Blog...delete...blog...delete...aw screw it, I'm bloggin'!

I keep writing the same post over and over again, each time figuring that it may be offensive and deleting it. I don't even keep it as a draft, I mercilessly just delete the pages of text I wrote saying "Naw, this could get messy, I'd rather duck and avoid". Then, two weeks ago, I re-wrote the whole thing. It was still vibrant, a little scathing, and probably poorly written. I don't know exactly, because I deleted it. Today, I have decided just to bloody say it, because dammit, I can. Now, after that prelude that is going to make the rest of the post seem completely disappointing, here it is...the forbidden post.
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Original title: Dying Whiners

You already know that I can't stand whiners. Get of your hiney and do something about whatever the hell it is you are complaining about. I am only so harsh on others because I have been there...my name is Barlet, and I'm a whiner. No more though, I have put the whining days (almost) firmly behind me, and if it wasn't for blogging, I wouldn't whine at all. It is simply something that, to me, takes more time and effort than just getting it done (whatever that may be). So, let's call this whole thing "An Observation" and not a whine (which is really, at it's base level, exactly what it is).

There's a guy in the blogging sphere. He may read my blog, I don't know. I wouldn't think I was self important enough to think he would if it wasn't for sharing mutual blog links. It is just a possibility. This guy has had a tough run of it, and his problems are very real and very, very pronounced. BUT, the guy is a whiner. Grade A. His blog is filled (FILLED) with the tales of woe, usually centring around which of his friends has recently done him wrong. The post that follows would then flip the whole thing on its head...they are now best of buds. And this seesawing continues throughout...friend wasn't available to talk = bad friend, friend sends email = good friend, friend hasn't time to be on the phone = evil friend, friend makes positive comment = good friend. I can't take the drama.

So why do I read this? I don't know. Nothing ever changes. Someone always "done him wrong" through some tiny misgiving that I would forgive of my worst enemy. I almost start to crave the lunacy...his best friend in the whole world kicked to the curb over a misunderstanding...LOVE IT! Better than a soap opera / car crash combination.

But it is hard to watch, the total and utter mental and physical disintegration of someone who is so fickle, hard to please, impossible to deal with, manic and clearly insane. Yet every day I aid and abet his whining observations of the world around him.

*sidenote: if you don't see why I couldn't write this earlier, maybe now you can

And here is where it gets difficult. I have known many disabled and sick people throughout my life. I have cared for the elderly, the dying, the permanently maimed, and guess what? While I was privy to their darkest thoughts, the most painful and lonely times, there was always a glimmer of...not hope...lightness. Of acceptance or humour (and not the dark kind either). These are people who still lived fulfilling and interesting lives, and fulfilled the lives of others even as they lay dying. Is this important? I don't know. All I know is that whining got them nowhere during those last weeks. All it got them is less time and less breath to say what they needed to say.

What am I saying? That people in terrible pain and in the process of dying should shut up and put up? No. But I am curious as to why this guy wastes so much breath and time and energy on being such a drama queen, if his days are, but his own admission, limited. All of the things he appears to be bitching about, all of the supposed "slights" against him appear minor to say the least, so what's the deal? What's the story?

Should I be writing this post? Isn't it taboo to saying anything bad against the diabled or dying? Yes, it is, but does that make this guy any less of a jerk? No. He's a jerk. I'm not sure why I care so much, but I feel as if I want to punch him in the face sometimes just to get him to understand...life is precious, shut the hell up! Why are you wasting time?! Why are you so focused on who said what to whom at what time when your kids are going to be fatherless?! Why the hell are you typing this blog? What is it for? What type of legacy is this that you are leaving for your wife and kids ? Shouldn't you be writing them letters to open on their wedding days? What the hell is wrong with you, and don't give me that "I'm dying" crap because I've seen it and this isn't about that.

Now that I've sufficiently whined my way through a blog post (again), I guess I'm just saying that life is short, and even shorter for some. It's what we do with it that counts. As Terry Fox Day creeps up on us I just think of him on the road, riddled with cancer but full of life. He showed us what it means to live, as strange as that is. To the anonymous guy, I wish you the best life possible. Just don't waste it.
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All hate mail can be directed to barletstarlet@yahoo.com