Adventures of a Dysfunctional Person

I know I ain’t right, but whatever disorder I have is not in the DSM-5. Maybe someday they will categorize my particular set of symptoms. I’ve never done anything bad enough for them to put me in a cage, but I’ve never managed to keep it together enough to have friends or money or a nice house. Maybe it’s all in my attitude, and there’s no cure for a bad attitude…not one that can be administered via pill or shot anyway.

Sometimes I can fight my undefined disease. Sometimes I even win. I often lose though, and who cares.

Haven’t I written this exact blog post before? …if not on this blog, then on some other blog?

The struggle continues.

I haven’t found enlightenment.

I still yell in my head.

It keeps things interesting.

I am not complaining, I am assessing.

#     #     #

When I visited my hometown this past weekend, I was surprised by how many casualties there were around town:

Police investigate Portsmouth double homicide

Three people were shot outside a popular entertainment venue

Those were just the highlights…the stuff that happened Sunday night, near where I was. I drove past that particular entertainment venue a few hours before all that crazy shit happened. I was out looking for a place to get a quick beer and unwind after helping family members with errands. I drove to Greenbrier Parkway, and I stopped at a place called the Eagle’s Nest. I was in there one time, years ago, when it was still called Chevy’s. That night I happened to look over at this dude, and right at that instant, a fist came from somewhere in the crowd — and crashed right into the dude’s face. The crowd surged: some surged toward the fight, some surged away from it. I just tried to stay on my feet as the waves of people shoved me around. I didn’t go there much after that. Sunday night I didn’t stay there for my wind-down beer. I just peeked around. The place still seemed to have a trouble vibe, so I left. There was this other place, Kelly’s, down Greenbrier Parkway. I used to go there more often. It was always pretty chill in the old days, so I went there for Sunday’s wind-down beer. I drank the one beer and watched a little bit of football. Then I went back to my motel. I’ve stayed at that same motel for years and years…every time I’m in town visiting with my sister. I don’t know why I’m typing all this so I will stop now.


About HappyApathy

It eels what it eels.
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2 Responses to Adventures of a Dysfunctional Person

  1. MrJohnson says:

    Our unrecognized disabilities never get any respect. Attitude is a huge factor in life. Mine has sucked for most of my life and I didn’t make it any better by justifying it. I’m hoping an unfavourable attitude just needs to run its course and die.

    I’m scared of being in close proximity of drunk guys. In the past year where I live, people have been getting suckered punched by random drunks on the street. 10 separate incidents with 3 deaths.

  2. HappyApathy says:

    I don’t know which would be worse: getting shot to death or punched to death. Each would suck.

    I really should avoid watching local news. “If it bleeds, it leads.” . . .

    But…I have to admit…I am as addicted as anybody to true crime stuff…

    morbid curiousity

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