Greys have no females so have experimented with humanity to successfully interbreed with when humanity was found. Would that be so bad? Or would it just be an evolutionary advance where the result is a new race based on the combination of greys and humans.
So you could look at it as an evolutionary advance for both races.
Good for both races. Just a thought/theory. The new race could have some beef DNA too, thus the "cattle mutilations." :)Just saw a guy on TV with similar view, "mutually beneficial for their (and our) children."
OK, Now that I've opened the can of worms by calling this a blog, I guess I should explore the question of what is a blog? Or what is a blog to me? Since I am the author determining what I write, I suppose the more important question to me here is "what is a blog to me? since that is going to determine what I write. By a like token, the same reasoning should hold as to whether the reader wishes to keep reading, "what is a blog to me, being the author?" Now that I have narrowed in on the question, I can narrow in on an answer. Some blogs, I think define a subject and each article/entry sticks to that subject. My blog, this blog you are reading does not have a set subject, but may vary day to day, entry to entry being whatever I feel like writing about at the time I write it. Probably not the best strategy for developing a regular readership but that is not My goal in writing this. So, what is my goal? Just to write, get thoughts out of my head. So what might be your goal in reading this? Maybe you find my writing funny, interesting, or can just plain relate. Maybe you have run across one of my websites or some other example of my writing and want to get to know me better. I don't know; they are your reasons for reading which may have absolutely nothing (probably have absolutely nothing) to do with my reason for writing.
I decided that before I go to far with this, I must settle this question of what is my blog about, but that is not what got me to write this morning. What actually got me to write this morning is a constant irritant to me. So, on with the blogging (Next Subject)
Before becoming disabled and in constant pain, it was easy to just go along with the standard "I'm fine." answer knowing that is what is expected and is the "proper" answer to the question. And, in most cases, it was even true ... most of the time. But now ...
Here I am five years after the motorcycle crash that disabled me finally realizing that I am never going to get better. And people still have the nerve to look at me hobbling along in my walker, often, quite obviously in severe pain and ask: "How are you today?" I know that they don't really care; they want and expect the standard "I'm Fine." answer but I just can't do it any more. I get some strange looks (often a hurt look) when I reply with the truth. "Not very good." At least I don't tell them how I really feel: Screaming: "Not worth a fuck! I hurt all the time and I can't fucking walk! My ideal life was yanked away from me when I woke up in a hospital! I'll probably never be fine again." That's how I really feel. I don't subject people to that but I just can't bring myself to tell the "I'm Fine." lie any more either, especially since I know that they don't really care; they just think they are supposed to ask. Get a clue people, don't ask unless you really do care and want a truthful answer. A few do and I can tell which. And I'm not sure which is worse, those that know me or those that don't.
So is it me being thoughtless or them? I don't know; I really don't know. I just can't keep living the lie. I'm tired of being the strong one. I'm tired of believing the lie that everything is going to be ok. I know now that it's not. What gave the doctors the right to tell me that I was going to recover 100% when there was nothing to idicate that I would? The passageway for my spinal cord is compressed 50% with shards of broken vertebrae into that compressed space, the hieght is compressed 80%; and the doctors told me 100% recovery? It was 3 years before I wondered why I wasn't getting better and ordered copies of my hospital records and learned the truth. Who gave them the right to lie to me?
So I suffer with the pain and the fact that I cannot walk and probably never will again. I suffer with the depression from those facts. I suffer with the fact that I was lied to telling me that I would recover when there was nothing to indicate that I could or would recover. Yes, I'm bitter; yes, I'm depressed; yes, I feel like my idyllic life was yanked away from me. Is there any reason to feel any different?
I am trying to move on now. I know that I won't walk again. I realize the pain will never go away. I'm past the point of trying to walk and only further hurting myself. I know now that I'll never work again as people don't want to hire someone when they never know when they can work. I don't know until that day whether I will feel up to working. It often just hurts too much. So my life is very different now. Life will become easier to deal with but it's not going to get better. I may never be "fine" again, but I'll be ok. I'm dealing with it. I'm beginning to understand why I have so few "friends" left. As my doctor has told me; people don't want to be around people that feel bad most of the time. People don't know how to deal with that. So I'm no longer rich with the many friends that I had. And it's not that they were only good time friends; they truly were my friends but just don't know how to deal with the new me.
At least I'm getting to a place where I can accept that life goes on and can even accept the changes in that life.