Yesterday was Fireangel day around a lot of the Malaysian Blogsphere. I suspect it is a lot of FA's friends trying to cheer her up and get her a BF. Anyway, when writing one of my more serious replies to a post at Minishorts site, I fell into one of my depressions. It is a long and confusing thing to explain - but, basically, it's part of the Teflon Suit at work. When I was a lot younger, I wrote a song about the 'Walls' people build (Little did I know, that Pink Floyds Album, 'The Wall' was exactly about the same sort of thing). Actually, the timing wasn't all that bad - 'The Wall' came out in 1978 (or was it 1979), and I wrote my song in 1982. Anyway, I hadn't seen the movie, nor heard the Pink Floyd album, because I was still a student at school, and had no money. Anyway, I was thinking along very similar lines to Roger Waters 'Wall' at the time. I've now changed my thinking a little. What used to be a 'Wall' between people (or 'Shell' according to some), is now what I consider the 'Teflon Suit'. It's more flexible than a wall. Walls are very rigid (unless in a cyclone), and have no room for movement. The 'Teflon Suit' is more complex too. Walls are made of bricks and mortar and are basically Uniform throughout - with each 'Brick' possibly representing a piece of the 'personal barrier' towards other people. The Teflon suit has more flow and is made of thousands of complex threads, which are not all Uniform. Than can be different lengths, go in different directions and even have other bits sewn onto them (like pockets and stuff). They can be taylor made for the wearer and can even make big statements in style. At the end of the day though, Teflon is a major 'Non Stick' substance. It's also used in flak jackets and stuff, so is highly durable and difficult to damage. Wearing one of these is a lot better than hiding behind a wall. Anyway, that explains where the concept comes from. Part of the concept also, is the fact that you often don't think about, nor see each and every thread in the suit. Some things can unravel into your mind at random. A lost memory which you thought was gone, and your mood can change and swing very rapidly. This is what happened while I was writing my reply to Minishorts Article. Without knowing it, my brain cascaded down the one thread, which I thought was being rather sensible. Minishorts was asking guys to make their move on FA, and I was giving (what I think were very logical reasons) as to why it is impossible for me to commit. That's when IT hit me! I've always been good in the 'Relationship' part of a BF/GF relationship. I've always been bad at the 'start' and 'end' parts. While writing the comment, my brain went back to my distant past. This will seem completely off topic to my comment and what I was thinking about. It was 1985, streets of Sydney. Cold winter's night. Probably about midnight, maybe a little before or maybe a little after. Funny thing about 'living' on the streets. You have to have a completely differnet mind set to living in a house or flat. It's a differnet world, and logic often flies out the window. I was wandering around the streets. It wasn't raining, it wasn't windy. Doorways are always a good place to sleep if you can find one where you aren't too exposed. You don't want to be seen by passing police cars or anything. Anyway, I was wandering around, and I went past one of the churches on Broadway, somewhere between the University of Technology (then NSWIT) and Sydney Uni. In the church yard was an old man. A vagrant. A drunkard. He was lying on the other side of the iron fence which was there. He was lying on the grass (what little grass there was) moaning and stuff. I could hear him breathing pretty badly. Anyway, I didn't think much of it at the time. Drunks sleeping around the place is quite normal. Just because he was in the church yard didn't make it any different to him sleeping at a bus stop, or in a doorway. Actually, Railway Square was also a place a lot of the drunks and vagrants used to sleep. Doesn't matter. Well, I was wandering around, as some nights, that's actually the best thing to do. Keep moving and keep yourself warm. Don't stop. Always look like you know where you are going so nobody stops you to find out you don't have a home. I must have gone past the church two or three times. That drunk, snoring or moaning or whatever. Sometime during that night, someone must have found him. Maybe a clergy man, or maybe just another passerby. Anyway, a police car turned up, and an ambulance ... and there he was. The drunk, placed in a black plastic body bag. Sometime, between the last time I'd past him, and when I'd come back, he had been found. I don't know if he'd been alive when he was found and died after, or if he'd died, and then been found. For all I know, someone might have found him and killed him. The fracas of someone killing him might have attracted a passerby who then phoned the police. I really don't know, as I wasn't there at the time. I'm not sure if it really matters either. At the time, I remember I felt a little sad. I can't remember how sad. When the memory came back to me last night however, it made me very sad. It made me so sad, that I literally sank into a depression which stopped me dead. I was almost in tears and I couldn't help but wonder about the incident. Why was it making me so sad now? And this is part of the Teflon Suit. I have no control over this part. Sad memories. Bad memories. Things I thought I was immune to, as I'd lived through them, or lived past them. Things which don't make much sense now, or even then. It's part of the suit which my ex-wife could never understand. I'd just sink and sink and sink into a depression which sometimes has no cause, or the cause does not make sense. It saps me of energy. It saps me of confidence. It saps me of things even my closest friends think cannot be taken from me. I am here, but that's all. I am just here! The substance that makes me, has been drained by the sadness and madness of this world. Though I do not inflict the pain or sadness that is caused onto anyone else, they know it is there. They can't explain it, nor do the understand it. It is the part of the suit, which I've always asked my GF's and friends to just accept. I get annoyed when others try to make me happy, or try to give me sympathy. I get annoyed when they try to explain it or try to use logic to break me out of my depression. Somedays, you just have to accept, that you don't know, and you can't do a thing. And that's how it was with me and that drunk who died. It made me sad that he passed away that night, but what was I to do? Maybe that's why it makes me sad. Maybe I blame myself for not checking to see if he was alright. There are good reasons why you don't check things like that when you are on the street. I won't bother explaining. Too many details. As it stands though, I just didn't know, and I just couldn't do a thing. Now it's passed into the Teflon suit as a thread. Something no one can ever relate to, nor understand in detail. A thread that will disappear into memory until the next tiem I inadvertantly come across it when least expected!