"I'm sorry," is a phrase that that has become over used in our society these days. We use it for everything from a harmless bump into someone to hearing of a stranger's loss. It has come to verbalize our own inadequacies of not knowing what to say in those situations, so we say, "I'm sorry," as if we had some direct connection to the issue.
Even when we do have a direct connection, i.e. bumping into someone, the phrase is the wrong reply to the situation. Instead of offering an "I'm sorry," why not just say, "excuse me", or "pardon me" instead? Unless your bumping was so much of a jostle to the other person to cause them pain or knock them off balance, "I'm sorry" is unwarranted, since an "excuse me" or "pardon me" will suffice just as well.
As for the loss of someone else's job, other person, item, pet or whatever noun that fits; "I'm sorry" is just a shallow consolatory phrase. You had no hand in their termination, person passing, tv breaking, Fido dying or abduction by space aliens. If you did, then you have deeper issues and should seek some help as you definitely need it.
"I'm sorry" has become a shallow, meaningless, nothing of a phrase that we just use when do not have anything else to say. It is our at-the-ready apology that gets tossed out at any bad news that we hear to try to make the recipient feel better. Why not offer an "I apologize"? Seems a bit more heart felt than the other throw away one, doesn't it?
We tend to use "I'm sorry" more on loved ones, friends or people we have an interest in of a romantic variety as a way to apologize for our failings or mis-deeds. We only use it on strangers when there is an accident involved.
sor·ry
–adjective, -ri·er, -ri·est.
1. feeling regret, compunction, sympathy, pity, etc.: to be sorry to leave one's friends; to be sorry for a remark; to be sorry for someone in trouble.
2. regrettable or deplorable; unfortunate; tragic: a sorry situation; to come to a sorry end.
3. sorrowful, grieved, or sad: Was she sorry when her brother died?
4. associated with sorrow; suggestive of grief or suffering; melancholy; dismal.
5. wretched, poor, useless, or pitiful: a sorry horse.
6. (used interjectionally as a conventional apology or expression of regret): Sorry, you're misinformed. Did I bump you? Sorry.
Unless you wear your heart on your sleeve, you do not meet the definition of "sorry" when dealing with any situation that we currently use the phrase "I'm sorry."
You don't feel sorry when hearing about a friend's coffee maker breaking; you might if you are the one that broke it.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Stress Relief
My heart beat at a deafening pace. The pressure inside my head felt as if it would cause it to explode. The stress was killing me but there was no way I could stop now. I was focused at the job at hand. I would see this through to the end.
Their life would end.
The struggle, the gasping for breathe would all but soon be over for them. Their life would slip from them. Their eyes would glass over staring out for help that will not come. In that instant, my heartbeat will slow, the stress of the moment will cease and I will be able to breathe once again.
This is my first kill. My first taking of another life. It was exhilarating. It was stressful. It was fun.
It was not something I had planned to do, no pre-planning, no stalking the perfect victim, no choosing the right spot. It was just a spur of the moment thing. A random act of violence as the papers would most likely say.
I was having a rather shitty day; my boss reprimanded me for not doing something that clearly was his responsibility but he needed an apt reason as to save face with his boss. I was forced to take an alternate route home, which added another hour to my already stressful commute.
So to take solace from this day, I decided to go to the park for a walk. Some fresh air, some sunshine and a little exercise are always good to relieve stress, right? Not at the park I went to it seems, as everyone there was too absorbed into their own little worlds of listening to their ipods, of working out, that they seemed to forget how to see beyond three feet in front of them or were unable to judge the speed they were traveling while on their bicycles or while running. Seemed as if I was invisible as almost every person out there nearly ran me over or bumped into me and with every instance, not one person would have the common courtesy to apologize or to say, "excuse me.”
What was to be a source of relaxation and stress relief became a source of just the opposite.
I just wanted to cry, to sit down on a bench and cry. To have a complete stranger ask me what was wrong, to put their arm around me, to afford me a hug to ease what was troubling me.
That did not happen. I sat on the park bench by myself, trying to relax, to take deep breathes to let all of it go; just to have a guy come up to me and ask me if I would move because his family liked to sit on that bench.
