quality of life they deserve.

    I have been in business with and covered up things for “business associates” who wouldn’t hesitate putting a bullet in your head, but being involved with and covering up for an employer who is a non-profit and allows vulnerable adults and employees to be harassed mistreated and discriminated against is far worse in my eyes. There are many people at the nursing home I work at who see the same things I see but do not act; as Haile Selassie so eloquently put it

    Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.”

    All of the people involved in my past life and unfortunately as of late too much of my current life chose “the life” and in the end we all end up in one of two places, we deserve whatever end to our means no matter how horrific or painful. Our residents on the other hand do not deserve the means that transpire until their end comes.

    This is my apology to the residents that have come and gone who failed to receive the proper quality of life they deserved. I am sorry that I can no longer continue to fight for the change needed, it is destroying me. My old associates showed more mercy delivering people to their end, than the people I work for now. The people employed by this company who care are used and pushed until they break while the predators are allowed to continue to prey.

    Non-profits are not supposed to be run like a criminal organization where fear and intimidation rule. Non-profits are supposed to be built upon something called “Duty of care.” If any one of the “criminals” who work at this nursing home is reading this let me define what duty of care means.

    “Duty of care is the moral and legal obligation to attend to the safety and wellbeing of those they serve, those who work for them and others who come into contact with their operations.”

    Now to wrap things up there may be some people who do not understand what the title of this entry has to do with the content. Below is a Youtube link of Justin Furstenfeld performing the song “Graceful Dancing.” After hearing his introduction to this powerful song, and seeing the familiar emotions during his performance I decided to check myself into the hospital which drastically changed the content of this post. For that I thank the artist and the person who posted this video.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCFpgfvPGZo&list=PLIWCEQoVmfdHIakN42xTrXYjPnE6I3EHB&index=55

     

    Never Ending Night Frame 3Puppet Master Frame 4

     

    https://www.etsy.com/shop/TheRandomArtist

    Both drawings are limited numbered and signed, and come with a free signed copy of the poem.

     

    Check it out

    There is a place we go

    Where we cannot find light

    Our eyes adjusted

    To our own twisted Plight

    We hide in places

    Live with fright

    Within this never-ending night

    We roam

    We seek

    In search of light

    Mind to fucked to speak

    Within his never-ending night

    We reach our hands up high

    Seeking comfort from imaginary hands

    We find nothing

    Only the pain

    Which never went away

    No end in sight

    Within this never-ending night

    Scream all you want

    No one will hear

    Reality is no one is there

    I seek

    Until my knees are weak

    Reality setting in

    I have traveled nowhere

    Trapped within

    My suffocating box

    I am in this never-ending night

    A feeble prayer

    To a God who was never there

    The time has come

    Within this box

    My mind rots

    No air

    No light

    No hope

    Only madness

    Brought on from my never-ending night

    My cold dark stare

    nothing is something

    Better

    Than living in my never-ending night

    In my hands

    I hold the key

    My only freedom

    Only escape

    From my never-ending night

    One blissful pull

    I enter into the light

    It amazes me how quickly I can be beaten down. How easily I can fall apart. How little I can handle. How easily I can lie to myself. Its borderline delusional laced with denial. Happiness and hope are things I cannot know, let alone ever have. I want the acceptance, of knowing things will never be alright. I want the comfort that comes from embracing this reality. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to think. Life was better when I was dead inside. It is so much better than to continue living a lie.

    Two years ago by happenstance I discovered I possessed the ability to draw, little did I know this singular event would initiate a butterfly effect that would alter my very existence. A major piece of me died when I quit writing years ago, as a result my dream, joy, and self-esteem died. I was sentenced to an agonizing existence; locked away within my own mind. From time-to-time the memory of how I felt during that period where I was pursuing my dream would take over, and I would attempt to return to my passion very little success.  Something which at one point came so effortlessly seemed impossible. As time passed I lost my creativity piece by piece until I had nothing. One of my only sources of inner and outer positive reinforcement was gone.

