“Fools learn from experience. I prefer to learn from the experience of others.” · 12:32am Feb 19th, 2020
Hello, my reader. I think the time has come for me to talk about something very personal. Otto von Bismark, the Iron Chancellor, has this quote you see above. By my own admission: I am a fool. Be warned, this one isn't for kids, you ain't going to sleep better from knowing this.
If you've been reading me very intently, you know that there's a war in my country. My war started long before this one did.
I started on the unlucky side of life. Born in a third world country to a soldier. My Father is a combat veteran, twice. The bad part is that soldiers on my side of the planet are nothing like those cool guys you see on the TV. Being a soldier here was nothing honorable back then. People looked down at you. To them, you were a symbol of oppression, a relic of old in need of deconstruction. And with all of that, I managed to get born to one of the best soldiers I have ever seen. Including our modern war heroes. My kind of luck for you. Doesn't get better from here.
My dad is a real-life action movie hero. Just like they picture them: a 2m tall brick in uniform. Back in the army, my father had a reputation of the force of justice, no less. Every single officer in his unit was afraid of him. Every time anyone treated his platoon unfairly, he went ahead and sent the guy to the infirmary. He was punished every time, of course, but each time he honestly endured it, no wiggling.
Eventually, the officer core got fed up of him and sent his sorry ass to the nearest hotspot. He's been through some real scary shit out there. Lives matter very little in general, but the lives of soldiers matter even less. The media picture very often has more value than a soldier's life, especially around my place.
Father's particular hotspot had real bad national tenses. The people there were literally killing each other on the streets. Imagine having to hold back two crowds of angry hillmen armed with machetes, hunting rifles and knives while being unarmed (cause we can't have peacekeepers shooting at civilians, now can we?), sounds like a job for my old man. And he managed, he got back in one piece.
Does this sound crazy to you? Well, wait for a bit. You'll know crazy soon enough.
For now, I ensure you that the story is almost certainly true, everyone in the family says exactly the same thing including my mother. Back in a day, you could take your family with you to the place you are stationed at, she saw my dad's deeds with her own eyes and she would have no reason to lie.
So, here's where I come in. Growing up with a dad like this is no joke. Veterans aren't the people who just went to war and came back. Veterans bring the war home with them.
Kids are always smarter than you think they are, I always knew who my dad is. From day 1 I knew that getting the dad angry was going to end real bad. I could tell because I saw how people treated him, everyone kept the distance at all times. Like they could sense he's dangerous. Even the people who knew him always kept out of arms reach. Human perception is fascinating, really!
So, for me stealth was the way of life, attention meant danger.
To my Father's credit, he never beat me. He was never dumb enough. You see, hurting kids is very stupid. Kids, eventually, grow up and go ahead to thank everyone for what they gave. He knew full well what he would do to his own dad if he ever dared to beat his sonny. Like father like son.
That didn't stop him from beating the people I loved though. Mother was the primary target. She was no match, didn't have a spine to do anything about it. Luckily, I did.
I was afraid of my dad, that's sure as hell. But I was even more afraid of seeing my Mother hurt. I figured out by then he wouldn't hurt me, so I used it against him. Whenever he had a bad mood, I stood in between them and told him to go through me first. He never dared. I was 8.
Later he would come to tell me he's proud of me for being this brave. Like father like son. I suppose he had some honor after all.
Well, I suppose at this point telling you that I never had any friends wouldn't be a surprise. With a dad like that, you are bound to be wildly different from every other kid around. Even in the adult world, those who aren't like the rest get it tough; kids always have it worse. At school, I was beaten up almost every day until grade 8. I deserved it though, I was a mean little bastard.
I wasn't beating anyone, the Father was a really good example of what I should never be like. I was real mouthy though, if I had a problem with someone I told them straight. I had many problems.
