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Index » Radio Paradise/General » General Discussion » True Confessions Page: 1, 2, 3 ... 101, 102, 103  Next
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oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Nov 18, 2020 - 9:03am



 rgio wrote:


 ...


 
Been there, done that.  I have no idea why. 

I also remember at 3 or 4 years old taking a blanket and lying on the forced-air duct in the floor.  Waiting...and waiting...for the glorious moment when the heat would come on.

My mother was raised in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, and my Grandparents' house had large holes in the ceilings/floors to allow for heat to rise.  Still waiting.

 
I have  very similar experiences with both accounts...


rgio

rgio Avatar

Location: West Jersey
Gender: Male


Posted: Nov 18, 2020 - 8:53am



 oldviolin wrote:
...its a book that my Father had and that I read many times as a boy.
My Father told me of the winter time, and that old house they lived in.  It was a worn out old small-town Victorian built 80 years earlier with one of those porches that wrapped all the way around and an integral kitchen off the back where it would get so cold that the water bucket would freeze if more than 3 feet from the wood burning cook stove.

My pop said his bedroom was on the fireplace wall but that's about it for the heat. He spent a lot of time reading his whole life.

I shiver to think of that level of poverty, being spared of it by a good man.

Still, I guess I grew up with my own version, and in the bed at night under the quilt my grandmother made and with a flashlight and my mom's portable hair dryer for heat, I read that book over and over.

The hair dryer was one of those things in a little suitcase with a hose and a bonnet. It blew nice warm heat and when you restricted air from going in the intake the thing glowed red hot.

Fortunately I never fell asleep with it running...


 
Been there, done that.  I have no idea why. 

I also remember at 3 or 4 years old taking a blanket and lying on the forced-air duct in the floor.  Waiting...and waiting...for the glorious moment when the heat would come on.

My mother was raised in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, and my Grandparents' house had large holes in the ceilings/floors to allow for heat to rise.  Still waiting.

oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Nov 18, 2020 - 8:12am

...its a book that my Father had and that I read many times as a boy.
My Father told me of the winter time, and that old house they lived in.  It was a worn out old small-town Victorian built 80 years earlier with one of those porches that wrapped all the way around and an integral kitchen off the back where it would get so cold that the water bucket would freeze if more than 3 feet from the wood burning cook stove.

My pop said his bedroom was on the fireplace wall but that's about it for the heat. He spent a lot of time reading his whole life.

I shiver to think of that level of poverty, being spared of it by a good man.

Still, I guess I grew up with my own version, and in the bed at night under the quilt my grandmother made and with a flashlight and my mom's portable hair dryer for heat, I read that book over and over.

The hair dryer was one of those things in a little suitcase with a hose and a bonnet. It blew nice warm heat and when you restricted air from going in the intake the thing glowed red hot.

Fortunately I never fell asleep with it running...


Ohmsen

Ohmsen Avatar

Location: Valhalla
Gender: Male


Posted: Nov 17, 2020 - 3:00pm



 oldviolin wrote:
My emotional makeup is my greatest strength and like most of us, potentially my greatest weakness.
I could be lying though...
 

Yes.
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Nov 17, 2020 - 2:52pm

My emotional makeup is my greatest strength and like most of us, potentially my greatest weakness.
I could be lying though...
Ohmsen

Ohmsen Avatar

Location: Valhalla
Gender: Male


Posted: Oct 13, 2020 - 3:19pm



 oldviolin wrote:


 Ohmsen wrote:


 
Thank you. 

Good fortune comes our way. 

And we ride down the King's highway.......... 


 

Now you're asking for trouble lolol.

Nah. I just talk too much. It's an alien thing.


 

Perhaps not so alien, after all. 


oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Oct 13, 2020 - 3:12pm



 Ohmsen wrote:


 
Thank you. 

Good fortune comes our way. 

And we ride down the King's highway.......... 


 

Now you're asking for trouble lolol.

Nah. I just talk too much. It's an alien thing.


Ohmsen

Ohmsen Avatar

Location: Valhalla
Gender: Male


Posted: Oct 13, 2020 - 2:34pm



 oldviolin wrote:


 Ohmsen wrote:


 oldviolin wrote:
The point was that reality and truth are personal and have to be lived to believed. That which is illuminated within shines on without. Disconnected from the engine of sorrow and rust of the soul, the remnant gleaming brightly as a product of grief and longing. Absorbed and burned as fuel, fear and pain eventually taper and pinpoint a direction beyond but it is a trail of tears. Of that each one knows for sure.
Aside from that we speculate and confound the argument with conscious if unwilling ignorance.
 

I seem to be getting 'it' by now. Sorry for any "conscious if unwilling" ignorant displeasure caused. Keep in mind, though, you are posting on a public forum here, even if many or few of active posters here are 'family' to you, there might be ones (like me) who keep talking to a 'blank page'. 

Thanks.
 

