Author Topic: Where are you Mr H?  (Read 954 times)

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Holden

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Where are you Mr H?
« on: March 30, 2015, 07:57:01 am »
lets not let this forum die!
La Tristesse Durera Toujours                                  (The Sadness Lasts Forever ...)
-van Gogh.

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forthebirds

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Re: Where are you Mr H?
« Reply #1 on: April 03, 2015, 09:36:27 pm »
Hi Holden. He'll probably show up eventually... Hope you've been well, my friend!

Holden

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Re: Where are you Mr H?
« Reply #2 on: April 04, 2015, 08:22:13 am »
Hi! yes I am okay.Haven't seen Mr H for more than a month now.I hope he's okay.
Keep well my friend!
La Tristesse Durera Toujours                                  (The Sadness Lasts Forever ...)
-van Gogh.

forthebirds

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Re: Where are you Mr H?
« Reply #3 on: April 07, 2015, 02:49:58 pm »
you too buddy... keep thinking, keep learning... that is what I am doing.

Gorticide :: Admin Elder Warrior Nuclear-Bum

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Re: Where are you Mr H?
« Reply #4 on: May 11, 2015, 11:41:44 pm »
I was arrested on March 9th.  I was just released and am to appear for sentencing in July.  I am not permitted back at my apartment because a neighbor is terrified of me.  I have to go there with police escort in order to pick up my 150+ notebooks and whatever else I can salvage.  Many cockroaches infested things while I've been locked up.  Supposedly my notebooks were all over the apartment even though I had them organized in boxes. 

Like I said, I just got released tonight (Monday night).  It's almost midnight, my mom has the flu ... I have to contact probation officer tomorrow and then contact police when I am ready to retrieve wallet (with ID) and journals.  I will most likely trash all clothes and kitchen supplies and start over once again.  I will be on probation for a few years.  If I screw up, I face 5 years ... Terroristic Threats.  I won't go into details.

My plan is ... after I put my "life's work" in storage, plant flowers for my mom, clean her carpets, meet with probation officer and the rest ... is to build a computer from scratch, find an inexpensive scanner, scan most of my diaries into digital format, save them on several devices (flashdrives and CDs) ... and eventually get a campsite and burn the diaries so I won't have to go theough what I have been through. 

I just don't have anyone I can count on to preserve these damn notebooks. 

I even begged my sister to post to this site 2 months ago, but she wasn't willing to do this.

I sent letters to a friend and my mother too, and they didn't think it was very important to post a message.  I asked them to give my name and the address of the jail I was being held in so that HT (Holden) could correspond with me.  Holden is my only "receiver" and I wanted to contact him.  Nobody did it.

I wrote 500 pages while I was in there.  I am in no rush to type the stuff up.   :-\

Now I am exhausted ... a very long and stressful day.

- Henry Fool

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twoF56_e9mU
Things They Will Never Tell YouArthur Schopenhauer has been the most radical and defiant of all troublemakers.

Gorticide @ Nothing that is so, is so DOT edu

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Gorticide :: Admin Elder Warrior Nuclear-Bum

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Re: Where are you Mr H?
« Reply #5 on: July 09, 2015, 12:04:02 am »
Wow ... It's all about these notebooks!  Court has been postponed until August 28th, and I am more than halfway through Operation: Digitize Diaries ... 100 down, about 50 or so to go.

I may have found someone who will permit me to burn the diaries in her yard as she has a fire-pit.


wallflower
« Last Edit: July 09, 2015, 09:43:38 am by H »
Things They Will Never Tell YouArthur Schopenhauer has been the most radical and defiant of all troublemakers.

Gorticide @ Nothing that is so, is so DOT edu

~ Tabak und Kaffee Süchtigen ~

Trachycarpus

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Re: Where are you Mr H?
« Reply #6 on: July 12, 2015, 09:46:22 pm »
I would have held onto your notebooks for you but I wouldn't want to be responsible.  I can't think of anywhere that I would put them.  I have a basement storage unit now up here in Red Bank, but it is a basement.  Not much room in there, either. 

What are you up to? 

Holden

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Re: Where are you Mr H?
« Reply #7 on: July 14, 2015, 02:09:00 am »
This is just my pathetic piece; my own strutting and fretting about the stage before I am no more.

