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aldo-vallon - June 16, 2018
I have a love hate relationship with hammocks. I love them, they love to throw me on the ground.
I do not think I am overstepping my bounds by saying it is just like being in an abusive relationship. Everybody always asks how a battered woman can go back to the person responsible, but I have never felt the need. I already know because I am in the same position, with a little less at stake. We are all hoping that the next time will be different.
Even during the few times when I have been able to get balanced in a hammock I spend every minute in fear that it is going to buck me off like an angry bull with his balls tied off. Just because I am only a couple inches off the ground does not mean that it doesn’t hurt to fall.
What makes my hammock failures so humiliating are the stories of modern hippies who think they are God’s gift to people. I still do not understand why this is supposed to be such a revolutionary invention. I have slept on terrible beds before that had my ass hanging near the ground. I hardly considered it a good night’s rest.