That was it; that was the last straw. I started to head home, only to be further accosted by the runners, the bikers and anyone else that felt it necessary to further piss me off. The finality came as a runner approached towards me and upon having to decide to pass me on the side that offered the entire road with a very wide berth as to pass without incident, he decided to pass on the other that only offered but a mere swath of free land that would only cause him to bump into me. Which he did and I managed to be able to push him as he did with enough force that it spun him around, off balance, causing him to falter on his step and crash into the bushes.
I being slightly ashamed at what I did went to the man to offer an apology as well as to offer a hand in helping him back up. What I received was an assault of expletives and threats, to which I fell upon him with ill intent as to end his life right then. I had no quarrel with the man other than an innocent bump as he passed while on a run but here I was with such hatred, with such a firm unbreakable grip on his throat, that any other person would be able to swear that man must have committed some sort of unforgivable grievance to warrant such an attack.
Once he was gone, I left him there in the bushes, just off the track. No one had seen our little bump or my aggressive reply or even yet still my vicious throttling of his person. I felt safe that my freedom would still be guaranteed with that knowledge.
Their life would end.
The struggle, the gasping for breathe would all but soon be over for them. Their life would slip from them. Their eyes would glass over staring out for help that will not come. In that instant, my heartbeat will slow, the stress of the moment will cease and I will be able to breathe once again.
This is my first kill. My first taking of another life. It was exhilarating. It was stressful. It was fun.
It was not something I had planned to do, no pre-planning, no stalking the perfect victim, no choosing the right spot. It was just a spur of the moment thing. A random act of violence as the papers would most likely say.
I was having a rather shitty day; my boss reprimanded me for not doing something that clearly was his responsibility but he needed an apt reason as to save face with his boss. I was forced to take an alternate route home, which added another hour to my already stressful commute.
So to take solace from this day, I decided to go to the park for a walk. Some fresh air, some sunshine and a little exercise are always good to relieve stress, right? Not at the park I went to it seems, as everyone there was too absorbed into their own little worlds of listening to their ipods, of working out, that they seemed to forget how to see beyond three feet in front of them or were unable to judge the speed they were traveling while on their bicycles or while running. Seemed as if I was invisible as almost every person out there nearly ran me over or bumped into me and with every instance, not one person would have the common courtesy to apologize or to say, "excuse me.”
What was to be a source of relaxation and stress relief became a source of just the opposite.
I just wanted to cry, to sit down on a bench and cry. To have a complete stranger ask me what was wrong, to put their arm around me, to afford me a hug to ease what was troubling me.
That did not happen. I sat on the park bench by myself, trying to relax, to take deep breathes to let all of it go; just to have a guy come up to me and ask me if I would move because his family liked to sit on that bench.
That was it; that was the last straw. I started to head home, only to be further accosted by the runners, the bikers and anyone else that felt it necessary to further piss me off. The finality came as a runner approached towards me and upon having to decide to pass me on the side that offered the entire road with a very wide berth as to pass without incident, he decided to pass on the other that only offered but a mere swath of free land that would only cause him to bump into me. Which he did and I managed to be able to push him as he did with enough force that it spun him around, off balance, causing him to falter on his step and crash into the bushes.
I being slightly ashamed at what I did went to the man to offer an apology as well as to offer a hand in helping him back up. What I received was an assault of expletives and threats, to which I fell upon him with ill intent as to end his life right then. I had no quarrel with the man other than an innocent bump as he passed while on a run but here I was with such hatred, with such a firm unbreakable grip on his throat, that any other person would be able to swear that man must have committed some sort of unforgivable grievance to warrant such an attack.
Once he was gone, I left him there in the bushes, just off the track. No one had seen our little bump or my aggressive reply or even yet still my vicious throttling of his person. I felt safe that my freedom would still be guaranteed with that knowledge.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Losing Us
I wrote previously on how technology can help us find that one true love that is for us, rather than having to settle for something that is just right there. Which I believe wholeheartedly, but I believe that technology is destroying us as a peoples.
