The Stones-Part One

She was a sweet girl. The kind that would love anyone not even worthy. She was loving at some point, but in a dangerous manner. Which resulted in her being preyed upon in her younger years by some of the worst of vultures. An easy target once with her lack of understanding of the world; but now thats changed.

The world has become painfully real. She observes behavior for what it is. That is what is killing her inside now and she knows it. So many vultures in the world, that she aches for a rest. Moments where she could just close her eyes and catch up to the present, by facing a brutal past. She never felt like she had rest. And one night, her need for rest came, but in the strangest of forms.

“Come here.” A voice whispered.

But there was no one there at first. She kept ignoring these voices for months. Thought it was just her depression going through a cycle. Perhaps worsening then later improving. Until he appeared one terrifying day. A man without a face and bag of stones. He left her two stones with eyes painted upon them. She screamed, like any normal person would have.

“Go away! Go away!”

Her mother rushes towards her, shocked at what she is witnessing. Her daughter, cowered in the corner, as if death was upon her.

“Do you see it? That thing with the bag of stones? Do you..?!”

“There’s nothing here. It’s alright… it’s.. hunny!” She calls the father.

“Yes?! What is..”

“Call 911, grab my jacket…our daughter is in trouble! Quickly!”

“But mom, I don’t want to go anywhere. What are they going to do to me?”

“I will be right there with you. Nothing is going to happen to you. We just need to figure out what is going on hunny.”

The ambulance is flying to the hospital as if she has just been in an accident. Her mother is more nervous than she. The empty face man is staring at her in the corner of the ambulance. Just staring, freaking her out silently. She’s afraid to tell her mother how long they have had this secret staring contest. Sometimes she would wake up to him levitating above her.

She knows it must be scary for people who can’t see what she sees. It feels like she is nothing but a burden, with a broken mind. That her alive inside too.

“Almost there hunny. Hang tight.”

“He’s sitting there. He’s calm now.”

“Okay. Good.” Her mom responds, realizing her daughter might have a long term relationship with this thing.

Of course they order scans of her brain, to rule out any possible tumors or other abnormalities. It all comes back negative. The faceless man still finds corners to just sit and stare at her in the meantime. Smiling, still carrying his creepy stones.

Is he admiring me? She thinks. Does he hate me and want me to torture me? I’m so confused. Is this some kind of symbolic breakdown? Is he all the messed up people I have loved? What is he to me? 

All these IV’s are being started again admidst this chaotic mess inside her head. Everytime she is poked with a needle, the faceless man smiles. He seems to enjoy watching her suffer.

What a sick thing?!  She thinks.

Her mother and everyone in the room is looking upon her as if she is some kind of experiment gone wrong. It only adds to the stress, but she doesn’t blame them. This is like living in an alternate reality, only certain people have experienced. She doesn’t even think the devil deserves it, as she watches her tears fall, and the faceless man grin some more.

 

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Miss Revived Part 5

“Well we’re done with the park and it’s getting late. What now? Should we find a random pub? Have a couple for old times sake? You really haven’t had a couple in peace. Our first excursion wasn’t the best, thanks to your old friend. Heh.” Cheryl said with a concerned voice.

They enter a local pub around the corner. Mostly full of middle aged workers, having one after a long day. It felt out of place but in a good way to Suz. She wanted to challenge her overwhelming fear of uncomfortable situations.

“You look like you need to talk, so shoot!”

“Truthfully Cheryl, I don’t think people understand me right now. I felt like I was under a microscope for years now by someone. I didn’t leave the house. You know why. You know my situation after situation the past few years was like. Like an A&E crime show episode. Except I statistically should be dead. I’m like the survivor who shouldn’t exist. There aren’t many of us to this degree. I don’t expect people to not think I am crazy. I act like an agoraphobic, bipolar,  empty vessel right now.” Suz admits with shame in her voice.