Wait. Not quite. No discomfort caused whatsoever. That post was an addendum to the deeply and perhaps uncomfortable deleted post before. 
The flaming taper is mine. The willful ignorance. The trail of tears and the terrifying secrets of a child. All personal. All mine. Perhaps your's but not by design. I'm a conduit.
You are as equally family to me here as anyone else. I'm painting a self portrait while looking in a mirror. I'm seeing the beauty and seeing the ugliness in myself and I'm attempting a clever facade from deep down inside for public consumption. 
Somewhere between faith and performance art.
All my reality. All my truth. All my pain.

I'm bubbling to the surface
carried by music and often ridiculous notions of wordplay. Over the top is a melody of my life and experiences and love of God's face, perfectly permanent in imperfect and impermanent human beings.
Rendered. Forgiven. Survived.
All virtual. All slowly sculpting a long goodbye for themselves.

I'm saying many things at once, and one thing many times.

If somehow in my obscure way I have offended anyone here I ask forgiveness. I'm not a judge. I am only a messenger. 



 

 

Thank you. 

Good fortune comes our way. 

And we ride down the King's highway.......... 


oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Oct 13, 2020 - 2:00pm



 Ohmsen wrote:


 oldviolin wrote:
The point was that reality and truth are personal and have to be lived to believed. That which is illuminated within shines on without. Disconnected from the engine of sorrow and rust of the soul, the remnant gleaming brightly as a product of grief and longing. Absorbed and burned as fuel, fear and pain eventually taper and pinpoint a direction beyond but it is a trail of tears. Of that each one knows for sure.
Aside from that we speculate and confound the argument with conscious if unwilling ignorance.
 

I seem to be getting 'it' by now. Sorry for any "conscious if unwilling" ignorant displeasure caused. Keep in mind, though, you are posting on a public forum here, even if many or few of active posters here are 'family' to you, there might be ones (like me) who keep talking to a 'blank page'. 

Thanks.
 

Wait. Not quite. No discomfort caused whatsoever. That post was an addendum to the deeply and perhaps uncomfortable deleted post before. 
The flaming taper is mine. The willful ignorance. The trail of tears and the terrifying secrets of a child. All personal. All mine. Perhaps your's but not by design. I'm a conduit.
You are as equally family to me here as anyone else. I'm painting a self portrait while looking in a mirror. I'm seeing the beauty and seeing the ugliness in myself and I'm attempting a clever facade from deep down inside for public consumption. 
Somewhere between faith and performance art.
All my reality. All my truth. All my pain.

I'm bubbling to the surface
carried by music and often ridiculous notions of wordplay. Over the top is a melody of my life and experiences and love of God's face, perfectly permanent in imperfect and impermanent human beings.
Rendered. Forgiven. Survived.
All virtual. All slowly sculpting a long goodbye for themselves.

I'm saying many things at once, and one thing many times.

If somehow in my obscure way I have offended anyone here I ask forgiveness. I'm not a judge. I am only a messenger. 



 

Ohmsen

Ohmsen Avatar

Location: Valhalla
Gender: Male


Posted: Oct 13, 2020 - 1:29pm



 oldviolin wrote:
The point was that reality and truth are personal and have to be lived to believed. That which is illuminated within shines on without. Disconnected from the engine of sorrow and rust of the soul, the remnant gleaming brightly as a product of grief and longing. Absorbed and burned as fuel, fear and pain eventually taper and pinpoint a direction beyond but it is a trail of tears. Of that each one knows for sure.
Aside from that we speculate and confound the argument with conscious if unwilling ignorance.
 

I seem to be getting 'it' by now. Sorry for any "conscious if unwilling" ignorant displeasure caused. Keep in mind, though, you are posting on a public forum here, even if many or few of active posters here are 'family' to you, there might be ones (like me) who keep talking to a 'blank page'. 

It'd be hard to say for me without getting personal again, but my guts keep telling me, it's about compassion to the self.

Thanks for the heads-up, Bud.
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Oct 13, 2020 - 1:16pm

The point was that reality and truth are personal and have to be lived to believed. That which is illuminated within shines on without. Disconnected from the engine of sorrow and rust of the soul, the remnant gleaming brightly as a product of grief and longing. Absorbed and burned as fuel, fear and pain eventually taper and pinpoint a direction beyond but it is a trail of tears. Of that each one knows for sure.
Aside from that we speculate and confound the argument with conscious if unwilling ignorance.
Coaxial

Coaxial Avatar

Location: 543 miles west of Paradis,1491 miles eas
Gender: Male


Posted: Oct 11, 2020 - 3:20pm

 oldviolin wrote:
 
 
{#Hug}
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Oct 7, 2020 - 8:59pm

I need some exhausting sax about now...



oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Sep 4, 2020 - 5:15pm

...Remembering old Wild Bill. No, not that guy. He'll have to tell his own stories. They're likely far more interesting than mine. 
{#Shhh}
{#Good-vibes}

 I'm talking about old 
Wild Bill from olive drab days gone by. He was from West Virginia and funny as hell (sic) when he got drunk.
He stood about 5'4" of clown dumpling and his drawl was way worse than mine. Must have been the hillbilly in him. 
He was a couple years behind me in time in service and wanted to go home so bad. Said he had a girl back there. Germany was a long way from WVa. and North Carolina. 