Nobody liked it and they soon banded up against me. I enjoyed watching them trying to get me to shut up. There was absolutely nothing they could do scare me into submission, which pissed them off even more. They had no idea what the real fear is. I was never afraid of physical pain either, no beating can compare to what you feel when you see the only person you love being hurt. Whenever they have beaten me, I just got back up and told them to try harder. Like Father like son.
Back at home things got even worse, if you can imagine that. My Mother finally broke. I found her with her hand sliced in a pool of her own blood sitting in the kitchen. I wouldn't have it, so I got her back together. Things were never the same, though. I knew I couldn't let her slip out of my sight for long now. I was age 10 and I was already responsible for someone's wellbeing and life. That's responsibility for you. You don't choose it, you don't get any solemn vows, one day it just drops on your head and that's that. You can either shoulder it or be responsible for people getting hurt... or dead.
For a while, I did a good job. I saved her ass one more time by pulling her from under a car racing down the street and things kinda eased up a bit. My dad quit drinking and stopped beating my Mother real bad. My Mother picked up drinking instead. That was my line. I could tolerate almost anything from her, but not this. It felt like a spit into the face, after everything I did for her. We both suffered on the hands of a drunkard for so many years and now she was going to force me to watch her descend to the very bottom of life.
She lied every time when she said she loved me, you don't make the people you love suffer. Especially that bad. From that point, I stopped treating her as family either. I could do nothing more for her, so I had to protect myself at least.
My carefully nurtured survivalist mentality dictated the only possible course of action. I severed the ties as much as I could. It stopped hurting.
From that point, I figured I was now alone. It was kinda liberating, actually. I didn't have much trouble with being alone at that point. I didn't need anyone, especially since there was nobody around remotely trustworthy. So, with only having myself I turned to being selfish. After all, If anyone had a single right to have some self-love it was me.
For a while, things went fine, as much as they could anyway. The bastards at school even started to grow fond of me. In grade 9 they finally figured there's more to me than just a razor-sharp tongue. From an outcast, I turned into a celebrity. Every kid around started to listen to every word I say. They knew that I was either going to say something really smart or real funny. The hardship sharpness the sense of humour, though it, eventually, becomes jet-black. At times of war, dismembered corpses legitimately become funny.
Hope they never become funny for you. If you can laugh at that, it means your life sucks.
The last few years at school were as close to happy as I could have. With the Father finally getting the hell out of my sight and people at school learning to value my experience, I allowed myself to relax. Fate wouldn't have it though.
With spare time came questions. I had many questions before, you can't afford to have illusions with a life like mine, but my questions mostly concerned my survival, not anything empirical.
Now I had a real big and important question before me: the hell is wrong with me?
Life taught me not to expect anything good besides the good I do for myself, but I discovered that I could do nothing more for myself either. I lived through a lot of crap and things became somewhat ok, but I still wasn't at peace.
One of the real good things you get from knowing the real meaning of life is that you learn the value of tender sides of it. I could make it alone, no problem what so ever. I was already much tougher than most adults will ever be. The question was: Why?
I learned from bitter experience that being selfish wasn't paying. In fact, I was more miserable than ever. Back in a day I at least had a purpose. It hurt, but I knew that it had to be that way.
Now though, there was no point in suffering. The problem that I faced is that I couldn't do anything about it. I knew I needed people, but there were several issues with that. First, I relationship is always two ways. You give and you get, and I had nothing to offer besides my experience. Which has limited uses. Nobody wants to know how to survive, people want to know how to live.
Second, I found that I become so reliant on my rigid self-discipline and control that I could no longer let go. I simply wasn't functioning without them. I would die.
Each person has something which drives them to live. For some, it's love, for other's wonder. For me, it's willpower. I force myself to live. Everything that undermines my willpower literally erodes my will to live.
I was searching, but I found no reason to live. Life was endless suffering with no way out for me. Forced to watch others being happy knowing I can never have that. The worst torture I know to this day.
For some years I endured with my own sheer stubbornness. It always hurts, but surrender was never an option. The war was already raging on so I had something to think about other than I problems. That's when I finally found something worth suffering for.
