When I was young, my elders told me stories of planting trees. Not for myself but for future generations. Instead they took the land, the wealth, the knowledge and the bits of whatever scraps left behind that made them feel powerful.

Then they turned around and insulted me, belittled me and blamed me for not caring enough about their every wants and fragile emotions. Demanded I work harder while they stood there watching me to criticize my every move. Accused me of selfishness for not following all the awful and outdated advice they constantly forced upon me. Hated me for not following step by step in their traditions that caused so much division and suffering. Bullied me for attempting to express myself freely.

They never got around to planting their trees. They just flicked the cigarette butt and watched the other trees burn.

The elders that left me feeling inspired and comfortable with me being myself are so few and far between that it hurts. It’s hard for me to not feel betrayed by the majority of my elders.

I want to be inspired to do good from people who already do good things. Instead I feel like my empathy for others is being built up out of spite against my elders actions. Their words are so empty and meaningless to me.

I’ve also chosen to not let my future self become a burden on the younger people that follow me. I’ve already chosen my retirement plan. Extreme sports. Wing suit would be fun. I’d easily settle for trying to kick a cop in the nuts.

I had a very different reaction to my duct tape wallet. I saw a slim, front pocket design online that was exactly what I was looking for in a wallet but I was unable to find one to buy. This was around the time that front pocket wallets just started to become a fad with the mininalism community so they were still quite uncommon.

Used an old thin plastic board as a frame and duct taped the outside. One pocket for cards, one for money and a stretchy band to slip over to prevent things from accidentally falling out.

Everyone loved it because it was so unique I guess. Kept adding more tape to repair it as it aged but eventually I retired it because the old glue was smearing all over my cards and money.

I made many great memories with that wallet since it travelled with me around the world for a good number of years.

I’ve personally never really bothered with respect after learning how authority figures and elders use respect as a tool to maintain what little authority, position or perceived power they have over others, such as myself.

Instead of giving them respect that they demand, I treat them with dignity. They aren’t special because I treat everyone I meet with dignity. This gives people a chance to earn my respect through their actions and treatment to both themselves and other people.

I do not feel comfortable allowing respect to be abused in a way that makes me feel submissive to anyone else. Also from my perspective, those who demand respect, do not deserve any respect because they fail to treat anyone else with dignity.

I just assume everyone is being nice because that’s what I’m doing. I no longer attempt to flirt because the two times I tried resulted in absolute confusion or with them laughing at me. So it’s confusing when multiple times in the past where people just start to kiss me. How long were they flirting with me? When did I flirt back? What’s even happening? I thought I was just being friendly…

More confusing is ending up in someone else’s bed without realizing you were brought there for sex until it starts happening. Even more confusing still is ending up in my own bed with someone who had plans of sex before I ever had a clue.

I’ve generally lived most my life in conservative areas or have been around conservative types of people so this isn’t a common occurrence for me. When I travelled and lived abroad or enter spaces where people are comfortable being and expressing themselves is when I start to feel visible to the world again.

Regardless of the situations I find myself in, still can’t read a person’s behaviour while I’m there in the moment. I’m only able to see what’s happened when I have time to reflect on the experiences in a quiet space. I always tell people they would have more success flirting with a wall because a wall won’t rationalize flirting into niceness.

I’ve noticed personally just how different my mind works when I am constantly presented with data for my actions. Even though these random data points have no real affect on my life, I’m still drawn to having those numbers be bigger than before. From the votes I receive from a social media comment to the reactions from a meme posted in a discord server, all I want is more attention through a click of a button from someone else’s screen.

I hate it. It feels like my value is placed into a number. For me, I prefer my value to come from how I treat other people. I feel a far greater sense of self when I am able to put my time and effort into helping other people. I get to learn the inner workings of someone else and teach them to empower themselves. It feels rewarding when later on those people I helped express their gratitute and trust in me. That is far more rewarding compared to the quick hit from any brain chemistry when looking at a bunch of data points or a bunch of money.

Unfortunately, I can’t make money this way. Not in the way I want to learn, teach and empower other people. I’m terrified of going into a career that will destroy my innate desire to help others. I know it’ll wreck me in the process. Again.

Capitalism destroys everything it touches by sucking all the life, creativity and humanity out of it until there’s a empty shell left behind. An empty shell that looks like every other empty shell. All those empty shells can be counted, given a value and sold. Reducing us and the human experience to yet another data point.

I truly hope more people come to understand that these data points don’t have to put us in a competitions with each other. That our value as people can come from places that don’t have/need to be from a number value.

One day, our planet will die. One day the last historian will die and all that data and preserved knowledge will sit and decay. It’s human knowledge and it’s meaning has more value to humans than any other living creature on our planet.

Personally, I’d rather live a life where my actions are responsible for the wellbeing of myself, my community and the land under my feet. It doesn’t matter to me anymore if my value can’t be reduced to a number.

Dean Blundell used to be a radio show host for a rock station in the greater Toronto area. From what I remember, he tried to be edgy but to me it came off as crude and mean spirited humour. I think his show got cancelled for some reason in the early 2010’s.

I’m more surprised he’s still active than compared to him falling for a parody account.

My trauma response to people who consistently jump to the most wild and unpredictable conclusions.

I always find it interesting when someone states they don’t enjoy an activity and one of the first responses are to subtly guilt the commenter for not enjoying an activity.

I’ve been losing interest in movies for the past 15-20 years and being guilted into enjoy something I no longer enjoy for someone else’s expense does not sound like fun.

Fortunately there are plenty of activities to do together. As you mentioned, cooking together sounds great to me. So does walking in nature. I especially love playing music for each other because I love hearing what other people listen to.

Humans are wonderfully complex and there’s plenty in the world to for us to enjoy.