I was with him one night when he got so drunk that while standing in front of a urinal he fell face first and knocked himself out on the flush valve.
It wasn't really funny then but now, the picture of the scene in my mind is kinda. You had to know Wild Bill.
That was a name we gave him. Most of us had nicknames over there. Mine was Haney. Actually only my room mate and a couple other guys called me that. He's the one that gave it to me so I guess he was uniquely qualified.
I had another nickname but...anyway
Make of all that what you will...
Coaxial

Coaxial Avatar

Location: 543 miles west of Paradis,1491 miles eas
Gender: Male


Posted: Sep 2, 2020 - 5:19am

 oldviolin wrote:
I know I've told this before, but I witnessed a KKK hoedown when I was about 10 or 11. Hoods. Torches. Chanting. Parading. Frightening.

It was off a dirt road in a field adjacent to a small community of black families. 

It is as surreal a memory as it was when I went to visit my cousin, who lived on that dirt road, and we watched for awhile hidden behind the hedges.

There is far more to acknowledge and be thankful for than there is reason to destroy all the progress and sacrifice evident in every day life. In fact there will never be a reason for that, because evil is already defeated. We are in a lag time where the evidence of things hoped for is the assurance of the evidence of things not seen, and all because we never gave up.

But for the grace of God and the faith and active belief in something way greater and more beautiful did we teach a child the way to go, and it was not the way of the world. It was their still small voice we heard.
It was at such a time as this the air became foul with lies so someone might be able to know the difference...
 
{#Meditate}
haresfur

haresfur Avatar

Location: The Golden Triangle
Gender: Male


Posted: Sep 1, 2020 - 3:09pm



 oldviolin wrote:
I know I've told this before, but I witnessed a KKK hoedown when I was about 10 or 11. Hoods. Torches. Chanting. Parading. Frightening.

It was off a dirt road in a field adjacent to a small community of black families. 

It is as surreal a memory as it was when I went to visit my cousin, who lived on that dirt road, and we watched for awhile hidden behind the hedges.

There is far more to acknowledge and be thankful for than there is reason to destroy all the progress and sacrifice evident in every day life. In fact there will never be a reason for that, because evil is already defeated. We are in a lag time where the evidence of things hoped for is the assurance of the evidence of things not seen, and all because we never gave up.

But for the grace of God and the faith and active belief in something way greater and more beautiful did we teach a child the way to go, and it was not the way of the world. It was their still small voice we heard.
It was at such a time as this the air became foul with lies so someone might be able to know the difference...
 

wow! 
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Sep 1, 2020 - 1:48pm

I know I've told this before, but I witnessed a KKK hoedown when I was about 10 or 11. Hoods. Torches. Chanting. Parading. Frightening.

It was off a dirt road in a field adjacent to a small community of black families. 

It is as surreal a memory as it was when I went to visit my cousin, who lived on that dirt road, and we watched for awhile hidden behind the hedges.

There is far more to acknowledge and be thankful for than there is reason to destroy all the progress and sacrifice evident in every day life. In fact there will never be a reason for that, because evil is already defeated. We are in a lag time where the evidence of things hoped for is the assurance of the evidence of things not seen, and all because we never gave up.

But for the grace of God and the faith and active belief in something way greater and more beautiful did we teach a child the way to go, and it was not the way of the world. It was their still small voice we heard.
It was at such a time as this the air became foul with lies so someone might be able to know the difference...
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 23, 2020 - 8:52am



 miamizsun wrote:


hey digitalcrucifixtion.com is available

just think of the public shaming and suffering

bits and bytes = the new sticks and stones

my challenge is that i'm all out of political horse sh*t and intentional cruelty

but there's always twitter...
 
Ah yes. Salvation via sponsorship...

miamizsun

miamizsun Avatar

Location: (3261.3 Miles SE of RP)
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 23, 2020 - 8:48am

 oldviolin wrote:


 miamizsun wrote:


the crucifixion business might have really taken off if they had that kind of tool...
 
Hey I saw the ending of Spartacus and business was booming. Maybe a modern resurgence?

 

hey digitalcrucifixtion.com is available

just think of the public shaming and suffering

bits and bytes = the new sticks and stones

my challenge is that i'm all out of political horse sh*t and intentional cruelty

but there's always twitter...
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 23, 2020 - 8:41am



 miamizsun wrote:


the crucifixion business might have really taken off if they had that kind of tool...
 
Hey I saw the ending of Spartacus and business was booming. Maybe a modern resurgence?

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