Well guys, it's your old pal Dandy again.
I wasn't all that big in the community as I could have been once upon a time, small nation, little effect this way and that. All around just kinda there in the heat of it all. I remember some war going on at the time, got nuked, shared some laughs, talked some sense, yadda yadda.
To those that do remember, well, I suppose I owe an explanation to. I left allot of roles I was given and well, doesn't seem right to just appear without some sort of token of understanding. So, here we go.
A while ago, when I was still part of this place, I rather enjoyed the company. I took on jobs, helped the war effort, was slinging some tech around, posted in non-sense topics. However, a mixture of depression, PTSD, and an existential crisis, I found myself...lacking.
Fast forward a few weeks in time, and I lost my grandfather. The man who pretty much raised me. Taught me how to shoot, let me drink my first beer, would stay up with me round the fire pit when I couldn't sleep for various reasons. Like that, poof, gone, donezo, kicked the bucket, bought the farm, and any other death metaphor. I became, for a of better words and quoting my younger brother "suicidal as fuck". I was already struggling with myself, meds the VA gave me were so much pissing in the wind, and it just felt like one of the last lights in the cosmic abyss that was my mind had gone out.
I was in poor shape when we went to the funeral, and all but gone when we went to the will reading. These times are always fun, everyone fighting about who thinks they deserve what, accusations, slandering, hell my aunt accused my mother of attempted murder on her and my grandfather and tried to tell the lawyer that should be why she got everything.
Well, didn't quite go as anyone wanted. He donated most of his things to various organizations, his church, various friends, a chunk went to my family, mostly his cars and such. However, what pretty much branded me a traitor to all but my mother was that he left the largest chunk of his liquid assets (currency), to me. After the government took their share, I was left with about 200 grand, or 200,000 for the sake of the layman.
So, there I sat, in my own crumbling head space when pretty much my entire family looked at me like I had just pissed in their cornflakes. Like I personally has just insulted them, kicked their dog, burned down their house, took the ashes and snorted them off some Russian mail order brides left ass cheek all while getting a swastika tattooed on my forehead. Yea, fun times.
About a day or so after that, after I signed some papers, got documentation of inheritance taxes, over saw the transfer of assets, and got it all notarized...well then the calls started coming in. Nearly every family member, friend, person I used to know in high school, charities, all of them and more started messaging me, calling, coming to my front door. They all wanted something, help with this, a loan for that, investment in this idea or business. Calling in all sorts of favors, including someone I knew from high school who wanted help buying this old car who decided to bring up "That one time he loaned me five bucks". Everyone's good will dries up rather fast when they think you can get a pay out for it.
I took my time to mourn, locked myself away and told the world I wasn't home. Mostly sleep, little eating, TV only on so that I had some sort of noise because the silence became too loud. All of it just holding the last letter my grandfather wrote me that he hide away in a safety deposit box for when he passed. he wrote it when I was 12, and I guess he thought that even though the letter was old it would help me. Told me how proud he was, that the great things I would do would set the world on fire, and to remember that he would be there with me every step of the way.
I told myself he was a liar, that he knew he was going to leave before I got there, that it was all some sick joke years in the making. I was an idiot in mourning, I didn't think right, and hated myself for thinking that way. He was my grandfather after all, even with his last gift he still wanted to make sure I would succeed.
When I got my head on straight, I thought about what I would do with it all. We all dream "well if I had the money", what we would do, buy, enjoy. My mother, an accountant and well off in her own right helped me. Set up investments in technology companies, mutual funds, stocks, the whole shebang. Afterwards I just kinda sat there, now that I have this, what do I do with it? I thought about what I would have done with the money if he was still alive, so, I did that.
Packed a bag, and I saw the world. I went and saw closer to 50% of the world's capital cities. Europe, Asia, South Africa, Aussi-land, Island Pacific, I felt like I had to live two lives now. That if I didn't have enough experiences to fill the lives of two grown men, I would feel like I was doing a disservice. I was gone for quite a few months, and have only gotten back relatively recently. With a much lighter wallet, but won't be wanting anytime soon.
Needless to say, here I am, back to IRON and all the insanity that comes with it. Odd how turning on your computer that's been sitting there for a long while can bring back some memories.
Well, that's my story folks. Hope that it t least gives some understanding to my sudden disappearance off the face of the planet.
Good to be back.