KENNY
September 9th 2009 01:00
KENNY
By – the Old Man – 9th September 2009.
Kenny was a Scottish lad who though he came from a nice enough home in the mid west of Scotland with brothers and sisters and both mum and dad, still happily married, he could not stay on the straight and narrow. As he grew up his tendency toward the brutal and the hard life was strewn with much sadness of heart and guilt of conscience. He took to the boose early in life as a means of being sociable and of making friends, but it soon became a must have demand in him, much like that of a mum in pregnancy who cannot help herself in that well known and profound pregnant state come to have those in built demands for cravings of every kind of foods and comforts and likes and at all odd times of the day and night; and as many a mother can attest to, she became very sensitive to any and all things around her. Kenny’s inner demands in a similar way, always lay dormant till he had that first drink. And when that first bit of alcohol passed by his lips his inner dormant condition was awakened again, and it did not cease with the first drink. It stayed awake till he passed out from excessive drinking, and then his body suffered from that excessive amount, and it took some times a week and some times a month to get over that well known unavoidable spree.
He was a tall man for a Scot, short black hair and deep blue eyes with an easy smile and friendly approach, but slim and wiry as well, and he had developed a liking for fighting and for hard work, too, with which he was quite famous for, and eventually by the time he was eighteen he had to leave his home land for better places. So he moved to Australia; and as usual all went well for a while and he secured good jobs over the years which payed him well, and the respect others had for him, grew, then came that day time when his some what uncontrollable personality took over once more and again he began getting in to trouble and then he would have that first drink. His life was pitted with romance and good works as well as those more damaging times, and those drinking sprees too. As with most people of his caliber he was thought well of and in the end pitied, for the sad hopeless and helpless person he was seen and known to be.
Soon he left off work and went to street fighting full time and made his living that way, which is the sad end of most of the men and women like him. And then it became a necessity to have those drinks for the brutal life he was living and could not stop himself from having. Hating himself for whom he had become, he went in search of those who might be able to understand him and perhaps help him, and even though he had tried every known human agency and treatment, he could not stop the downward progression of his life and the deterioration of his personality and manners and moral integrity.
I met up with him in the last fifteen years of his life through friends of mine, and he said that he had tried every thing from God to psychiatry to Alcoholics Anonymous, and nothing seemed to help; and although I have serious evidence that Alcoholics Anonymous works for the majority of Alcoholic men and women and kids, who end up there, nothing seemed to help such a sad case as Kenny. We became good friends under such conditions and many times he wanted to fight with me, and I stood my ground and showed him the physical and mental state he was in at that time; I never flinched and stood firmly in front of him as his friend. In time he admitted to me in private the very sordid details of his life from when he was ten onwards, and it was horrific, as far as what he had done to others is concerned, and of the hatred he had for himself and God.
I had medium to high hopes that maybe, maybe this time, with my help and that of his friends in A.A. that he would be able to over come his malady, as did his friends in A.A. and for a while all went well, but again, his alcoholic personality sent him down that well hewn path to another drink and again and again hospital trips and again back out on another drink.
I moved from Melbourne about one and half years ago now, and we kept in touch sporadically, and his friends would call me and let me know his latest where about’s and condition, as often as they knew it; but sadly as of a few weeks ago he died, in his flat with a total body shut down and his carer, found him a few days later. I was told about it last night, by a friend of his and mine, and my heart sank, and then to tears, I wept. No way could I have helped him more than I could have and still it was not good enough. His was that one percent that could not get honest with them selves nor could they hand them selves over to God completely. Even though he had told me every sordid detail of his past; and as often as he tried to live by God’s normal standards that we all have to live by, I knew it for what it was; He was telling me all of his stuff for shock value to see if I would cast him aside and punish him in even worse ways; he was being his own martyr, as a just reward for all of his sordid damaged filled past. He was not really sincere, neither did he come to see nor understand that such self disclosure under such conditions with me (or with a minister of God’s Church or with a closed mouth friend, or with another Christian like myself), has to be in the full recognition that God is the sovereign Lord and God of all creation, and could free him from such a bad past and give him a far better one with much contentment; sadly, such was the hardness of his heart toward God and fear of the unknown of what might happen if God did free him from his old past and bring him to repentance in the name of Jesus Christ; he was unable to allow himself in himself to want to turn to God to that necessary state of readiness and humbleness that necessitates God’s will to work in him from then onwards.
I will miss him dearly, as a friend and as a helpless and hopeless man. Many times I had wanted to set up a refuge for such hard cases, where by they could stay there for as long as they wanted and work for their keep and helped to keep away from the boose in any dimensions, and even though that could work for thirty plus years, and longer in some cases, I know that in the end that he would (as would those others of his ilk), eventually pick up that last and fatal drink and be dead soon there after. I will miss him dearly, as a friend and as a hopeless and helpless man.
You would have liked him too, for he was easy to like. His smile was often genuine, and his attempts often sincere. I will miss him dearly, as a friend and as a hopeless and helpless man. I am not able to pray to God for him any longer, but I do for his family and friends, for he is passed even that last chance. He is now dead and in the time we all have left before the second coming of the Lord Jesus Christ to raise up and judge the quick and the dead, he will spend his eternal existence (like so many others), in hell and damnation.
Do you have to be an alkie to end up in the same end as he, No, of course not; all you need to be is a human being, who has hardened his self and or her self enough from the womb to the tomb, turning to all and every kind of false religion and conduct, to end up in the exact same place as my friend Kenny (hardness of heart and dead and buried awaiting that final resurrection and just and righteous judgement).
