Annoying Non Problem Solver

There is someone I hear talking a lot these days and that person is a very annoying non problem solver. If there’s a discussion on how to approach a problem within that person’s vicinity, that person will butt in with a solution, but that person will say it in an annoyed tone. The problem is, it’s not a real solution. Even more of a problem, that person shuts down discussion of the problem. Not that I discuss thing with people because I already think everything through way ahead of time, but it stops me from explaining. The biggest problem of all is that the person sounds too sure of the non solution and it causes unwise people to actually believe it or at least not refute that person out of respect. I’m not invested enough to argue with that person. There’s no point in arguing with people who don’t listen. No one listens to me.

The other problem with these kinds of people is that they’re all talk. If the solution is so simple, why don’t they do that job themselves, especially when they should’ve been the ones doing it to begin with. …I feel like I’m talking about something very specific and I’m futilely trying to generalize it…

I wonder what I’m supposed to do when I encounter people like these. Am I supposed to be confrontational and make enemies out of them? I could win the argument easily. I’d just tell them to do it themselves if it’s so simple and if they say yes, I’ll be lifted of responsibilities I didn’t want to begin with. If they say no, I won’t even let them justify it by telling them to shut the fuck up then.

…I don’t do that because I avoid conflict. I avoid it so much to the point that I’ll be leaving the country basically just to avoid everyone. That doesn’t seem like the right thing to be doing either…

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Positive to Negative …to Death…

For once I was actually going to write a happy blog post. I’ve been doing a lot of shit lately from writing code, to taking care of a sickly person, to cooking a bunch of awesome shits, to putting out a persistent stove fire (unrelated to my cooking – I didn’t start that fire!). I was going to call this blog post The Incredible Ted of All Trades. It was almost obnoxiously positive. But what do you know, before I got a chance to write that, my mood turned to shit (from identifiable reasons) and I’m back to writing the same old gloomy shit.

The death part just got added to the title. It seems almost inappropriate for me to still write about the positive parts and tack on the death in the end, but I’m going to do that because whatever, fuck it. The past few days actually started pretty good. Let me just reiterate the same old story: my uncle’s very sickly with cancer so I’ve been living with him and my aunt lately to help out. Two days ago, in the afternoon, I heard my cousin and my aunt fighting a stove fire. My cousin was panicky but my aunt was cool-headed so I just watched from afar and let them take care of it. After many seconds, almost a minute, the fire seems to be persisting so I walked over to help. They had an electric stove and they surrounded it with aluminum foil so that it’s easier to clean. The fire seemed to be burning the foil, under the coil, where you can’t reach. My aunt tried to cover the flame with a wet towel to cut off the oxygen, but that didn’t work – the fire could breath through the towel. After trying it three times or so, it was evident that we needed to do more as the fire was getting a little stronger, but not spreading, so we weren’t in any emergency state. My cousin wanted to turn off the stove but the fire was just barely covering the switch and she was too scared to reach in. I reached in and turned it off, all cool and shit.

We needed to find something else to fight the fire with. My aunt just cleaned the stove the day before for Chinese New Year so if it was possible, she didn’t want to do anything drastic that would take forever to clean up again. I suggested that she should try to find more towels to use because the one she was using clearly wasn’t enough. I noticed that the flame was able to breath through the other stovetop coil holes. I opened the oven just to check if the flame has spread below and whether it could breath from there too. I found oven pans and used them to cover all the coil holes. That ought to cut of the air. Because it was covered, I couldn’t see whether the fire was put out. I wouldn’t open it to check because that’ll feed it oxygen again. I felt that the pans got very warm so I had to assume the fire was still alive. I thought of using sand to kill the fire but I knew we don’t have sand lying around so I thought of what would be a feasible substitute for that – maybe flour or other powders. I walked over to my computer to do a quick google search and people have suggested using baking soda. So I started preparing the next step. I asked my aunt for baking soda or flour or other powders and she suggested flour because that was cheaper and more readily available. I didn’t know if flour was flammable so I would’ve started off by sprinkling a bit on the fire to test it. Being logical excuses me from being knowledgeable in problem solving. If flour was flammable, pouring a bunch in right away would cause an explosion. That would’ve been way worse. I was smart enough not to do that. It is probable that flour is flammable too because pastries can burn when they’re overcooked.

