On this day, Fifteen years later: A moment of reflection

I was 26

I was waiting out the "summer" for CSULA to begin and I was keeping myself busy hitting the gym at 2am and crashing at 3 am. Couldn't sleep so I stayed up long enough to get Howard on the east coast feed. It would rewind at 6 am to replay the entire show again, but I loved hearing it live.

So right at the point, it was supposed to "rewind" it happened. I listened in shock and realized that this was a shitty bit. After some time I turned on TV and realized that the first building was hit. I got on the internet and tried to understand what was going on.

Second plane hit. Still listening to Howard. Still watching. Everyone was horrified.

No footage of New Jersey  Muslims cheering. Everyone was in shock. We believed in our president despite of what insane election results stated. We wanted retribution. We were angry. The nation invaded Afganistan.

Then we heard how monstrous Sadam was. How he poisoned his people. How he funded terrorism despite of religious divisions. How he amassed weapons of mass destruction and "yellow cake". How he had tubes that could bomb Isreal. And how he was the pure essence of evil. On every channel. By our President, Secretary of State Powell, Vice President, the entire cabinet. Present presidential candidates were for war. It was the first time I have ever heard from the little Jewish socialist. We would not know what horror was done under the guise of patriotism until 2004. We didn't have an exit plan. It wasn't a Clinton Era humanitarian mission where the US came in to put the work in, and left the rest to the UN. America stayed. American business benefited.

We lost the lives of multiple soldiers and support. Many lives were affected that never set foot on the battlefield. Gays were trying to marry and that was a clincher for the election. Budgets swelled for military and then police. Education suffered and scapegoats were chosen. Patriots wave flags, chase out Dixie Chicks, put yellow ribbons on everything and speak of harsh punishment for sedition speak. Later we would discover the perfect storm of the remnants of the Nixion administration finally given free reign. Torture was fine. They hate us for our freedom. And they tried to kill Georgie's daddy. A new definition of "terrorist' is given as despots run with it and attack under genocidal means to protect the homeland.

We become the bane of the world. Then the laughing stock. Lewis's warning become more then premonition as  "...fascism comes to America, ...wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross."

So I always rethink on this day. We lost our fear of Big Brother only to confess to little snitch. We were swayed by our government by this day and moment to commit atrocities under the guise of the greater good. For a moment the majority of us lock-stepped and got into ranks. Even Carlin pulled back before he realized they were up to the same shit.

So I don't get sentimental. I look at the whole picture and realized that when in times of pain and hurt there will moments when the wrong people will work and try to use you against humanity. They will remind you when you come to your senses that they were doing it for you and your hands are also bloody.

So...yea......this day was the turning point.

You blinded me with some really stupid shit......

Just looked at some "nonchemical" cleaner. Got me curious so I wanted to see what was the cleaning agent that was "chemical free".

Didn't even make it......got stopped by two fucking words.

"Gluten Free"

=-|

Just.......where do I go from here? What......what do I do now? How do I move on from this?

I think I'm done. Please stop the world....... would like to get off.

Just......no fucking words......unless you smart motherfuckers start having more babies, like 12 or 28 then I don't think we have a fucking future.....

*puts head in hands and drop into lap, dying of shame for our species*

Recounting a Lost Bird Song of Poetry and Love in Search of What Once Was

There are moments in my life where I awaken from slumber and the shadows of who I once was quickly retake me if only for a moment. There are prices in which we must all pay on order to survive, many of which are in itself their own penance. For those of us who walk among you with hard earned hollow eye which only hint of horrors past, we can probably find moments within our past where we were someone else, someone who once lived with a lighter heart and less weighted burden. Moments like these haunt us, reminding us of who we once were and what we once have been before reaching a certain crossroads where the toll to continue would not weigh upon us until we had already bargained and paid.

