Sai Somsphet

WIP

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  • 6 Comments
Joined 1 year ago
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Cake day: July 1st, 2023

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  • I get your point, I really do, but Homefront was also about the economic collapse of the American system caused by its own corruption.

    I always got the idea that Korea wasn’t incredibly overpowered united, but America was already broken and a step away from being conquered already and the first army to invade happened to be Korea. The rest of the world just wanted to see what would happen.

    Kind of like having Russia invade Ukraine only to have it’s nose beaten in and globally embarrassed. Doesn’t mean Ukraine is going to invade and conquer, just that a global super power can be defeated by a smaller united nation after decades of corruption.

    At least that’s the idea that got me through the game. It was honestly just a COD reskin of a game and wasn’t actually that good in retrospect



  • Don’t blame his autism. Seriously. I’m autistic. My wife and two sons are also on the spectrum. The people I care most about outside my own family are on the spectrum.

    None of us act like this. This is entirely 100% Elon Musk is a terrible human being.

    Don’t excuse his behavior.

    Don’t shift the blame onto us.

    Don’t use his shitty personality, his shitty world views, or his current actions as a reason to insult us further.

    His actions are his own, and he alone is responsible for being this terrible of a person.

    I have never once met a single person on the spectrum who actually acts like Elon at all. I promise you, this is all Elon’s own personal narcissistic attitude and that’s it. He is a rich entitled billionaire and that’s it.

    His autism is not an excuse for this shitty behavior, his autism is not an excuse to be this cartoonishly evil. His autism is not an excuse. Stop using his autism as an explanation for any of this. He is simply a rich person with horrible ethics and morals. His autism didn’t make him like this. This is his entire life’s choices and faults.


  • My dad was given two years to live.

    In his third year, he made an Elkhorn cane for me.

    He died after four years of fighting.

    No matter what, the hospital did everything medical science could do. At the time. Even now, due to his circumstances, he wouldnt have had much more time. If he took medical marijuana, MAYBE it could have bought him another two years. Maybe it would have made his last two years pain free. But that’s it. It was too far advanced by the time they found the cancer.

    Maybe if it was found sooner, but he refused the proper treatments that would have found it sooner.

    Maybe if medical science was more advanced, but the hospital he went to is still active and highly regarded as one of the most effective and trusted resources for cancer treatment. He got the best medical treatment possible at the time, and the doctors already pushed the treatments to their theoretical limits.

    Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

    But he did change. I never saw him get weaker or waste away. He always seemed so strong. He became kinder and in the end left me with only happy kind memories. I know he was still abusive when I was younger. But he looked at the time he had and decided he wanted to use those two years to be a better father. To give us memories of a man who wanted to be a better person.

    When he survived that second year, we all assumed he was going to win. He didn’t. He knew he was still dying and so he spent every day as if he wasn’t going to survive. Made arrangements, spent time with us. Said goodbye in his own way. Found his peace. Everyone thought the Elkhorn cane was for him. I was the only one who helped him make it. When he died, the cane was his for only about half a year. Maybe a year and a half at most. It’s been almost two decades since then.

    I still see it as his cane. The oils from my hands have worn parts to a shine. My own hands have smoothed the Elkhorn down. It has been mine for decades,for years longer then it has ever been his.

    But this thing? This cane? My father made it for me. He left symbols on it. Little marks that no one else would have noticed. It connects me to him, and through him, to my tribe. It’s his cane but it’s mine. It’s a show of his determination to be a better father. Running out of time, but still trying to be a better father then he was the day before. His final message to me about this cane, was “this is not a weapon.”

    His final lessons, were to be better. Kinder. He didn’t have time to teach me everything. So he had to leave it to little memories, little details, little reminders. So that even in death, he could lead by example and be an example he wanted me to learn from and follow.

    The cane long ago became mine by right. It’s still his by connection.

    Maybe medical science could eventually have given him more life. Maybe.

    I can’t live my life based off of a maybe though. It was out of our hands. He fought for every day. He died as a better person, then he was when he was first diagnosed. And that’s enough sometimes. Sometimes it’s better then a maybe.

    Maybe sometimes I just miss my dad.