user since
Thu Aug 10 2000 at 08:28:52 (24.3 years ago )
last seen
Fri Dec 13 2024 at 19:28:57 (8 hours ago )
number of write-ups
201 - View liha's writeups (feed)
level / experience
12 (Laureate) / 8619
C!s spent
287
mission drive within everything
Embracing my inner hag
specialties
flirting with my expiration date
school/company
Faux GIR
motto
dance like people wish they weren't watching
most recent writeup
December 8, 2024
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See that...up thar? That's me 'n Ken. Long ago. In a junk yard far.. far... away.

"How wonderful to be alive. I am sorry for forgetting." ~ inkskinned

“We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing." ~ Charles Bukowski



  • Effective October 24, 2004, liha will be residing in Colorado.
  • Update: 8/2006 - I quit smoking.
    I will probably never node again. Never been much of a writer.. and now... well.. now ya'll intimidate the crap outta me.
  • Update: 2017. Hello. Wow. I still have nodes. Moved to WY. Had a kid at 40. I've always been a little behind..
  • Update: October 2024. I feel like I opened a time capsule. Depression is still a bitch but the highs are so much fun. I miss this place. Maybe I'll node some.
  • ^


    Blaming your faults on your nature does not change the nature of your faults.



    Icy now.. Thanks for everything. Hugs and kisses. X X X X Zero Zero Zero Zero







    The Owl Depression Poster
    by Boggle the Owl

    I don't like the phrase "a cry for help." I just don't like
    how it sounds. When somebody says to me, "I'm thinking
    about suicide, I have a plan; I just need a reason not to
    do it," the last thing I see is helplessness.

    I think: Your depression has been beating you up for years.
    It's called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and a failure,
    for so long that you've forgotten that it's wrong. You don't
    see any good in yourself, and you don't have any hope.

    But still, here you are; you've come over to me, banged on my
    door and said, "Hey! Staying alive is really hard right now!
    Just give me something to fight with! I don't care if it's
    a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!"

    How is that helpless? I think that's incredible. You're like
    a marine: trapped for years behind enemy lines, you gun
    has been taken away, you're out of ammo, you're
    malnourished, and you've probably caught some kind of
    jungle virus that's making you hallucinate giant spiders.

    And you're still just going, "GIVE ME A STICK.
    I'M NOT DYING HERE.
    "

    A "cry for help" makes it sound like I'm supposed to
    take pity on you. But you don't need my pity. This isn't
    pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans
    lived long enough to become the dominant species.

    With no hope, running on nothing, you're ready to cut
    through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing
    but a stick, if that's what it takes to get to safety.

    All I am doing is handing out sticks.

    You're the one staying alive.

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