I want to hear your life story Gorog!

[Kommando Kodiak]

I was intrigued by his kukri post i stumbled upon whilst looking up info on kukris.(currently reading post #41)
Give it in full Gorog, don't hold back! Proudly wear your heart on your sleeve!

[Gorog]

Hmm.... Well, to be quite honest, my memory is a sieve...with a big MONSTER hole in it. That is is actually a BLACK HOLE...of doom. (Huh?) But! I will do my best to try and satisfy a request I have never quite heard anyone ask me before.

Unfortunately, my life ain't all happy and smiles, Kodiak, so be prepared for some plot twists that may not be very healthy sounding. They weren't. Don't worry mods, I'll keep this appropriate and civil, no disrespect, nothing illegal to the forum, this place is my home, and I refuse to desecrate my home with things that don't belong in such a nice place as this.
It'll take some time, dude, but, I'll get this whole life story out to ya soon enough, if that's what you want.
Peace.
David

[Kommando Kodiak]

take all you need i noticed you had a story to tell cause you were bursting at the seems and it was spilling over in your posts, this is the perfect outlet!

[Gorog]

Forgive me moderators if this is out of place or obscene in any way. I do not see anything but the truth in my eyes, yet, if you see something objectible, please let me know. I do not intend to offend anyone here.
Funnily enough, I just realized that this an entirely different niche in the forums, ain't it? (This ain't the Cantina anymore, Toto...) Blow me down, so it is...anyway, I've got some time to kill before my friendly neighborhood postman comes. No really, my USPS postman is really a nice guy, always wishes everyone well, polite, timely, and very committed to his job. (I ordered some rocking asian brushes from blue heron arts, and they are taking their sweet time in filtering through the snail mail.)
But, I digress. My life story begins like everyone elses. Understand that this is a public forum, and I say this as much for reiteration to myself as I say it to others who just 'might' notice plot holes and whatnot in my story: some things are meant to be kept close at heart, not just for my safety, but for others in my family, and to spare many others undue concern and such like. Basically, I have a few secrets I will probably not be sharing, not because I don't like the dude who prompted this whole thing, not because I don't like my audience, but because some random person could stumble across this, and use it to tear me down. I don't want or need that. And besides! Think of it this way: without mystery, people think that they know EVERYthing, and that is truly dangerous thinking, right there. So, in reality, my keeping small secrets is only a contribution to the story! Yay, contributions!
And, yet again, I find myself just a little off topic.

Here we go, no distractions. My life story will be divided up into some categories: Early Life, Later life, Late life, Present, and Goals for the future. Let us start from the beginning: I don't remember much, but I do remember finger painting in kindergarten, splatter painting, first grade reading, impressing people with my remarkable spelling and reading capabilities. I remember pouring my heart and soul eagerly into composition books, writing hundreds of pages, and scrapping them, I remember getting ridiculed for my socially inappropriate behavior sets. I remember living life in the world of insects, studying, memorizing them, reading field guides, pest guides, anything I could get my hands on, swearing my undying love for bugs, and my undying wish to never get married! I was an adorable kid, back in the day, beach blonde hair, dimples and fair complexion, my skull was a little too big for my body, but that was when I was most happy, when I had no cares, no plans, nothing to worry or care about. I loved life when I was a little kid. (No, really though, I was pretty handsome back then. WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!?!? Kidding. )

So, we move on to late elementary and middle school. This is when bullying began to really get me good. This is when I broke my spleen on a wooden container beam for the playground areas, and, lo and behold, whether to get attention or to redeem himself, the slick, super cool bully of the school Bruce helped me, screaming and vomiting, to the nurse's office, where I left everyone to go to the ER. I survived, and so did my spleen, but I still have a card made out of poster board that was signed by my classmates saying, get well soon. I moved on to middle school, Newark Charter. It was good my social skills were still prehistoric at best, because, otherwise, I would have gotten in quite a bit of fights. Middle school was...downright nasty. I was bullied almost every single day of my time there, even tried to bully someone else to try and make myself feel better, only to feel far worse (I found out later that the girl I bullied has autism, just like me, or possibly worse...I might never get over it, but I wish I had apologized when I saw her...)
And things got, remarkably, even worse in high school. I was inappropriately touched by some dude I did not know or will ever know, every day was a bully filled soap opera of trying to survive, to stay invisible, to be incognito. Because when people are popular at Newark High School, stuff happens to them.... That was all I knew. My life deteriorated as my mental state plunged into a deluge of depression. I cut myself over a hundred and thirty six times with scissors, covered myself in bandages, and went to high school one day, just to catch some girls eye in my neighborhood. I should have known what I saw was not promising ground to build a relationship upon. I spent four years of my life putting the same girl before myself, and the result was that she was terrified of me, and rightly so. I still resent her for it, yet I resent my foolishness...so much more.
I am living now with a checkerboard of light scar tissue on my arms and legs, and a slash on my left cheek that time will not heal. But I was lucky. And I am thankful for that stroke of luck that kept me from taking my life a hundred thousand times over. Because I have amazing talents, a beautiful, utterly gorgeous imagination that could be completely original, and I have much to give this world yet. I refuse to take the easy, simple way out. To die voluntarily is simple pain, to live is a complexity of coping, facing, accepting, and becoming more, than your eventual end. I have already chosen to live, and I have put my past pains behind me, because there are millions upon millions of people suffering far worse fates than I can fathom. I believe now, that is my civic, national, international duty to become a world famous artist, and paper the world with messages both subtle and screaming, that change and tradition are natural parts of life, that invention and reinvention are necessary to growth and purpose, that people who are suffering need not suffer, and people who luxuriate in terrible wealth, power, and might, who greedily hoarde riches, who terrorize the helpless, those who are not moral, nor righteous, should never have grown so complacent, and will be brought to justice...legally, of course.
I have a purpose in life, and I must fulfill it. That is my story, dude. If you need more details, more anything, just let me know, and I will tell you, personally. Peace.
David