“But you are aware and awake somehow. You are fighting internally for your own identity back. Maybe I know more about it than you think, thanks to my mother. I’m sure just like she did, you still hear his voice and everything he said to demean you over and over. Like a drunk at a jukebox, playing the same song over and over. Except, it’s in your head and no one even hears it or knows. And if you told them, you’d be labeled schizo by ignorant people who aren’t psychiatrists. I know. It’s a common issue after extremely controlling relationships actually.”

“It feels like someone beat words into my head to the point where I could only think about myself in the manipulated way they wanted me to. All for control. All because of either fear or envy. Why not just love? Why is love not good enough for some people Cheryl?”

“Suz, I don’t know. But I do know it’s something inside of themselves that desires more. The ego drives a lot of beings in this world. That’s why it seems so dark. I feel humanity has to reconnect with certain things to salvage their empathy for not just one another but this physical planet and everything upon it. You bring that kind of light to this world. Even when you feel dark. That’s intense for those who are halfway there from your kind of transcendence.”

“You outdid your last compliment. I need to hang around you more. I’m really not used to this at all. Being complemented, being able to socialize, get into the car without the feeling of wrongdoing. I wish I could embrace it all better and not seem unappreciative. But I’ve forgotten what it feels like to receive real help and love. I want to remember right now, but I know time is the only thing that can help.”

“Indeed it is. You have to reconnect with yourself. Stop worrying about everyone else. You’ve done that enough to lift others up, but what have you done for yourself Suz? I say you draw a bath when you get home. Watch something you like for a change. Do something for yourself. One day at a time.”

“Sounds good to me. I don’t remember the last time I did anything for myself. You’re right but I still feel selfish.”

“Rid of the shame. Your heart will beat better without it. And go watch some Gabor Mate. Find anything or any voice that contradicts his annoying, looming one inside your head. Think of it like reprogramming. I’ll see you tomorrow or the next day. Soon. Take care of yourself tonight, Suz.”

“I will.”

That night Suz ran a bath, polished her nails, watched all the things people around her didn’t show interest in. She was self indulgent. Noticing every scar upon her body, remembering what happened while washing it away.

How could I have let this body suffer so much?! All those who came before me to bring me to this  moment of time. I owe myself and them more. She thought.

 

 

 

Miss Magic Part IV

Olivia grabs her shoes, all excited. Composed of all the energy of a titan until she runs into the somewhat nosy neighbor. She knows this will become a draining experience within two minutes but she feels guilty if she doesn’t endure it. The woman has no human interaction for day and is definitely a people person.

“What are you up to today? You look nice.” She says as if trying to be
invited.

“Oh. Just a Birthday party for a friend.” Olivia says feeling guilty
about lying.

“That should be nice. I hope you have a good time.”

“Thanks. Hope you have a nice day.” Olivia says quickly and nervously as
she is trying to calmly move away from the conversation.

She never understood what her neighbor does all day besides occasionally blast Christian rock music. No television is ever on, and no noise is really made. It is as if she doesn’t move all day. The thought concerned her really. Perhaps it is depression? She thought. She felt badly for lying to her and not inviting her but Olivia had waited so long for a real friend and didn’t want her to be scared off. She knows how skiddish she can be herself, and since Jackie seemed similar, she knew it could be risky. She was tired of taking a risk every time in her life for other people. But being selfish felt bad at first.

They met at Jackie’s favorite coffee shop. She drives miles to get there just for a Colombian coffee. Olivia finds this internally insane. She attempts to explain Jackie can buy Colombian coffee at the grocery tore, but Jackie swears it is nothing like the one she is currently drinking. She moves on from trying to save her money, suspecting Jackie might be not concerned with money at the moment. Realistically Olivia knows she doesn’t know her background yet, for all she knows Jackie could be a trust fund kid or one step away from living in the gutter with her Colombian coffee. Either way, Olivia is a bit concerned she might blow through her money buying dumb things, end up like the rest of us poverty stricken fools. Olivia had seen even the wealthiest of people fall because of bad behaviors. Anything is possible.

“So what’s the plan today?” Jackie asks.

“I don’t ever make plans anymore. Avoids the disappointments.”