I prepared to use flour to attack the fire. I lifted the pan and saw that the fire had died. Problem solved. I still don’t know if flour would’ve stimulated the fire. I can easily google it but I won’t. I already thought of better alternatives. Later that night, I thought about where I might find sand and remembered that it’s winter and there’s snow everywhere. Then I realized that snow might be useful. I could also grab some soil from plant pots inside the house. Now that I have my plans, I’m even less afraid of fire. I’m not deluded into thinking that I saved the house from burning down or anything. In all likelihood, my aunt would’ve been able to successfully beat the fire on her own but I definitely helped end it quicker.

That covers the fire story. I could probably just have this as a post on its own but I’m going to keep going and write about all recent events. … Later that night, my uncle reported that he could no longer see out of the bottom half of his right eye. He had fallen earlier that day, in the morning – when everyone was asleep, so he might have hit his head. I mentioned that he had become kind of retarded already so it’s hard to know what happened but he hadn’t reported any new pains or hitting his head so we just left him alone all day. With the new eye problem, we needed to take him to the emergency room. I drove around and helped carry him a lot. I’ve been doing that a lot lately already. They did CAT scans and x rays and he doesn’t appear to have any new problems. My uncle had to go back to the hospital the next day for dialysis and chemotherapy so we had him stay in the emergency room overnight. I stayed overnight with my aunt. My cousin went home because she had work the next day. I went back to the house to cook some warm food for my aunt and myself to eat at the hospital. The next day, I went back to the house again to cook more food. I cooked quite a lot of pretty good shit. I rarely cook so I give myself even more pats on the back for the quality I was able to dish out. Not only that, but I also cooked a wide variety of things and did it all very quickly and efficiently. I hesitate to list the foods I made because it’s mainly Chinese and won’t sound good to most people. The first night I made ramen, chicken with sticky rice, and potato wedges. These were all frozen shit so no special cooking skills were used there. The second day I fried up some carrot cake, taro cake, and rice cake. I also wrapped up some tortillas with chicken and lettuce. The carrot and taro cakes I basically only needed to make sure I don’t burn but I still did a kickass job frying it to a perfect golden brown. The rice cake took more actual cooking skills, especially when I didn’t have all necessary ingredients in the house. I made some substitutes and cooked it all up awesomely. I actually felt pretty good about myself for once but everything goes downhill from there.

That was the positive section. I think I’m going to skip the negative section because the death section will cover some of the same topics. That last meal I cooked was for yesterday’s dinner. This morning, we were planning to eat out for Chinese New Year, just a little breakfast, and then we would be back in the hospital for the foreseeable future. After we sat down and placed our orders, we got a call from the hospital informing us that my uncle was having difficulty breathing and that we should go see him. When we got to the hospital, I offered to park the car so his wife and daughters can go in quicker. By the time I went into the room, my cousins and my aunt were all crying. He had already died. He died before they got there. (I’m not a fan of euphemisms like saying “passed away”…) He died much sooner than we expected. I don’t have many unique thoughts about the way he died so I’ll skip that. I may dedicate an entire post for that another day, but I won’t get into it now. The way I see it, my uncle has been dead for a while now. I lived at his house with him for about 4 weeks, right after he discharged from palliative care. He was in there because he wanted to die already. The first week I was with him, he was pretty much still alive. He seemed extremely depressed and bored with life, but he still tried to talk and watch tv every so often. He got bored of those very quickly, but at least he tried. For the last three weeks, he just sat and lied around with absolutely no joy. Nobody bothered talking to him anymore. They “talked” to ask him whether he needs water or food or to move and stuff, but no real conversations. His daughters in particular tried to talk to him every so often, but he didn’t seem to care and even his daughters didn’t bother trying to talk to him anymore in the past week. I’m not saying my cousins did anything wrong, because their dad would often look annoyed at their feeble attempts to converse with their dumb stories from work. Basically, his life was over already and his body just carried on for another few weeks.

I wrote all that because I was a bit bothered at all the crying. I wasn’t bothered because I think crying is weak or some shit like that, but I was bothered because it seemed almost fake to me. The reason I say that is because he was already dead to them, socially. He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t write. He didn’t want to talk even if he could. The night before, my cousins were just chatting away at his bedside with their normal chatter. At one point, I think I heard my uncle shoo them away because they were annoying. Sure, their dad was sick for years and they can’t go on feeling down about it forever, but that’s the thing, they’re already over it. The actual death itself shouldn’t be that big a deal. I’m not doubting that they genuinely felt sad and wanted to cry, but it just frustrates me that I don’t understand how most people feel. Is it only because I don’t have anyone I currently love and care for? That’s part of it, but I don’t think it’s that simple. Some people might say I would feel different if it were my own parents. I highly doubt that. While everyone was crying, I didn’t cry at all. I don’t know if that looked bad, as if I was being too cold. I think the coolest look would be to maintain complete composure (no red eyes or nose) but with a few tears sliding down my face. (Prior to this, the night before, while I was bored overnight in the emergency room, I remembered an earlier blog post where I mentioned I was so depressed, I’m probably constantly less than a minute away from crying if I just don’t hold it back. I tested that out and I was able to shed a few tears without needing to try too hard.) I brought up that parenthetical story because I didn’t try to do that just to “look cool” based on the image I described earlier. This whole death thing is not about me.