War is unlike anything you can imagine prior to witnessing it. It's not loud, neither it's scary most of the time. War is very subtle. If tomorrow a war will start in your country and you would happen to miss the announcement, you won't tell the difference. People cling to the usual things in times of hardship, they try to make themselves believe it's ok when it really isn't. They avoid talking about it and they don't want to hear about it. That's a coward's way of treating it.
About 10% of the total population embraces war. They gear up to fight. Not all of these people are military, but all of them are soldiers. If they can't fight, they will donate equipment like gas masks, first aid kits, thermal sights and other stuff the money can buy.
A country entering a defensive war is one of the most inspiring things you can witness in your life. These 10% make all the difference in the world. Suddenly, people who would tear each other throats out in political debates suddenly drop everything and go to the trenches. Together.
It feels like everyone around you has the same intention and purpose. Unbelievable feeling.
As paradoxical as it is, the war fixed more things than it broke, both in my nation and myself. I learned a lot from it. Not just bad things too.
War taught me to love art and to understand what value there is to be found in a certain TV, amongst other things. The war is the reason why you have the questionable pleasure of reading this.
I knew about you lot at least since 2012, but I never took an interest, I have seen a lot weirder things than adults loving cartoony ponies.
What made me see was your art. Specifically the music. One day I randomly stumbled on one of your songs on the Tube. I immediately knew that what I found was no coincidence. I started researching and the more I learned the more at awe I was. You lot defy everything I learned about humanity so far. And you have no idea how much I love being wrong about the world.
Simply observing you lot is a huge sooth. At the time of me writing this simply being around and witnessing what the collective fandom has done has taught me enough to finally have a margin of peace. It still hurts, it always will. But now I can have solace in knowing that there are things worth living for in this world. Even if I can only have a fraction of the whole thing.
I thank each and every one of you for teaching me what these things are. For simply existing.
This is what I am here for. I don't think I can ever repay for everything I learned during my short time with you, but I will do what I can. You love stories, don't you? Then stories you shall have. This one thing my knowledge and experience are useful in their entirety.
My reader. I am sorry for making you sit through all of this. But I can offer you little more than my experience in one form or another. I ask you to forgive me for any mistakes I may have left unedited, this was very hard to write and is even worse to read.
I don't want your pity. Pity is pointless. If you wish to honor me in any way: learn from my misadventures. This is the only meaningful honor you can give me considering our positions.
“Fools learn from experience. I prefer to learn from the experience of others.”
Life is hard it's never easy but we get throu it that's all I can say I'm never good at commenting or with conversations. Also what vid on YouTube.
5205838
Thanks for that I suppose. Usually, people just shut up when they hear a word of the extremity of crap I've been through. Kinda makes it feel even worse.
5205861
I'm sorry if I made you feel bad
5205864
No, I meant the opposite. The worst thing is when people have nothing at all to tell you. I'll take whatever I can have.
5205867 oh ok well I hope you have a good day
5205888
Thanks. I hope you have a better day than mine.
............wow. This was......fascinating and amazing to read.
I'm gonna say this right now--you sound like an incredibly strong person. This story has me practically speechless.
(And here I am, sitting in comfort, with a life as easy as it gets. Really puts things in perspective.)
5205962
Yeah, it does add a certain perspective. This was the whole point.
But I still have to say: you are wrong. I am not "strong", I am unlucky to the point where being "strong" is a survival requirement. You can do the same, believe it or not. I wasn't born "strong", there were times when I was quivering over the darkness in my closet. I am "strong" because I chose to be. I refused to sit put and watch the person I care about getting hurt. How? Simple, just as I wrote: it scared me more than my dad.
None of the people here were born strong, some just have a natural spine while others need to build it up. Why do you think the most reasonable and progressive times only start when a war ends? Because war forces people to abandon their non-sensical whines and do something. After it ends, thousands of people, who are brave enough to change a machinegun, end up with nothing to do. These people aren't the kind to lay down and relax, they'll continue doing what they do best: work against any odds.