“True. But how could anything we do together end up in disappointment? Haha!                We seem to entertain ourselves pretty well alone. Let alone around people
who are one in the same.” Jackie says with great enthusiasm.

“You’re right.” Olivia admits.

“Let’s go drive around until we find something! I know it sounds weird but I
have GPS so it’ll work out.”

Jackie had this reassuring nature Olivia needed at the moment. She needed someone who wasn’t afraid of life.  Wasn’t afraid to get in the car and get lost once in awhile with the right person. She felt sort of honored to be in her presence. As if she was a kinda of magical blissful fairy, showering her with fairy dust, trying to make her have fun. Deep down Olivia was stressed about money though. Based upon Jackie’s car she started thinking Jackie did not have the same problems as she did. Perhaps, she couldn’t relate to her struggles, but for some odd reason they clicked on the same wavelength regardless. They drove around until Olivia found a water park & adventure center. Of course, the billboard stood out and even though it was quite a drive, Jackie didn’t seem to care about the gas money involved. When Olivia tried to pull out cash at the gas station, she refused it.

“I just want a real friend Olivia. If you do me wrong in the end, it will
suck for you, not me! Ha ha!” Jackie said in a jokingly but serious
matter.

“Oh I know! I am not used to this treatment, my dear! I feel guilty even
accepting it. Please take something from me.”

“No. I don’t need it right now in my life. If I do in the future, I’ll
know you will have my back, my dear.” She said with the sweetest
demeanor.

“Thank you. It has been so long since I went anywhere like this place. In
fact, I don’t think I have ever been to a place quite like this in my
whole life.” Olivia said excitingly.

“I can tell. You are hiding your giddiness.”

While Olivia used the restroom for a moment, Jackie went to the ticket booth and bought both tickets to everything in the park. Even with the speedy “cut in line” access. Olivia was quite moved by this gesture, tears swelled up in her eyes, almost pouring down her cheeks but she held them back, back into her eyes out of embarrassment.

“Don’t you worry, my friend. Don’t feel bad. Let’s go have fun now. Let’s
enjoy everything we can right now.” Jackie said while she rubbed her
shoulder as if she was a child.

“Thank you Jackie. You don’t know what it means to me.”

“Oh I know, my dear. I’ve waited for a friend like you for too long.”

“Me too.”

They spend their day in inner-tubes like children. Flying down water slides at high speeds. Fitting in with children but not caring about the judgments of others. Having so much fun, nothing else mattered to them. Then onto the ziplines. They bought hats like Indiana Jones had laughing at they flew done the lines side by side, as they flew off. Not caring about materialistic loss. Just happy in the moment with each other. It was the first time in a long time, they were both genuinely happy around another human being. They both knew these moments would never be forgotten and could not wait to go on another adventure.

Miss Magic

She always loved watching magicians on the television. It made life more interesting thinking about how different the world would be if everyone had magical powers. Her imagination would run wild with the possibilities. Then finally, her mother bought her a cheap magic kit for her Birthday. Nothing special. Just some some of wand, cards, and a few things she had no idea what were for exactly.

It was weeks before it happened. She was alone for a moment. Mom was outside gardening, as she played with her magic kit. She knew how to rhyme anything. Kids were quite jealous at school, watching her compose long stories with ten times their vocabulary. Something about language enticed her as a child. Having spent much of her life, shy and in thoughts, she essentially became so bored talking internally to herself, her vocabulary needed to be brushed up upon. It was almost as if it was not a choice. Isolation pushed reading and philosophical thoughts, causing her to need more and more words for expression. It came naturally, like a spring off a mountain. Nothing else in the world really did.

And then it finally happened. With a perfectly rhymed magical chant she changed a card from a two to an Ace. At first, she thought she was crazy. Perhaps delusional or hallucinating. But she laid all the cards out to discover the two she original had was missing and there was now an extra ace. Still thinking she might be crazy, she yelled to her mom as she came inside.

“Mom! Can you tell me if you see an extra ace in this deck and no two? I think this deck may be messed up.”

