Have any sad stories from your life?
Like your gran had a stroke at your eighth birthday party and fell down still holding her paper plate of cake, or you're statistically more likely to develop cervical cancer because you married a man who'd been with a hundred women, or no matter how good a job you're doing in Dayton you're never going to be promoted to Virginia, even though you've put off marriage 'n children for your career, which pays a third what you could have made in the commercial sector, and you're nearing menopause and as you drink too much most nights, you find yourself wondering if it was all worth it? (And so you take it out on your much more capable and better-looking underling.)
I'm not saying those examples are actually miasma from my life, just throwing them out to guide your inner melancholy like a dying star in the tragic east.
Now if you're ready, this is the worst and most tragic true thing I could think of that wouldn't actually leave everyone who read it crying. If you notice in a second, it's also movie related, which I think is a plus here.
100% true --> In 1983, when I was four and a half, I was supposed to go see The Return of the Jedi, which was a kinda big deal because my dad was in grad school and we were poor and rarely went to movies, but I busted my nose real badly because I walked into a malfunctioning automatic door at Kroger's down from the multiplex, and had to go to hospital, and what's worse is later I found out if automatic doors don't open for you, like that one didn't open for me, it means, according to my cousin, who is never wrong about these things, you don't have a soul like most people do, so that's bad too....though I admit it would explain a lot.
Gloom shared is gloom squared.
You are strange. I'm starting to like you. :teddyr:
My brother died before he reached the age I am approaching. It makes me sad that my goal is to get to be older than he got.
I was at an orgy once. I was fully clothed, in work boots and winter clothes, drunk out of my skull,nursing a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table with some gal. :bluesad:
I don't like getting naked with a bunch of people and ending up like a can of worms.
So I sat in the kitchen guzzling whiskey. And this gal Penny Sherburn felt the same way.We snorted coke (this was the 80's) and drank booze and listened to the radio.
Then there is the sad fact my parents promised me a dog for eight years before they finally got me one.
I used to tell them I was going to remember that when I left school at fifteen to start going out with a twice-divorced biker in the reactionary wing of the Church of Scientology, but oddly that threat didn't produce a four-legged best friend any faster.
My pants fell down in a room full of people when I was drunk.
I just came out of the bathroom, and I was hammered. :bluesad:
It was my apartment, so it wasn't too bad.
Who am I fooling. It was horrible.
My father passed away on Christmas Eve 1999 after a brutal, but thankfully brief, battle with leukemia. It was a few years before it felt "okay" to celebrate the holidays again. To this day, my brother and I still have a few too many on Christmas Eve, since we're drinking "for the old man" too.
Quote from: RCMerchant on August 08, 2019, 09:22:07 PM
My pants fell down in a room full of people when I was drunk.
I just came out of the bathroom, and I was hammered. :bluesad:
It was my apartment, so it wasn't too bad.
Who am I fooling. It was horrible.
That's not sad, that's embarrassing.
Quote from: FatFreddysCat on August 08, 2019, 09:39:30 PM
My father passed away on Christmas Eve 1999 after a brutal, but thankfully brief, battle with leukemia. It was a few years before it felt "okay" to celebrate the holidays again. To this day, my brother and I still have a few too many on Christmas Eve, since we're drinking "for the old man" too.
I see the sad, but that's cool. :thumbup:
I reckon there is lotsa sad s**t I have had happen. I don't like to talk about it- nobody really want's to hear it. So that works out just fine.
Quote from: FatFreddysCat on August 08, 2019, 09:39:30 PM
My father passed away on Christmas Eve 1999 after a brutal, but thankfully brief, battle with leukemia. It was a few years before it felt "okay" to celebrate the holidays again. To this day, my brother and I still have a few too many on Christmas Eve, since we're drinking "for the old man" too.
Me sweetheart Tara Sue died on Xmas Eve in 2008. From cancer. She was 46.
Has it been that long? :bluesad:
I thought you were over the sad stories...
Quote from: Allhallowsday on August 08, 2019, 11:12:07 PM
I thought you were over the sad stories...
Yeah... but I couldn't help but thinking when Christmas was mentioned...I dunno...I'm human just like everyone else.
An abandoned, abused child: that's me in a nutshell :bluesad:
Quote from: Trevor on August 09, 2019, 09:41:46 AM
An abandoned, abused child: that's me in a nutshell :bluesad:
I think you own the ultimate sad story here, Trevor. "One day when I was growing up, my country ceased to exist..."
Pretty bad.
I was thinking of another of my tales of woe just now. When I was eighteen I got accepted into a well-regarded East Coast university, scholarships, the whole nine yards, the ultimate validation of all my years at an academically demanding high school, and I turned the university down because I wanted to stay home so I could be with the man I loved.
Flash forward a bit and I was contractually obligated to go work in the same general vicinity of the university I declined to enter, and by having to go there I ended us all the same, without getting to go to that college. :-(
Or maybe that's more ironic.
I dunno- should I cry about my brother Richie shooting himself in the head? Or listening to my mother scream in pain as my dad beat the s**t out off her while we kids hid under the bed crying?
I try to quit crying. Of course it's always in my brain.
I reckon we all got sad tales to tell. :bluesad:
Quote from: RCMerchant on August 09, 2019, 02:03:49 PM
I dunno- should I cry about my brother Richie shooting himself in the head? Or listening to my mother scream in pain as my dad beat the s**t out off her while we kids hid under the bed crying?
I try to quit crying. Of course it's always in my brain.
I reckon we all got sad tales to tell. :bluesad:
You've had a tough life, Ronnie, but you've somehow kept going.
You may be a train wreck, but you're OUR train wreck!
Quote from: RCMerchant on August 09, 2019, 02:03:49 PM
I dunno- should I cry about my brother Richie shooting himself in the head? Or listening to my mother scream in pain as my dad beat the s**t out off her while we kids hid under the bed crying?
I try to quit crying. Of course it's always in my brain.
I reckon we all got sad tales to tell. :bluesad:
f**king hell, that's worse than all my bad hair days.
When I was about four I was home alone with my dad while my mom went to a night class she was taking, and my dad was trying to get his studying done, so he told me Easter came early that year (this was wintertime) and there was an Easter basket hidden somewhere in our townhouse, and I should go find it.
I searched high and low for that "Easter basket" til finally my mom came home and asked what I was doing, and when I told her she shot a "WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU?" look at my dad....and gave me a five-dollar bill, lol.
I do think Dad would've let me look all evening.
In a spelling bee, I once misspelled the word "intelligence." Again, I often walked the thin border between sad and ironic.