    Until one day at work mindlessly working the phones I found myself looking at this picture and attempted to draw what I was looking at. To my surprise I was able to produce a near perfect duplicate of what I was looking at. This was just simple line work with no shading or other drawing techniques.  I was so proud of myself I continued to do this working my way up to more complicated and detailed duplicates. In January of this year I completed a drawing I was proud enough of I decided to pin it to my cork board behind my desk. The same day I hung this drawing I started to receive compliments, and positive reinforcement for something I managed to accomplish.  It had been some time since I felt good about myself. This was the only motivation I needed to jump into this drawing thing and seriously work on improving my skills so I could continue to feel positive about myself.

    Between the positive reinforcement, along with the return of my creativity I ended up being freed from the shackles of oppression I had been suffering. As my confidence grew, so did the reality and realization of where I was in my life. I went on a journey of honest self reflection of my life, and who I was. This has been a painful, yet liberating voyage I continue to this day. With a little outside push of extreme hurt and betrayal from someone close to me I was given the final reason to end a horrible marriage, and a real chance to experience a new life. The details behind this can be saved for another time.

    I am amazed at how much my life has changed from then to now. I started selling my drawings, which if I can figure out how to do it I will begin to post them on my blog. I have started writing again; although I have yet to hit my stride where my thoughts can be translated as effortlessly as before, but I continue to make positive steps forward so I can achieve this once again.

    Along with the joy and excitement I am feeling about returning to this blog, the spark to start writing my “Dylan Thomas” children’s book series is alive, and feels like it could actually become a reality. Words cannot describe what I am feeling at this moment. The chance to fulfill a dream I have had since a child has been returned to me, and I intend on embracing this second chance.

    Better Without

    I try so hard

    Not to become my fathers son

    I try so hard

    To be a father sculpted by Michelangelo

    Painted by da Vinci

    Faced with failure

    Endless denial

    Self deception  

    To deny the truth

    I am a father designed by an earless madman

    I question are they better without

     

    Trapped in a Divine Comedy

    Inferno is Alpha and Omega

    I wish there was a cure

    Sadness filled with madness

    Meds cannot take away

    A brain still in pain

    How do you apologize

      When the illness lets them down

    The more I write

    The clearer it becomes

    They may be better without

     

    They love the mania

    Hate the downs

    Flick the switch

    From mania to a ditch

    Turning from this to that

    They never know which dad I’ll be

    Denying them the comfort of stability

    Please don’t let them be better without

     

    What am I then?

    A cancer to my family

    They know I am sick

    They know daddy isn’t the same

    Wishing he was someone else

    Transparent they see what’s inside

    They hate my illness

    Hating myself

    That shame and stain forever remains

    They now question are they better without

    Face-to-face with this question

    Like a coward I hide

    In denial

    My blanket of lies

    I am their painting of a father

    A father my son doesn’t want to become

    The question has been answered

    They are better without

    By: Tim Lundmark

    This is a serious and troubling question I have been asking myself for 15 years; which yields a bi-polar answer. Regardless of the feedback and criticism I have heard over and over again during these same 15 years; I always tried to counter act the negatives with positive self talk. As a parent I have made countless mistakes and bad decisions, which only reinforced the criticism I was hearing. Through the years I have had to face some ugly truths about myself, and come to terms with the fact; I can no longer deny the validity of said criticisms. Like most people in the world I blamed others, and made justifications for my actions. Here is where things get complicated; I have never been 100% sure if everything I just said is reality, my wife’s subjective reality, or both. Up until recently I never really knew what to believe.

    With everything that has been going on, the way I have fallen apart and the undeniable truths I have been shown I can no longer deny the question of if my children are better off without me in their lives. I have touched on this in a prior post, honestly I can’t handle going into detail on how all of these truths have come together. I have cried so much at work recently I can’t try to truly feel through and process the shame and guilt I feel right now.

    In anticipation for the comments I will receive about how important it is for children to have their father’s in their lives; my only reply is they have never experienced living with a father you tried to pray to God would go away. I know this from my ultimate fear of becoming my father’s son, having this fear is proof I would have been better off without. Because of this situation I am fucking them up because I have fallen apart, I am fucking them up because I am leaving, and my wife believes because of my MI, and that I will be on my own the damage I will cause them in the future will be far worse than anything I have done to date. With everything I have done, why would I continue to cause damage to their lives?