“It appears that way to me too. That’s odd. Well, I have to make lunch sweetie, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

She tries to act normal as her mother turns away. She shuts the door a bit more, chants a similar chant and looks again. The card didn’t change this time. It’s frustrating but she knows something is perhaps different about this magic set or her or the world. It’s all overwhelming at first, but becomes like a great mystery she has to solve. She imagines being like Harriet the Spy, and becomes overjoyed with the endeavor. She spends the night secretly playing with the magic kit, while everyone else sleeps soundly in their ignorance, unknowing the great discovery she just unveiled.

School the next day was awful. No sleep and her mind was constantly focused upon getting back to the magic kit. With obsessive compulsive thoughts, her mind continued to indulge in what most thought was the imaginary. She could sense others would not understand this discovery, causing her to isolate even more than in previous situations.

Do you think they notice I am acting differently? She thought.

She was already quite eccentric so I guess she could blame it on even more of a transcendence into individuality. Kind of makes sense. Minds that think differently, tend to think differently about isolation than most. Tend to think of it as necessary, rather than sad.

As she opened the door, she couldn’t contain her enthusiasm that the magic kit was only ten feet away now. After an hour, it happens again. The card change. With each hour passing by, she keeps proving her own lack of insanity. She leaves for dinner, does some homework afterwards, and then is secretly back to the kit.

The years go by, she slowly sets the kit down more and more. The real world lures her in once again, and she loses interest in magic. She starts becoming fearful of the forces behind the changes, questioning their motives, and then eventually questioning her own sanity as well. But once again, she always lays out the deck and it is never right. She sees the extra cards and missing cards but cannot make sense out of it.

 Is this all I can do? Change some cards with my mind or something? This is all? What the heck am I going to use this for?

 

 

 

Bring Them Alive

I have to bring them alive and out of my head…

Or they will never truly be alive

And could end up dead..

A tragic waste, someone should have read…

Stored all inside my defiant head…

 

And I’m losing sleep as the words pull me out of bed…

waking me from my dreams to live in reality instead…

Oh I have to be alive and out of my head…

Oh why, she first cried, wanting to slumber instead…

Like a forgotten fragment time had led…

to a narrow path in the woods

instead of what Frost had said….

And now she still sits peacefully at the dead end..

The stillness comforts her, as she tries to mend….

Her feet from all the pathways she tried to bend…

Just to find something, she had in her head…

Just to find a way she could have led…

herself away from this place…

And into what she thought was reality instead…

But turns out to be a figment of her imagination

And in time she finds the soul is just intertwined…

Particles of space and time…

 

And she tried to climb the ladder,

blinded by the thought of it all being gone

Instead of just trying to remain strong

Holding herself up, while trying not to pull anyone else along…

in her already weighted down mind….

 

 

Oh, I have to bring them alive and out of my head…

Or they will never truly be alive

And could end up dead..

A beautiful waste that should have been read

A beautiful song, that should have been played..

Outside of my head.

 

 

The Swagger of Ten Thousand Men

He came along in an instant

He had the swagger of ten thousand men,

but he was really a freight train

ready to plow over anyone he couldn’t command….

He said he bought you flowers,

when really it was months ago

and now their bent somewhere in  a garbage dump

and don’t even matter to you anymore…

 

Cuz’ all the flowers in the world

couldn’t bring back the potential good days…

all the flowers in the world..

couldn’t have freed me from the maze…

you created inside my mind…

 

He came alone in an instant…

He had the face an angel could love

but it was really just a painted on mask…

disguising all the hate he burrowed and called love….

He said he’d be the best thing you would ever have….

But as he left, the sun rose up in the clouds…

And you could sleep peacefully for hours….

 

Cuz’ all the sleepless nights

Can’t bring back sleeping throughout the day…

all the sleepless nights

Couldn’t have freed you from being drained…

by his somber presence…

Felt miles away..

So somber, even the doves flew away…

 

 

 

 

Michael Moore’s Misplaced Fear & the Inauguration March

He’s been around for years now. Always there to cover the latest crisis, always having an opinion full of passion, but is that always a good thing? He is quite the storyteller and pubic speaker, but is that all that matters? It shouldn’t be.