Good bye Kenny, Sincerely, The Old Man.
By – the Old Man – 9th September 2009.
Kenny was a Scottish lad who though he came from a nice enough home in the mid west of Scotland with brothers and sisters and both mum and dad, still happily married, he could not stay on the straight and narrow. As he grew up his tendency toward the brutal and the hard life was strewn with much sadness of heart and guilt of conscience. He took to the boose early in life as a means of being sociable and of making friends, but it soon became a must have demand in him, much like that of a mum in pregnancy who cannot help herself in that well known and profound pregnant state come to have those in built demands for cravings of every kind of foods and comforts and likes and at all odd times of the day and night; and as many a mother can attest to, she became very sensitive to any and all things around her. Kenny’s inner demands in a similar way, always lay dormant till he had that first drink. And when that first bit of alcohol passed by his lips his inner dormant condition was awakened again, and it did not cease with the first drink. It stayed awake till he passed out from excessive drinking, and then his body suffered from that excessive amount, and it took some times a week and some times a month to get over that well known unavoidable spree.
He was a tall man for a Scot, short black hair and deep blue eyes with an easy smile and friendly approach, but slim and wiry as well, and he had developed a liking for fighting and for hard work, too, with which he was quite famous for, and eventually by the time he was eighteen he had to leave his home land for better places. So he moved to Australia; and as usual all went well for a while and he secured good jobs over the years which payed him well, and the respect others had for him, grew, then came that day time when his some what uncontrollable personality took over once more and again he began getting in to trouble and then he would have that first drink. His life was pitted with romance and good works as well as those more damaging times, and those drinking sprees too. As with most people of his caliber he was thought well of and in the end pitied, for the sad hopeless and helpless person he was seen and known to be.
Soon he left off work and went to street fighting full time and made his living that way, which is the sad end of most of the men and women like him. And then it became a necessity to have those drinks for the brutal life he was living and could not stop himself from having. Hating himself for whom he had become, he went in search of those who might be able to understand him and perhaps help him, and even though he had tried every known human agency and treatment, he could not stop the downward progression of his life and the deterioration of his personality and manners and moral integrity.
I met up with him in the last fifteen years of his life through friends of mine, and he said that he had tried every thing from God to psychiatry to Alcoholics Anonymous, and nothing seemed to help; and although I have serious evidence that Alcoholics Anonymous works for the majority of Alcoholic men and women and kids, who end up there, nothing seemed to help such a sad case as Kenny. We became good friends under such conditions and many times he wanted to fight with me, and I stood my ground and showed him the physical and mental state he was in at that time; I never flinched and stood firmly in front of him as his friend. In time he admitted to me in private the very sordid details of his life from when he was ten onwards, and it was horrific, as far as what he had done to others is concerned, and of the hatred he had for himself and God.
I had medium to high hopes that maybe, maybe this time, with my help and that of his friends in A.A. that he would be able to over come his malady, as did his friends in A.A. and for a while all went well, but again, his alcoholic personality sent him down that well hewn path to another drink and again and again hospital trips and again back out on another drink.
I moved from Melbourne about one and half years ago now, and we kept in touch sporadically, and his friends would call me and let me know his latest where about’s and condition, as often as they knew it; but sadly as of a few weeks ago he died, in his flat with a total body shut down and his carer, found him a few days later. I was told about it last night, by a friend of his and mine, and my heart sank, and then to tears, I wept. No way could I have helped him more than I could have and still it was not good enough. His was that one percent that could not get honest with them selves nor could they hand them selves over to God completely. Even though he had told me every sordid detail of his past; and as often as he tried to live by God’s normal standards that we all have to live by, I knew it for what it was; He was telling me all of his stuff for shock value to see if I would cast him aside and punish him in even worse ways; he was being his own martyr, as a just reward for all of his sordid damaged filled past. He was not really sincere, neither did he come to see nor understand that such self disclosure under such conditions with me (or with a minister of God’s Church or with a closed mouth friend, or with another Christian like myself), has to be in the full recognition that God is the sovereign Lord and God of all creation, and could free him from such a bad past and give him a far better one with much contentment; sadly, such was the hardness of his heart toward God and fear of the unknown of what might happen if God did free him from his old past and bring him to repentance in the name of Jesus Christ; he was unable to allow himself in himself to want to turn to God to that necessary state of readiness and humbleness that necessitates God’s will to work in him from then onwards.
I will miss him dearly, as a friend and as a helpless and hopeless man. Many times I had wanted to set up a refuge for such hard cases, where by they could stay there for as long as they wanted and work for their keep and helped to keep away from the boose in any dimensions, and even though that could work for thirty plus years, and longer in some cases, I know that in the end that he would (as would those others of his ilk), eventually pick up that last and fatal drink and be dead soon there after. I will miss him dearly, as a friend and as a hopeless and helpless man.
You would have liked him too, for he was easy to like. His smile was often genuine, and his attempts often sincere. I will miss him dearly, as a friend and as a hopeless and helpless man. I am not able to pray to God for him any longer, but I do for his family and friends, for he is passed even that last chance. He is now dead and in the time we all have left before the second coming of the Lord Jesus Christ to raise up and judge the quick and the dead, he will spend his eternal existence (like so many others), in hell and damnation.
Do you have to be an alkie to end up in the same end as he, No, of course not; all you need to be is a human being, who has hardened his self and or her self enough from the womb to the tomb, turning to all and every kind of false religion and conduct, to end up in the exact same place as my friend Kenny (hardness of heart and dead and buried awaiting that final resurrection and just and righteous judgement).
Good bye Kenny, Sincerely, The Old Man.
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