I think it's quite easy to explain why suicide is generally postponed as long as possible. It's terrifying! Of course I don't like (putting it mildly) being here, but the alternative fills me with the dread of the unknown. What horrors might await me beyond this present nightmare? I don't want to go out on a bad note. A bullet, poison, a long fall... what the **** is supposedly so easy about any of those?! I am hardwired by this physical world to be absolutely convinced that if I maintain, I will adapt and overcome. However, the logical part of me acknowledges that this cannot be the case. I will die sooner or later. My better half (gnostic side) is convinced that sooner is better. Everything will have been done in vain either way. I greatly desire to follow the urge of my better half, but again, I fear the unknown. I see the world by which I am surrounded and I see only deception and decay. Things do not get better. They break down. A wound that heals or an illness that passes is merely an illusion of improvement because entropy is constantly at work on the cells in my body and the universe I inhabit. Who can say whether the afterlife (assuming there is one) will be any different? So, I come full circle. What guarantee do I have that I will be free when I leave this place behind? In the prison of my mind... there is no guarantee, and my faith died long ago.

I slap on a "happy" mask and go on about my mundane day to day business when I must. I have no real choice in the matter. The rest of the time I am free to be silent. I do my best to fill the empty void with hope. Now, I admit that "hope" may just be some empty emotion that serves no purpose other than to prolong my agony as long as possible, but when confronted with my personal reality... what other option do I have? *sigh* I'll end up dying of old age at this rate. I am lost. I don't know where to turn. I cannot trust anyone or even myself. I am made of meat, and I am afraid. Suicide is painless? *chuckles* Yeah... right.

Thanks a lot mom and dad. You're both just wonderful. The only "sacrifice" parents make is that of their offspring to "Mother Nature". What the hell did any of us do to deserve this? Oh, right, absolutely nothing. Because "nothing" is what we were, and it is how we should have remained.
La Tristesse Durera Toujours                                  (The Sadness Lasts Forever ...)
-van Gogh.

Gorticide :: Admin Elder Warrior Nuclear-Bum

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Re: Where are you Mr H?
« Reply #8 on: July 14, 2015, 11:10:08 pm »
It is best that you face your authentic reaction to having been born, Holden.  You know that we are in quite a predicament.  Keep writing about it. 

Well, Trachycarpus, I have managed to liberate myself from my self-destructive drinking bouts for the moment, so I am really taking full advantage of the clear mind.  Rather than forking more money over to yet another slumlord, I have decided to stay with my aging mother who appreciates my presence.   I want to stay out of trouble which means I am isolating ... which happens to be very conducive to the current project.

Don't worry about the preservation of the actual notebooks.  85% of what I have written has been entirely for therapeutic purposes, another 10% is scholarly research, and about 5% my own philosophizing ... It took a close call with almost losing them to a slumlord to motivate me to settle down and get an inexpensive scanner.  I just want to be able to read bits of the notes now and then ... and to meditate deeply on some of it ...

Life has been an absurd blur, and I wonder if there is anything we can call a self.  So much of what I have scribbled was about what I intended to happen, and there has been one unforeseen disaster after another.  It makes me appreciate this moment.  I don't know.  I wish some of the thinkers I respect so much, like Schopenhauer and Cioran, had preserved some of their sloppy notes ... like what they worried about on a regular basis ... mundane things like what they ate ... what they slept on ...

In this age of blogs, it is clear that there is a limit to what we will be able to focus our attention on.

Sometimes I am most content just going through some technical information and learning how to issue commands in Linux.  It's ok to be in my own little world.  If I am now obsessed with literature and my own notes, well ... I have much documentation of times where I could barely hold a pen ...

I guess being in a cell this last time made an impression on me where I know what I want to do before I die or disappear.  Our lives may seem very insignificant, and, when we ponder the vastness of time and space, we are dust particles, but this does not correspond to our subjective inner experience.   Within our inner life, we are it. 

Going through my notes before burning them has been like my life flashing before my eyes ... and, while it is all so ridiculous and absurd, I have been contemplative along the way.  Like I placed on the top of this message board, "My intellect has exhausted itself in order to demonstrate its own limitations."

I face the limitations of words.  I'm cherishing tobacco, coffee, and access to literature ... pens, notebooks, and digital computers.  When I look too closely at this world, it is, as Holden suggests above, a swamp of misery.  I still enjoy learning ... I don't own a telephone or watch TV, but I am presently appreciating computer technology, incorporating it into my love of books ...

Ah, there is no security.  It is scary to witness how easily any of us can disappear into the institutions which manage the chaos.  I understand why people want to hide, and I don't blame the Hikikomoris for their total isolation from the work-a-day world.

I no longer try to convince others to escape their harness.  Why have I been blessed with the curse of unemployable personality?  I wonder when the wheels are going to fall off ...

How do you like Red Bank?  I lived there once ... in a group home called Habcore.

The library is alright there ... but there's not enough woods.  There's a bus that goes to Brookdale.  It's a shame education is so expensive.  It might be fun just to take a course for contact with like-minded individuals, huh?
Things They Will Never Tell YouArthur Schopenhauer has been the most radical and defiant of all troublemakers.

Gorticide @ Nothing that is so, is so DOT edu

~ Tabak und Kaffee Süchtigen ~