[Kommando Kodiak]

Wow. I gotta say there are some uncanny parallels between you and I.

Can you tell us more about the neighborhood girl incident(?) and more about stuff happening to the popular kids? full out man elaborate on these stories no passing mentions !

[Gorog]

Sorry, just got to this... WITH MY BRAND NEW IPAD!!!!!!!!!!!! Just bought it...I'm all smiles today...and it is about darn time! Anyway, it's a little late...I'm going to turn in early and get to know my gift to me while I drift off to the land of nod. Peace til tomorrow.
David

Expect more about my painful stabs at romance and the dangers of being known at Newark high tomorrow.

[Gorog]

Sorry dude, some things came up today, like a migraine. Looking at my screen brings the pain, but I wanted you to know that I am not ignoring you. Peace, hope you and yours are doing great....
David

[Emanuel]

I think what you'll find, according to various researchers who have spent their lives dealing with the foibles and intricacies of the human condition (specifically I have Jerome Kagan in mind right now), is that creativity and imagination is not something born within but is infact more often than not made in the angst and pain of adolescent trauma and isolation.

Perhaps you recognize something out of that statement from your own childhood.

Best regards to you David,
emanuel

[Gorog]

Interesting, I believe you are right, Emanuel, perhaps not in that it is the sole cause of imagination, but a contributing factor, a large factor, indeed it be. But my intent was, actually, not to sound ungracious and be a know it all, but to thank you for your regards and hope that we share a common perception. And yes, that girl on your avatar is gorgeous, but that was never really in question, was it, David?

Anyway, so, story time...sophomore year, I was young and very awkward and unusual, walked onto the bus, and I fell for the first and only girl I saw from then on for.......an unfortunate span of time. To really get the scope, the depth of my rather ill conceived affections for this freshman girl, probably graduating or in college now, imagine you literally formed a lifelong bond with a stranger you never saw before, like you met an earthbound superheroine, so outrageously desirable, yet still attainable. And yet, it was worse than that... Far worse.... I look back on my failed romantic approaches towards this girl as the single most educational moment of my life, the single most dangerous mistake I ever made.
The reason Newark high school was so dangerous was mostly because I was infatuated with the idea of the perfect woman...and nothing else. I self mutilated, self deprecated, brought myself down EVERY SINGLE DAY I was not with this girl, laughing with her, talking, getting to know, just being with her...it felt like every day of my life was a day wasted unless it was in her presence.... But I was too darn afraid...until the end of my senior year...I grew a set, and basically, after getting to know her, asked her if she was available. She was not.

The moral of this tale is NOT however, to give up if the love of a woman (or man or whatever your preferences may be) is what you really want. However, that is all it should be, relationships of this kind must be sustainable and what both parties WANT. My severely traumatizing obsession with this girl was nothing more than me personifying and creating an outlet for my natural narcissistic assumption that I was handsome enough, skilled enough, interesting enough, ENOUGH to get the attention of a young woman who was, so obviously, now, not at all my 'type'. Now...I just look at it as the reason that, when I am aware of the passage of time, I never let a second go to utter waste.
As for Newark High, it was a reasonably susceptible to fights, and I knew that it was an environment that promoted brutal, but ancient tendencies like a jubilant circle of mob mentality people surrounding any sort of brawling or public displays of aggression. It was an eye opener. I was grateful for the opportunity to blink, and rejoice in the fact that it is no longer mandatory to be there....
Anything else? Was I too vague anywhere? I left the girls name out of the picture on purpose...as much as I abominate her for the way she handled the situation involving my feelings, as much as I disagree with her cruel treatment of not me, but those she deemed 'weird'...I respect her privacy now. Well, that's all I wrote. Hope I answered all your questions... If not, let me know. Peace.
David