Anymore we are too connected to the internet via laptops, cell phone and tablet PCs. We over-share our lives to all of our ‘friends’ on Facebook, Twitter and MySpace. We forget about people till we see them post on those sites, then we hijack that status just to interject how we miss them, ignoring the whole point of their post that states how their house just burned down. We as a people have become too shallow towards our fellow man or woman. We only care about a quick 180 character response on how you are doing or feeling, not bothering to get to know anybody as a person or individual but just as a status that does only to cover the right then. Quick pleasantries have become the norm, not for reason of a busy life, but for the simple fact that we only care about ourselves rather than the person that is in front of us right then.
When out with significant others, friends or family, we check our phones constantly while in conversation for texts from someone else or Facebook updates; either from friends or to update our own. No longer can we just be in the moment without sharing with the world, a world that does not care unless you are talking about it.
We have become a ‘give it to me now’ instant gratification society, no wanting to wait for something. Patience has become an antiquated virtue to us and has become thought of as a weakness or of being slow. Move quick, go now, speak fast is the law of the land. A New York minute is the new standard of time that we all have incorporated into our lives.
The easy going carefree-ness of youth is being lost by our constant busy lives. Our own hurriedness that our children see becomes learned behavior for them. Children no longer imagine, they do not have time for such childish things; they are too busy absorbing someone else’s pre-packaged imagination while updating their own Facebook, Twitter and MySpace.
We are losing our humanity by keeping everyone at arms length but simultaneously letting everyone know what we are doing on a constant basis.
We have chosen this life.
We will lose ourselves if we continue down this path of self-absorbedness.
Anymore we are too connected to the internet via laptops, cell phone and tablet PCs. We over-share our lives to all of our ‘friends’ on Facebook, Twitter and MySpace. We forget about people till we see them post on those sites, then we hijack that status just to interject how we miss them, ignoring the whole point of their post that states how their house just burned down. We as a people have become too shallow towards our fellow man or woman. We only care about a quick 180 character response on how you are doing or feeling, not bothering to get to know anybody as a person or individual but just as a status that does only to cover the right then. Quick pleasantries have become the norm, not for reason of a busy life, but for the simple fact that we only care about ourselves rather than the person that is in front of us right then.
When out with significant others, friends or family, we check our phones constantly while in conversation for texts from someone else or Facebook updates; either from friends or to update our own. No longer can we just be in the moment without sharing with the world, a world that does not care unless you are talking about it.
We have become a ‘give it to me now’ instant gratification society, no wanting to wait for something. Patience has become an antiquated virtue to us and has become thought of as a weakness or of being slow. Move quick, go now, speak fast is the law of the land. A New York minute is the new standard of time that we all have incorporated into our lives.
The easy going carefree-ness of youth is being lost by our constant busy lives. Our own hurriedness that our children see becomes learned behavior for them. Children no longer imagine, they do not have time for such childish things; they are too busy absorbing someone else’s pre-packaged imagination while updating their own Facebook, Twitter and MySpace.
We are losing our humanity by keeping everyone at arms length but simultaneously letting everyone know what we are doing on a constant basis.
We have chosen this life.
We will lose ourselves if we continue down this path of self-absorbedness.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Ghost Story
Remember that movie The Frighteners with Michael J. Fox? You know the one where he could see dead people that were stuck between this world and the next? In other words, he could see ghosts.
Yeah, that's my life. Not the seeing ghosts part, but the being a ghost part. I'm not some sort of old ghost from the past of long ago that haunts old mansions, hotels and cemeteries but a new age ghost from this century. Kinda cool, huh? When I was alive, I saw The Frighteners, had a cell phone, drove a car, owned a computer, had a family and I died.
My actual death I do not remember but I believe it had to be sudden as I do not remember having been sick for a lengthy time as if having cancer or such. I imagine it was sudden; perhaps a car accident or plane crash or maybe something epic. Like driving a car on a bridge, being hit by a plane, getting knocked off and crashing into the icy water below. I mean EPIC. If it was something pathetic like having a heart attack while watching porn and jerking off, I would kill myself.
That is, if I weren't already dead.
I'm not sure how I died, all I remember is being at the funeral seeing friends and family paying their last respects with tearful mourning and wailing With some asking the eternal question, "Why God, why?" It was a sad, pathetic affair. Not the mourning part, but to see some just falling out as they did; I know I was all that and all, but please for the sake of dignity, compose yourself accordingly. I suppose that was the time I was to make amends, say my goodbyes and such. Which I did, just like the movies tell you so you can move on but obviously they lie.