Michael Moore swoops in when fear is high in the public sphere, when people are impressionable, and points the finger at what he believes is the culprit of whatever crisis is happening. Some claim he offers great insight and analysis, but the more I observe this man, the more I see he is fueled by emotions and not logic. To truly be analytical, one must actually be able to think logically and without so much “passion” or emotion.

Those who watch him, becoming convinced of everything he says, need to ask themselves why he has this power over them. Those who follow him, think of him as a great filmmaker, writer, activist, and everything which should embody a journalist. However, he seems to only truly let’s say “activate” when a crisis is underway in the liberal or independent parties. Which has been, for quite some time now, the majority, and technically still is since Trump did win by electoral votes. But rural areas participated more this time in the polls, swinging the tide in the other direction. And what people like Michael Moore do not really dig into, is gaining an insightful analysis of why this happened. He fails to take into account the rural perspective. His influence is fueling the misinformed into a deeper pattern of misunderstandings between rural and urban citizens. It is not just a disconnection between the media and independent journalism. It goes beyond his intellect, research, experiences, and capabilities to comprehend. Take, for instance this quote below and how he offers no further insights beyond it.

Moore said, “the reason it works — to get people to hate the press that is standing there is because the press has not done the job the people expect it to do.” Although his statement is true, he seems to ignore other factors which contributed to the Donald Trump victory. This truly shows how focused he is upon finding a single root cause in order to make sense to the masses who supported Bernie, Hillary, or didn’t vote at all. He goes on to urge those to join a March on the day of the Inauguration for “women’s rights.” This will provoke all those who relate to a socialist, communist, liberal influenced agenda to feel as if they are fighting for a cause.  When in fact, they are fighting against their own people, preaching forgiveness, unity, and equal rights on streets where we have western culture already accepted.

The real threat to women’s rights lies in Europe, where some women now wear chastity belts just to take a run. And women are not just the victims, either. Men and little boys are also abused by those who believe in ideologies that do not recognize equal rights, carrying on a culture that has brought upon war and destruction for years. If twenty percent of migrants are women and children, then why must western civilizations accept men who carry an agenda unlike western civilizations? Why accept those who chose not to assimilate, provide for their children, and become productive citizens? It only hurts the working class, poor, disabled, children, mentally ill, and those who actually need a helping hand and are willing to accept western culture as a part of American/European culture.

Those who attend the march on the day of President Donald Trump’s inauguration, I want you to ask yourself why you are there? I want you to ask yourself why you shouldn’t be doing more research on what is happening to Western culture in Europe? I want you to ask yourself why you are fighting your own elected president, rather than supporting his efforts for peaceful discussions in international affairs, nationalism, economic growth, and occupational growth? Would you really like World War III instead in a day and age where we cannot even provide for our own citizens and Veterans? It is time to implement the ideologies we say Western culture and America actually stands for. There are no boarders without walls or some surveillance in the world. There is no western influenced country that does not have laws and consequences. There is no western influenced country that has not had to fight against ideologies which threaten the rights of women and children. There will always be a battle but unity will only happen of common ground can be found among st those countries with the most logic, reason, and civilized of behaviors.

Let our country not fall on false liberal “leaders” and good speakers like Michael Moore, who threaten the very strength of our country with fear of its own citizens. Fear that those who voted for Donald Trump are perhaps racist, homophobic, misogynistic, and/or misinformed citizens. Fear is distracting, unproductive, useless, depressing, and is a great source of fuel for those who threaten democracy. What is done is done. The voting process spoke and we must rebuild our country, unified, and willing to be open minded when it comes to international affairs. Our production in our own country has decreased tremendously, the Middle class has become the lower middle class, and our out of date policies no longer work with the current situation and market. We have had some of the most brilliant minds on this country appointed by Donald Trump. Let them lead, rather than follow. Listen, rather than speak. Trust, rather than doubt. Don’t let fear of the wrong things dictate this country.