Monthly Archives: August 2023

Random Thoughts and Stories, Shared on Social Media, Uncategorized

Raised Stupid

I was raised stupid. I wasn’t taught or expected to know anything about anything, especially once I proved my aptitude for failure.

I was left behind, ignored, humored, and condescended to by my educators and parents. It seemed they were all busy with other things, unwilling to sacrifice precious time to waste on a stupid child.

I also didn’t pay attention when someone was actually teaching because I didn’t know how to learn. I usually lost interest in class for a brief moment and daydreamed. Then I was lost and couldn’t find my way back. I didn’t know what I missed and nothing made sense. I was also too ashamed to say anything and I was ridiculed if I was discovered.

I was a lousy student. I was consistently punished for it. Often physically. Dragged out of the second grade classroom and into the hall by the hair on the back of my neck and bare ass spanked. Swatted and paddled in the echoing halls of Middle School with the classroom door open so everyone could hear, or on direct shameful display in front of the class with the overly used cliche’ spoken by my smirking aggressor, “This is going to hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me”. I was continually made the example of the consequences of failure.

I was always just on the edge of failing and usually pulled my grades up at the last minute to keep from repeating. It doesn’t seem like anyone could reach me, or even try and find the magic formula to tempt my interest, so I just fell further and further behind. There were a few true teachers that made a difference, but it never lasted long. I moved away, or they did, or the year was over and the perils of summer simply erased my mind.

After my student career was done, halfway through the tenth grade in the third high school I attended, abrupted by a fleeting decision made by my dad to simply drop out, I perpetually wandered again. It wasn’t until I met some particular people that I even examined my intelligence.

They were smart, well educated, articulate, and accepting. They didn’t care that I was a dropout. They didn’t know how much I failed. They didn’t know about the extent of trouble I had with the law and trying to survive my wayward adolescence. They only knew I was rough around the edges but had a good soul.

The following months, while they were intermittent from their own individual further higher education, I realized, very slowly, that I was becoming their peer. The time I spent listening and engaging in philosophy, history, and general sensibility made me realize that maybe I wasn’t actually stupid. How could I even remotely understand and contribute if I was incapable of intellectual thought?

I was highly uneducated and felt like an outsider, because I was, but as I listened and learned from my reasonably educated friends, it made me want to be educated. Something awakened in me. Like the dull filimient of a primitive light bulb.

I also realized that in school, although I was always on the precipice of failing classes, I always had the intellectual ability to listen and learn. I absorbed from the students around me that actually read the books and did the assignments. I pulled together enough information to pass the final exams that allowed me to advance to the next level. I studied nothing but gathered the minimum knowledge I needed to survive. I even passed the GED exams on a whim without a single moment of studying.

My stupidity was a lie. But my lack of knowledge was a true disability. My grades, trauma, and broken home prevented any opportunity for higher education inside the establishment. But because of one summer, and meeting a particular wonderful set of friends, my mind was enlightened. I didn’t know myself or what I was capable of until then.

Now I’m drawn to smart people. I listen to them and scavenge their education. I have the ability to detect misinformation and judge character. I’ve been on the street, homeless, lived on couches in condos, and employed in mansions. I’ve followed dreams and toiled away for meaningless survival. I’ve been dead broke, worked for nothing or too little to survive. I’ve seen the wealthy and the impoverished show the exact same traits of evil and good. I’ve seen the brainwashed and self righteous oppress and blindly justify themselves. I’ve seen the downtrodden rise above us all. And I’ve seen the intelligent betray themselves by following a frenzy. Abandoning their own instinct for emotion.

My advice for myself and all of society is simple. Examine your stupidity. Categorize it, then listen to those smarter than you. Listen to what they say rather than how they say it. Big words and emotions are a distraction. Intellect is not arrogant or superior. It is simply the reflex of a good soul.

I learned this with the help of my friends and am forever grateful. I probably would have discovered it eventually anyway, but not without listening to my own internal soul.

Knowledge is a forever journey and simply learning how to learn is perhaps the biggest challenge of all.

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Book Review

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It’s strange to read a book by an author I know on a personal level. Although I don’t know them well enough to know where they begin and their character ends. I do know it is a mix of both. The book is a blend of fiction and reality.

It’s strange to know exactly the taste of the dust in the breeze they describe and the color of a specific sky. A geographical place where part of myself also still lives. People I shared real moments with that I can feel through the pages. I can decipher the code and know the actual people who’s names have been changed. I learned of their disappointment in a real person disguised as character building.

It’s like holding the hand of a stranger with the same past. Crossing lives in another dimension, foreign but familiar. Like a kid being friends with their parents friends kids. It just feels a little weird.

It’s a good book, with good intentions, but as someone methodically judgemental, who can feel people and see through facades, I have issues. Don’t worry, I’m not going to point them all out. I have no intention to expose the author or the book.

I find it intriguing that our society has so many quirks. So many crevices and corners of our personalities and beliefs. That people are absolute products of their environments. Myself included.

I can sense a struggle with the characters development and a fear of embracing them fully since the character goes against the authors own beliefs. I assume it’s hard to write about something you don’t understand. An example would be an Atheist character treating suicide as a sin. It doesn’t exactly add up.

It’s interesting to me, especially since I am sadly not an avid reader, that I can see into the depths of someone, knowing only a little information about them. I’m also open to being completely wrong. That’s just as interesting.

I recognize there’s very often a membrane, due to a life of privilege and clouded with religious beliefs, that leave aspects of a partial fictional story bare and shallow. The forbidden topics and underlying sins are left out of the context of the story, and it leaves a giant hole. It’s the same in all forms of art. Sometimes something is missing. It’s a little off. Personally, I compare it to the insincerity of most faith music and pandering politicians.

I even recognize it in my own art forms when I miss the mark. I’m sure we would all fix it if we could, but it’s as complicated as human psychology. It’s like defining “soul” in a guitar solo. It’s just there or it ain’t.

Those same material and spiritual tangents can leave a hole in real life as well, and ironically, they are designed to fill a person up.

I think that’s the saddest thing about a giant portion of humankind. Not knowing how to recognize sincerity and follow our hearts. The intentional confusion and distractions thrown at us by malicious players disconnect us from ourselves and our own spirits.

Recently, we were reminded of that through the death of Sinead O’Connor. That’s all she was ever trying to say, but few listened.

All in all, it was a good story. It’s the author’s first book and I am not much of a reader anyway, unless I have nothing else I can do. I’m not even educated. My opinion is useless. I obviously enjoy the philosophy of it all as much as anything else. And yes, I am just as harsh and critical of myself and it annoys everyone.

Go read a book!