Thank you for including me in the dirt shooting.
Sigmund Freud would say that sucking on a pacifier would represent a
need for a soothing and nurturing attachment like suckling. It says
that we
are searching for a way to regulate your emotions through a behavior.
It is repetitive behaviors that reduce our angst. Another hand, Another
bet, Another press of the button, Another hit, Another post, Another
line, Another escapade, Another win. We always need to repeat it one more time.
We are never satisfied with what life gives us, we always need some how suck
more out of life. We suck repetitively on our “pacifiers” to get more out of
life. But then to get more, our “pacifiers” suck the life out of us.
My bracket is done for also, I feel your pain. Losing is one thing, but
seeing your dream for this year come to an ending can be devastating.
I am finished after the first week of the playoffs in my fantasy
basketball
league. I lost by one rebound and one steal. I started Kevin Love who
left the game in the 2nd quarter. Had he played the game I am sure he
would come up with at least one more rebound, maybe the steal I needed. I
felt bad for Kevin Love as he hobbled off, but a part of me thought
that he even though he could not run, perhaps he could stand under the
basket to pull down two rebounds for me. He never came out of the locker
room.
I watched as Kobe Bryant stole the ball in the 4th quarter to end my fantasy
season. Bitten by the Black Mamba I could feel it's venomous poison
killing my team. I knew that it was the end, my precious team was now
dead, just like my
bracket. To have them both die in the same weekend was tragic.
I can take losing, it is the ending and quitting part that really sucks.
Sucks the life right out of me, perhaps pulling a part of us with it as it
dies.
I got online looking for something to bet but the Laker game was the last game
of the night. No NBA action for the rest of the night. It was completely
dead and I was dying inside.
There are countless ways to get to "dead" but they are all the same. Given enough repetition our “pacifiers” evolve into
Serial Killaz. Six million ways to die, chose one.