May Probability fall in Line! For Once!

Heading out 2 join my psychological skills w/my affinity 4 the outdoors! Wish me & The Relative (E=mc2) Wilderness School lots of Luck!

Suicide Explained

“The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.” 
― David Foster Wallace

House by the Side of the Road

With the recent vitriol of the election / politics and my somewhat aimless pursuit of "advocacy" (whatever the Hell that means), my grandmother recited this poem to me last night. Apparently, her father memorized it and spoke it often.

The House by the Side of the Road 

THERE are hermit souls that live withdrawn In the place of their self-content; There are souls like stars, that dwell apart, In a fellowless firmament; There are pioneer souls that blaze the paths Where highways never ran- But let me live by the side of the road And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road Where the race of men go by- The men who are good and the men who are bad, As good and as bad as I. I would not sit in the scorner's seat Nor hurl the cynic's ban- Let me live in a house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.

 I see from my house by the side of the road By the side of the highway of life, The men who press with the ardor of hope, The men who are faint with the strife, But I turn not away from their smiles and tears, Both parts of an infinite plan- Let me live in a house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead, And mountains of wearisome height; That the road passes on through the long afternoon And stretches away to the night. And still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice And weep with the strangers that moan, Nor live in my house by the side of the road Like a man who dwells alone.

 Let me live in my house by the side of the road, Where the race of men go by- They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong, Wise, foolish - so am I. Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat, Or hurl the cynic's ban? Let me live in my house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.
**Sam Walter Foss

Great First Hand Account; Paranoid delusions in bipolar disorder

Election Day

I voted for many issues, mental health policy being one of them!

Reverse Fire; Great Concept!

Not a great video but the concept is awesome.  Have done this several times and really like it...its low maintenance.  Which is great if you have misjudged sunset and still have to set up camp! Thumbs Up!

Practice Practice Practice

Got a few packs ready for some field applications! Time to brush up on my bushcrafting techniques! Hope to have some pics and vids of primitive fire & shelters up soon! And my tactical gear stand now looks rather naked!