My Father is exactly like that, after his deployment ended he went on to study programming and proceeded to write air traffic apps for our International Airport. He was that determined.
He isn't a bad person, despite the fact that I can't stand being with him in one room, he simply made a lot of bad choices in life.
I did what was right and you know what I had to pay for doing so. I don't regret it, but I can't blame anyone for refusing. I want this for no one else.
There is only one extraordinary trait I have: my truly awe-inspiring ability to attract some really shitty luck.
Also, I think I should give you credit while we're at this. I won't bore any longer with my spreadsheets. People like me have a purpose. We exist to tell your kind of people what's messed up in this world so you could fix it. I am useful for little else.
God Almighty...you have, such a story. Certainly more experience and wisdom than I believe I ever will hold
5212744
You would be surprised. I would argue that you know no less than I do, about things that matter at least. Different experiences have different values and mine has little. My expertise is survival; the problem is that life, in and on itself, is torture. When you get to know what life is really like you stop being afraid to die.
The real wisdom is not to know how to live through anything your life can bring and know where it can bring you. The real wisdom is to know how to make your life worth living. The proof of the pudding is the eating and the position I found myself in proves that I am no wise man.
5212749
At least you know what to be looking for. Life, is enjoyable for me I would say. There has been pain yes, but nothing like yours.
5213019
That's just it. Knowing what to watch out for is exactly the thing that degrades your life-quality. As soon as you realise exactly how many there are things constantly threatening to ruin your life, you can no longer live with it. You start preparing, just like you would for war.
Bunker lines and trenches do NOT serve to enhance your comfort in any way, shape or form. Does this sound paranoid? Well, that's because it is. Ever wondered why paranoia is such a widespread phenomenon? Simple really. It's useful.
Ignorance is bliss. Everyone who ever learned a single thing about this life will tell you as much. Do not envy anyone's wisdom and knowledge, they themselves are a curse like none other.
5213288
That's an interesting way of looking at it, and it makes sense.
You value happiness and living an enjoyable life.
Here are two things that I want to ask you, one or both may be weird, and one get a bit biblical.
One, have you ever heard of We Happy Few?
Second, if given the choice, would you have not eaten the fruit of knowledge and stayed in the garden?
5215371
You are correct, I do value those things, however not in the way you imply. You see, after you experience some things in your life, you get rewired; you no longer operate in the way you used to, you stop getting some things you used to. That's what growing up is, though I grew a little too quickly for my own good.
It's not like you stop seeing those things as valuable, the opposite, actually; being deprived you start seeing their real value. Those things simply disappear from your life and the first ones to go are those which bring you joy. Thus, you are forced to search for replacements. I found mine, well, sort off.
Don't get me wrong, being me sucks huge ass, but my experience gives me a rare and valuable perspective, an advantage. I get through life by finding applications for my knowledge. This isn't a good way to live, it brings very little happiness, let alone enjoyment; but this gives me a purpose, a reason to live.
I do not regret what happened to me, no; if given a choice I would do it again. People like me are needed. My kind has a purpose.
Let me tell you something else about myself. I am a murder. I killed over 30 000 people by not even moving a finger, literally. The war, I am now forced to wage every single living moment, is my fault.
You see, wars do not get started by people with guns or people in high chairs, contrary to the popular belief. For a war to start, you, personally, need to approve it. Your approval can be conveyed in a verbal, written or in a more subtle way. I am guilty of the third one.
You see, the war wouldn't have happened if I, personally, was responsible. If everyone was responsible. War is a penance, it happens when someone neglects their job. In our case, we all did. You see, we were foolish enough to grow complacent. Our nation is very old, but we never had a country of own until very recently. We, suddenly, getting our freedom back after many centuries of oppression made us believe that we no longer have enemies to fight, naive we were.
