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The Economy though: How bad is it really?

Two days ago, I was at the gas station filling up my little car. After the gas nozzle clicked, the screen read "$35." How could it cost so much? The big sign above me said it was $4.50 a gallon. I don't think I've ever seen it that high. I remember around the time of the last Iraq war when the prices were going up. People kept asking whether it would go past $4. To my recollection, it got close but never did. Well, now it finally has. Gas prices going up will mean the prices of all other goods will go up because it costs to deliver those goods and the companies don't want to take the loss. Here again is one of those occasions where bad economic news means some people at the top will do extra well as they anticipate each next hardship and adjust accordingly while people at the bottom will see more difficulty. It's not looking good. But how bad is it really? Most people in America still have cars although they're a bit more beat up. Everyone still has shoes....
Recent posts

Addressing an Addiction with Women

       I had an interesting emotional experience today that I want to share. It had to do with emotions I have to do with women.                I have been praying for help with my feelings about women. My sex life, as far as interacting with women in person, is non-existent although I do project at women, fantasize about women, and look at nude women online frequently. I know that it’s a problem and I have felt compelled to address it at various times with little success.                The other day I had an experience where I felt compelled to masturbate and decided to not engage that. Instead of engaging, I felt this feeling of fear come up that I was surprised at and initially ignored. After trying to distract myself away from it, I noticed that it lingered with me with an intensity. So, I finally surrendered to the sense of it. Soon after that, tears began flowing. It wa...

Down in the hole

They handed me a shovel so I began to dig. Everyone else was digging around me. Sometimes we would find these tiny gems. Most of the time it felt like a lot of work for not much reward. One day I saw this bright figure walk among us. I don't think I had seen her before. Everyone stared at me as I walked over to talk to her. Every question I had she seemed to know the answer. But she told me things too strange and too obscure to ever believe. I could hardly comprehend what she was saying, as good as it sounded.   I returned to my area. But soon I started to think about what she had told me. Sometimes I would look up to see the pin-prick of light up in the distant heavens. But it seemed too far. She told me I could build a ladder. She told me I would have help if I just started building. But it seemed too far. "I'll never make it," I thought. And I went back to digging.

Why are you looking at me like that?

      I just finished watching A Streetcar Named Desire. It's about a paranoid woman named Blanche who crashes at her sister's place and tells a heap of lies to everyone around her in order to get their sympathy.     One thing that struck me was, in the midst of the stories she would tell people, when she wouldn't get the affection and validation she was wanting, she would look up at the faces of those around her and notice discord on them. She would then ask with some vexation, "Why are you looking at me like that?"     I know that interaction. I've been in Blanche's shoes many times. I have told stories that I believed were true but weren't. Then I've looked up at the faces of those I was speaking to and wondered why people were giving me such strange looks.     But there is one difference. Recently, when I look at those faces, and I want to know what it is they are thinking, I find that I really do want to know and I'm not just mad that I ...

My own private hovel in hell

     I heard AJ say that we create our own hell. How strange. Why would we create a bad place to live in? How is that possible?     Much of what AJ says sticks in my mind. I have never had any one person say so many things that challenge so much of what I believe. I find myself looking at my life and experiences and questioning things intensely.     Here's one thing I've noticed about myself: I hate  people.     You see, t he problem with people is that, soon after you interact with them, problems quickly arise.     So then I ask,  what would  it be like to live in a world without people? The first thing I would do is raid all the convenience stores.      ...but that would get old quick. Once the animals return to the cities, I would get paranoid with every new sound. Also, I would have to grow my own food. My little fantastical world without people would become a hellscape of fear and hard work...

What do I need?

      Last night in bed, feeling tired enough that I was sure I would fall asleep, I placed my phone on the small pile of 2 books next to my bed side. I wasn't asleep yet so I thought of some ways I could get to sleep without having to think about any pain I feel.     I settled on the tool I often use but hadn't in a while: fantasizing about having money. I have used this fantasy so many times in place of counting sheep. This time, however, I had trouble.     I will sometimes start with: "What if I had $20,000? What would I do with it?" Then I'll go to: "What about a million dollars?" Then I'll sometimes end up with: "What if I never had to worry about money and always had enough to do whatever I wanted to do at that moment?"     This time was different. I thought of how I would get that money. Who would give it to me? I have never been able to conjure up money or teleport it from one place to another. That means that I would have to receiv...

Blind pond

I walked to the pond in the apple orchard to see if it was still there and for other reasons. There are other things I could have done but none of them I wanted to do and it came to the point that I couldn't convince myself of their importance. The pond was there and I tried to remember that I didn't have to be anywhere else and all my thoughts seemed drenched in my surroundings so that I felt a kind of peace. There was no place I had to be, no task I had to complete. I stretched out my hand to touch the top of a dry blade of grass. There was no reason for it, at least none that I could explain. I thought I would find the reason as I did it but even then no reason came. I felt comfort  but suddenly I became afraid of being called lazy. The blade of grass disappeared and so did the pond and all was fear.