I know, big shocker there.
After the funeral I just hung around the house for a bit watching my wife and kids grow up and move on without me. The hardest part was seeing my wife remarry a year later. I was a little bitter about that and lashed out some. Breaking their wedding picture and knocking him down the stairs; it was juvenile but felt good at the time. Seeing the fear on my wife and kids faces, as well as hearing my six year old tell her mother that, "Daddy is mad at you Mommy for marrying our new Daddy," made me stop and rethink what I was doing.
So I left.
The part about ghosts haunting places or people, I guess could be true for ghosts that can't let go, but I wasn't stuck to just haunt my house or family as I was able to leave after lashing out.
I went and explored the world, saw the pyramids, Great Wall, Tower of London and every other place that I had wanted to while I was living, but never got the chance to. I was always looking for fellow ghosts or spirits while I was traveling but never found any. Even going to places that were described as being haunted, I never saw any hauntings or spirits there.
It has been 30 years since my passing, my children are grown with little ones of their own, my wife is living happily with her second husband in Ft. Lauderdale living the good life.
I'm not sure what will happen in the future; if I'm destined to continue this wandering for eternity as my own personal Hell or if I'll move on when my true love passes on. I do know that not having anyone to talk to, communicate with, this loneliness, is what is the big suck.
If this is Hell, I thought I lived right. If this is purgatory, I hope God has mercy on my judgement; as this seems like Hell to me. If there is no God, then I pray for reincarnation so as to start anew and live the way I should.
Yeah, that's my life. Not the seeing ghosts part, but the being a ghost part. I'm not some sort of old ghost from the past of long ago that haunts old mansions, hotels and cemeteries but a new age ghost from this century. Kinda cool, huh? When I was alive, I saw The Frighteners, had a cell phone, drove a car, owned a computer, had a family and I died.
My actual death I do not remember but I believe it had to be sudden as I do not remember having been sick for a lengthy time as if having cancer or such. I imagine it was sudden; perhaps a car accident or plane crash or maybe something epic. Like driving a car on a bridge, being hit by a plane, getting knocked off and crashing into the icy water below. I mean EPIC. If it was something pathetic like having a heart attack while watching porn and jerking off, I would kill myself.
That is, if I weren't already dead.
I'm not sure how I died, all I remember is being at the funeral seeing friends and family paying their last respects with tearful mourning and wailing With some asking the eternal question, "Why God, why?" It was a sad, pathetic affair. Not the mourning part, but to see some just falling out as they did; I know I was all that and all, but please for the sake of dignity, compose yourself accordingly. I suppose that was the time I was to make amends, say my goodbyes and such. Which I did, just like the movies tell you so you can move on but obviously they lie.
I know, big shocker there.
After the funeral I just hung around the house for a bit watching my wife and kids grow up and move on without me. The hardest part was seeing my wife remarry a year later. I was a little bitter about that and lashed out some. Breaking their wedding picture and knocking him down the stairs; it was juvenile but felt good at the time. Seeing the fear on my wife and kids faces, as well as hearing my six year old tell her mother that, "Daddy is mad at you Mommy for marrying our new Daddy," made me stop and rethink what I was doing.
So I left.
The part about ghosts haunting places or people, I guess could be true for ghosts that can't let go, but I wasn't stuck to just haunt my house or family as I was able to leave after lashing out.
I went and explored the world, saw the pyramids, Great Wall, Tower of London and every other place that I had wanted to while I was living, but never got the chance to. I was always looking for fellow ghosts or spirits while I was traveling but never found any. Even going to places that were described as being haunted, I never saw any hauntings or spirits there.
It has been 30 years since my passing, my children are grown with little ones of their own, my wife is living happily with her second husband in Ft. Lauderdale living the good life.
I'm not sure what will happen in the future; if I'm destined to continue this wandering for eternity as my own personal Hell or if I'll move on when my true love passes on. I do know that not having anyone to talk to, communicate with, this loneliness, is what is the big suck.
If this is Hell, I thought I lived right. If this is purgatory, I hope God has mercy on my judgement; as this seems like Hell to me. If there is no God, then I pray for reincarnation so as to start anew and live the way I should.
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