They cried next to the body for about an hour. During that time I yawned a few times and some tears came out. I don’t think those tears count but I thought it was related enough to mention. Now that I’m on tangents, I also thought it might be funny to tickle a severely depressed or emo person to see them laugh involuntarily. I don’t know… I guess that’s pretty much all I’ve got to say about this. I thought I might have more to say about the death-sadness thing but I guess I don’t. Hey, maybe I am affected by death after all.

Going Full Retard…

I’m not sure where to start… I guess first off, if you’re going to get offended at my liberal use of the word retard, you should stop reading now. This post is not about me going full retard, but I’ve wondered about that before. During one the earlier days of depression, when I was still exploring the extent it can affect me, I had spent some time making retard noises. It all started when I was taking a shit. (A lot of my stories seem to start off with me taking a shit.) I try to make as little noise as possible in all aspects of life so it goes without saying that I don’t make constipated noises either. However, I was home alone and didn’t give a shit and wanted to make some constipated noises for “fun”. From there, I noticed that it sounded similar to retard noises so I started making retard noises instead. There are things you can do in life that marks a new high or low point. Taking a shit while making retard noises definitely marked a new low point.

After I finished taking that shit, I went to lie in bed. It wasn’t because I was exhausted from taking a shit; going to bed is just the default thing to do when a person’s depressed and doesn’t want to do anything. In bed, I made some more retard noises. I noticed that it was kind of similar to bawling noises. Now, I only made these retard noises because I knew there was no one around to hear them so it wouldn’t negatively affect anyone. Even still, why the fuck am I making those noises? Am I becoming a retard? Prior to this incident, I wouldn’t make retard noises even if no one was around, because I’m not a retard. What if I started making retard noises when people are around. Would I be a retard then?

I said this post wasn’t about me turning retarded. It isn’t. That’s as far as I’ve explored in my retard transformation. This story will get really depressing from here on out. My uncle’s been dying from cancer and my aunt has been taking care of him. I’ve been living with them for a couple weeks now to help out. Today, my uncle seems to have gone full retard. It wasn’t an instant change. It was fairly gradual. For a long time now, he’s hasn’t had much energy. He seems to lose more energy with each passing day. Walking had be difficult for him for a while now, but he was still able to walk. He lost his ability to walk yesterday. It’s not completely gone, but he needs a lot of support to barely walk now. Last week, he was pretty much able to walk on his own and it was just safer to have supervision.

Let me backtrack a little more. My uncle’s currently living with his wife who’s taking care of him full time and his 30 year old daughter who’s a teacher during a day, and loving daughter by night. I wrote an entry about that “love” here so I won’t repeat that again. For the past 2 weeks, my uncle has pretty much been completely ignoring his wife and daughter, chalking it up to lack of energy. I get it though. They constantly ask him if he wants anything, if he wants more water, more food, more whatever. Everything except actual love… He obviously has no appetite and no motivation to do anything, so all those questions are just annoying. His wife actually gets pretty pissed that he doesn’t respond to her to his own detriment which causes her more trouble because she has to take care of him. The part she’s really pissed about is that he actually responds to his brothers when they visit. This makes my uncle out to be not in as bad a shape as he is actually in and it makes my aunt look like a bitch for not being able to handle it. Again, I kind of get it. The constant nagging of the same questions can get very annoying, especially for someone who’s depressed and going through a lot of physical pain from the cancer too.