But being naive is not our crime, our crime is refusing to look the facts in the face. Our enemy was never hiding his intentions; not like he could, we know our enemy too well to buy any promise we would receive. But we still did believe! Imagine believing a thug pointing a gun at you, while robbing your purse at the same time, who's telling you it's for your own good.
This is unbelievable, this is moronic, but this is how stupid and gullible people really are!
These people died because of me! Because I didn't take interest in anything but my own business! Because I was irresponsible! This is why people like are desperately needed. Someone needs to know what has to be done. Someone needs to shoulder the responsibility. If you neglect your responsibility, a lot better people than you die.
I am many things but I am not a coward, I will not run from my responsibility. I started this war and I will finish it. If I have to fight, so be it. My country has mandatory military service and my term comes soon. If I am to die, so be it. For people like me, there is no reason to be afraid of death, living a life of a coward is a lot worse than dying. Death is a moment, maybe a few years of suffering, life is suffering for decades.
Living with this much blood on my hands is already barely bearable, I want none more. I can't do much, sure, but I can do everything I can and continue on knowing that I did all I could. My conscience would be clean. This is about as much peace and happiness I can hope for.
Mine is a life of duty, it's not a good life, but all alternatives are a lot, A LOT, worse.
So, all of it sounds really bad, right? Think about doing it all yourself. Sounds a bit scary, correct? It's how it's supposed to feel, it means you have something to lose. Treasure it, let the thought of losing it scare you to the bone. Let your fear be a reminder to you to what happens when you forget about your responsibilities.
Responsibility is not solemnly bestowed upon you on some official event, it simply falls down on your head one day. You don't get to choose anything. You can only choose to either shoulder it, or watch people get hurt and die because of you.
I promise: being selfish doesn't pay. You'll want to die real soon if you try being truly selfish even for a little while.
5215448
Usually I am a man of more words than those around me, or at least has a lot to say even if he doesn't actually say it for one reason or another. Yet with you I am at a loss for words. I do not know what exactly to say, I understand you a bit more, as much as I think I can, as much as I ever want to as the only way to understand you more would mean I would have to walk a mile in your proverbial shoes and I think I am perfectly fine with not knowing personally what all of that feels like, and that alone shows me you are right. I am afraid to die, I have feared death for a long time, I appreciate my life, maybe not as much as I should, but I do appreciate it. What you say, strikes a chord. I have always scowled at those who sit by and do nothing, for all it takes for evil to win is for others to do nothing.
5217379
Haha! Well, if I can do anything it's spew words, you are right there. You are wise to be able to tell apart a person who knows what they are talking about from those who just wiggle their tounges. No fraud, crook or politician is going to fool you if you keep that up. Value this trait of yours, it's a very valuable skill to have, my people are paying in blood to learn it. Be wiser than us.
And one last thing. Be wary of your fears. Fear isn't a useful thing to have. Fear is going to kill you if you give it a chance. Death isn't as scary as people think it is, if there is anything in this world you should be afraid of it is failing in your responsibilities. In life, there is justice, a very harsh and morbid one, the one that needs no executioners.
For the whole point of me sharing my experience is so that others wouldn't have to earn their own. My own knowledge is useless to me. There is nothing I can use it for at this point. The only thing I can do with it is to offer to others in hope that they will have use for. Take everything you read and learn from it. This is the only thing I ask of you.
5217470
I do indeed value it, will always try, history is a valuable teacher that few seem to remember the lessons taught, I refuse to let things like this happen if all possible here.
I think I see where you are coming from, and I certainly would not want fear controlling my life. I once had that, far from the worst case, but it did make my life a lot less worth going on. And I do agree on that, there are certainly things that make the embrace of death feel warm instead of cold. I have sort of taught myself to only be afraid of what I can control. I should not fear death as I cannot control it, but I can control when I die, I should be afraid of doing something stupid and reckless that would endanger my life as that is completely avoidable.
I always try and learn. Learning is never something one should stop doing, and I will definitely take heed and learn from this.