    I know how badly I have fallen apart at home, and in all honesty I feel things will get far worse before they get better once I leave. I can’t find any logical reason, to put my children through the coming storm.

    If you look out into emptiness, your world will become empty. If you look at the blessings, your life will be blessed.

    I was reading some uplifting comments a few friends made about one of my recent drawings on Facebook. Despite everything I couldn’t help but smile, and feel good about myself. I started to reflect on how much my life has changed since I reactivated my Facebook account. It didn’t take long to reach the conclusion that this decision literally saved my life. It’s not actually FB that did the saving; it’s the angels I discovered within and the miracles they performed who deserve the credit. I would not be where I am today if it were not for some very special people on Facebook, because I am not sure their feelings on this matter I will not use any names, but I do hope if you are reading this you know this is dedicated to you.

    I was trying to cope with a major crisis, directly caused by the only tangible person in my support system. The only friend I had to lean on lives in Arizona, which made regular communication difficult.  I felt completely isolated and alone. Prior to reactivating my FB account I took a huge leap of social faith, and started opening up to some people at work. Words cannot even describe how awkward and scary this was for me, hell half the time after a conversation I felt like I had just run an emotional mile. I would sit back just praying I didn’t ramble on, and make a complete fool out of myself. If it were not for my newly formed friendships at work, I would have never rediscovered my value and self-worth as a person. They showed me, that with a strong support group I could get through this crisis. They encouraged me to reactivate my FB account to see if I could continue to build on this newly formed foundation. I want to say thank you, for taking the time to listen, and for being nonjudgmental when I couldn’t hold it together anymore and just sobbed.

    To be honest I wasn’t expecting anything to happen once I reactivated my account. I was never the social butterfly, so I was confident there would be no parade welcoming me back into the world. I decided I was going to approach FB the same way I approach my writing…with honesty. I started posting about my chaotic life and how I was doing. I included links to my blog, and posted pictures of my drawings. This terrified me! I was showing the real me, not the fool who wears masks just to be accepted. I was symbolically streaking naked across the FB landscape exposing myself for all to see.

    I never imagined the outcome would be discovering I had friends that care about me. Even though I have not spoken to or seen them in ages, they made it clear they were here for me. I cannot describe this unfamiliar feeling, and how difficult it is for me to believe I am not alone. Between work, and now FB I have been more social in the last month than I have been in fifteen years.

    I don’t think people ever truly realize the impact they have on others. Everyone I have had the honor and privilege of communicating with has made a tremendous impact on my life. During one conversation I learned there are actually woman out there who love comics as much as I do, and in another I had an amazing therapeutic conversation with a complete stranger who happened to be a Christian. What made it beautiful is we were on completely different belief spectrum’s, yet clicked. These are just two examples; I get excited and look forward to every future conversations.

    Everyday I have certain things that I say over and over again to try and stay positive and one of them is this “The part of you that thrives is the part you feed the most.” I owe so much to those who take the time to comment on my art. I don’t think they realize the impact their words have on me, let alone the added impact of who these words are coming from. Sometimes the person making the comment means more than and enhances the comment itself.

    Last Thursday I can honestly say, I experienced true hopelessness. I sincerely could not tell you the last time I was in so much emotional pain. I had given up, and I was searching for viable reasons for why I shouldn’t. I know I said I wasn’t going to mention names, but if it were not for Shawn Johnson I honestly don’t think I would be here today. All of this pain and hopelessness that was eating away at me; he took that shit away and replaced it with hope. There is no way I can repay you; besides letting you know you have a brother for life.

    I don’t believe in miracles or angels, but I am at an impasse trying to find the proper definition to explain these two concepts. I don’t know any other way to describe what has happened since I have opened myself up to friends at work and those on FB besides anything less than a miracle. The only word or concept I can think of to call those of you who are here for me, even in the smallest of ways; are angels.

    Thank you.