The combination of his increasing difficulty to move and his lack of response has turned my uncle into a full retard in all practical sense. His daughter tries to tell him funny stories from work but he doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even react. I kind of get it. I’m depressed as well, probably not as much as him, and I don’t react to the stories either. I would politely laugh if she were telling me that story in a one-on-one conversation, but in a group setting, I don’t bother laughing. He’s unamused. He tried talking to the personal support worker but she was a dumb bitch who could barely speak English so that didn’t go well either. With no stimulation for so many days, it’s not surprising at all that it’s taking a toll on his mental health. Now I’m not taking sides here. I’m not saying my uncle is justified or not justified to behave the way he’s behaving. I’m just saying that I can kind of see how it got to be this way. I’m not saying my aunt is doing a good or bad job either. I don’t know what things were like a month ago, 6 months ago, a year ago. I can say that my aunt’s trying her best and doing a LOT for him. Maybe her best just isn’t enough. Maybe she’s not giving him what he wants. As far as I can tell, she hasn’t been giving him any stimulating conversation and hasn’t given him any sex. I’m not even sure if he’s even capable of having sex at this point or if he wants it. I don’t know if he wants stimulating conversations either. I’m just listing things that he’s not getting.

The problem I have with this whole situation is that I could’ve made a difference- I could’ve made things better. I also wrote about this before, but about 10 days ago, my uncle tried to talk to me. He asked if I wanted to hear what he has to say about my life and I said “Sure, if you want”. He was a bit unhappy with my response because he was trying to talk to me for my sake, not his. At least back then, he had the energy to respond that way. He went on and said generic crap about how life isn’t fair and I should get a diploma, blah blah blah, typical mainstream advice. Nothing profound about it at all. I just nodded along and said “uh huh” until finally he said he’d leave me to my work. He also advised me to wear more clothes because it’s cold and the flu is going around. I responded but did not wear more clothes because I knew I didn’t need it. One by one, everyone got sick, including my uncle, but I’m still fine. I don’t get sick. Even if I catch a bug and I get a fever, I am not sickly. I can still function at over 90% which is far more than most people’s 100%. The part I feel a little guilty about is that unlike the women in his family, he seems to respond to me the few times I’ve spoken to him over the past couple weeks. I’m not annoying (yet). If I were a better conversationalist, I could’ve helped make his last days a lot less miserable. But unfortunately, I didn’t do shit about it. I feel bad, but not THAT bad because it’s not my responsibility. For instance, he would probably feel better if I listened to his “wise words”. Then what? You want me to go to school and not be able to drive him to the hospital? That doesn’t exactly help him. Plus, my life is not for him to guide. Am I supposed to go to school and get a “good” job just so other people are happy? If I’m supposed to just do everything to make others happy, why don’t I blow him too. I’m sure life would be awesome if everyone tells you that your dick is delicious and they can’t get enough of it. But it’s not my job to do that. Neither is it my job to live my life to their old fashioned standards. If they would stop demoralizing me, maybe it wouldn’t take me so long to make games and be depressed as fuck while I do it. I’m choosing to do what I do regardless of what they say. They can either support me or get in my way. And everyone in my life just wants to fucking get in my way. They just want to relieve themselves of blame. Because of the generic advice they’re giving me, when I fail at life, I can’t justly blame them. Yet they don’t care that I’m presently blaming them for my misery. People are stupid.

Annoying Annoying People

I don’t really have much to say on the matter. I was mildly amused for a brief moment when I thought of that title/phrase and decided to write a blog about it. Now I have to actually think of something to write about it. First off, I want to clarify that the title is [verb][adjective][noun] as opposed to a repetition of an adjective for emphasis. I always thought it was neat to have “…that that…” in a sentence and be grammatically correct. I’m amused that that kind of thing exists in the English language. That’s enough of that. I’m not giving a grammar lesson here.

In order to be an annoying person, you have to be a needy person. Hmm, that’s not true. A completely non needy person can be annoying too. I’ve been annoyed by them. That happens when someone doesn’t need anything but they don’t seem very content. That becomes annoying when they’re under your hospitality. I guess I could argue that they’re actually needy as well: they have a need to feel independent even though they’re not actually as self-sufficient as they think they are. …  I have a love hate relationship with language and semantics. A lot of words are defined so broadly that you can bend them into pretty much anything you want. I am fairly good at word bending and it’s fun sometimes to bend words in ways people don’t usually use them. But other times, it makes communication more difficult and if anything can mean anything, what’s the point of saying anything?

Okay, back to annoying people. I don’t indulge annoying people. The more annoying they get, the more I ignore them. Some of them probably get annoyed by my ignorance of them. I don’t care about that. The suckier way to annoy annoying people is when you’re actually trying to be nice to them and cope with their annoyingness but they don’t appreciate your effort and continue bitching at you.

I don’t have much else to say on this subject. I better stop trying to write about nothing lest I become even more annoying.