What’s in a Rojo?

A few weeks ago Tin Man sent out a tweet suggesting that a few bloggers should post about their online handle and the story behind it.  I always find these back stories to be interesting because it gives a little insight into the personality of the writer on a more personal level.  You can read about the Recycled Male here.

My twitter handle is Rojo Escobarrio.  The surname is a bit of a joke that started after my friend Gordo dubbed me Rojo.  I’m not a ginger by any sort of the meaning.  When I grow my hair long it does become an unmistakable color of the soulless, red.  But, more importantly, I sport a red beard.  The surname is a play off of the things I create.  See, I moved to this town and I knew two people.  Therefore I made friends through my workplace and my local neighbors.  There were a number of concoctions and baked goods that contained psychotropic highs that were passed around, for free, because I’m a giver.  It was joked about that I was the poor man’s cartel, thus Escobarrio was created.  However at the time, I was HUGE, and not in a good way.  I looked like a balloon that was about to pop.  I was around 285 pounds and just disgustingly overweight.  Do I blame anyone?  Yes, I fucking do.  I blame zoloft and myself.  Zoloft changed my metabolism to a snails pace, and I picked up and kept taking the drug for days on end.  So we’re both guilty.

Which brings me to my next point.  According to a number of quacks, I am Bi Polar II, with psychosis.  I’m not crazy by any means.  If anything, I’ve had the most bitter taste of life and react accordingly.  Many people live desperate and isolated lives, and that does not make them special, it gives them purpose.  At any rate, the increased amount of psychotropic drugs I was taking, and I took a fucking buffet of them, trying this and trying that, only aided the mental challenges I was trying to overcome.

Combine all of that with a series of long term relationships where I started out as the dominant male, then moved into the relationship pleaser.  I’m sure a number of men can emphasize with that part of my journey.  I was reflecting on this joyous yet tumultuous relationship I had with a beautiful Grecian female, and I can clearly see the error of my ways.  This was also, about 4 years before I found the sphere.  In the beginning, I was confident, dominant, and assertive.  I got what I wanted when I wanted it.  I would give her orgasms with out penetration.  She would support me even though I was in and out of jail.  I was unemployed, she paid for everything.  But somehow, my mentality changed from, this is what I want, to, hopefully this will work for her.

See what she wanted was the dominant side of me.  She wanted me to take control and not accept her petty crap.  Instead, I succumbed to the shitty romcom style of dealing with a girl and she dumped me.  The reason I mention this is because there’s a reason.  Everyday I am reborn.  Everyday I have a chance to change my life, every moment, every second.

I started this blog to relate my experiences after consuming much of the sphere.  Before I decided not to be a fatass.  I’m not there yet by any means, but my confidence has risen much higher than my thin ass high school kid ego could comprehend.

Thus, as you view this page, you view a Rorschach like drawing of the mythical Phoenix rising.  Go look at the Pheonix wiki page, it is commonly associated with the sun.  I hate the sun because I’m a pale motherfucker, but at the same time, I love the shit out of my sun, because it gives me growth.  It’s also responsible for our gravitational reality, among many other things.

In this brilliant speculative fiction novel I read by John Ringo,  He speaks of reality in terms of gravitational force.  Trying to describe his muse, he says to a fellow crew member, “Picture this in two dimensional fashion.” *word to readers, this is not two dimensional, as space is not, so I will expound.*   This is not verbatim from the book.  If you want to know what book it is, hit me up on twitter or follow me.  Basically what is stated in the text goes, “picture a bowling ball being dropped on a big trampoline.  The trampoline is the universe.  The bowling ball is the sun.  Now instead of just dropping that bowling ball, apply revolutions, spin it.  What happens when it reaches the trampolines surface?  Friction.  It draws all aspects of that trampoline around it, twisting them into it’s reality.”  Creating friction and moving forward draws all surroundings into it’s reality.

My convergence, into the better me, the more determined me, the fucking amazing me, is characterized by the Phoenix.  From the ashes of a discordant past, from the ashes of a multitude of poor decisions,  I am rising every fucking day.

I’m learning to deal with my mental illness with safe holistic methods instead of feeding the heartless behemoth that is the pharmaceutical industry.  I’m dealing with my weight gain in a rational and nominal fashion.  I am finally able to hear my own voice in my head and know what I want.

That is why I am Rojo, On Thin Ice.  In it to win it, dying by the minute.


2 thoughts on “What’s in a Rojo?

  1. Pingback: Why QuietMimic | A Quiet Mimic

  2. Pingback: You Overcome and Become | Rojo

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