These moments haunt us of our own naivety and even a wide eyed trust among those who we believed walked among us with kind hearts and loving minds. We see those fools we were once and we mock our lack of knowledge as if we could have foreseen any such explosion of madness from others so volatile enough to deceive us to believe we were at fault. If approached we would say we abhor the fool, attempting to distance ourselves from such idiocy. And yet, if allowed respite and a silent moment to hide from the harsh eyes of a cruel world, we would all fall to our knees and embrace longingly and lovingly a version of ourselves torn asunder why a miscalculated action of trust.

This night is one of these as I look up what I was so many years ago, decades ago at a fool who loved poetry, believe that good would vanquish the dark sullen night, and everyone has some redemptive source of good within. Such a Romantic lad, who uttered verse in order to understand rhythm and bounce of words believing that everything can be expressed and that if given enough time he would woo the world with a song of love, a moment of contemplation,  and a ballad of great ones who committed themselves upon Herculean feats. That his will as his carefully chosen words could convey any emotion and thought and would never fail him as long as he had breath within and dreamed of worlds that limits were only that of his own foreseen limitations.

I look upon that boy, so trusting and innocent wondering how he could have survived in such a place. Where his trust among everyone only allowed cruel and conniving to make mark of him. Where those who were made lame by others for whatever reason would take hold of him and also remove from him what they lacked since they could not inspire love. It is easier to mock and ridicule those who attempt to make their place in the world a bit kinder and colorful rather then take such an impossible task of making life better for all. Those who were crippled before cripple, not out of immense cruelty but simply committing a repeat horror to justify their own loss as something that must be. Hollow and cruel spawn others to wallow in self hatred and abandoned hope rather then protect those who have what they too lost within.

Emotional undead tearing away life from those who still hold it dear, increasing their ranks and creating a colder world.

And few of us who survive, even torn apart refuse to partake such acts. We hold dear the belief that such a cycle of hatred and anguish must end within ourselves. We attempt to express our loss with the same talent we had to convey beauty as a honk of pain escapes from each of us than the song of love. A wretched sound that catches us unguarded and within horror as a bird flops downwards with broken wing, still making attempts to return to skys wide and glorious. We fear our deaths, yet we learn that death would be merciful. We are forced to walk if not crawl on grounds unfit for our bodies. We were once creatures of the heavens, marveled at our majesty.

So we, grounded creatures walk among creatures more suited to live on lands not of our own and we either perish from the disadvantage or we evolve into cruel things with sinister means under the guise of survival. We walk among the miserable life of ground, to hunt or flee. To leave deep and heavy tracks or to offer fear to those who would seek us as an easy meal. We find sanctuary in lethal methods and numbing lies to believe we were always suited for such a life. That we were never to soar but to struggle on cold earth.

We survive and create a broken and harsh world among ourselves. We flock to each other to display wounds and sing song of our wretched battles. In our weaker moments, under medicinal vice we break down in weeping woes and lost bird song we all once sang. Such glorious yet dooms songs that once lifted spirits only to remind what cruel the world is to force us to ground. The weaker of us choose their end and those of us suffering from madness become creature to rip those asunder, hating ourselves for being torn once.

We ask you not for your woe nor pity. We can not be reached in any such manner. Yet, if given a small moment to sing our bird song, we shall if only to hear it once more ourselves. At times our song attracts our kind who do whatever available to return us to their flock. They find us and give us what we could only wish for. We can not understand such gifts and we let them go sallow without return. Many leave. Broken ones stay to be among us in our broken states until they to become us or return to the skys in fearful shock. We are abandoned and we see not how we force other to when we secretly cry our songs for love and aid.

I see myself once more and I remember poetry. I remember art and music and lively boisterous joy. I remember a childe which once reveled among close friends and loved ones and not one who forces all away. I see a fool by my standards and a time lost within my grasp. I see innocence unsullied and a heart open to anyone who wishes to share such a gift.

I walked his footsteps. I remembered him for a song bird once more. I reminisced of whole healthy wings strong enough to life my hurt body into skys. I remember song never mocked and  love given freely. I was bird once, not creature of harsh land. I was one who sang to those left below and yearned for their return. I loved freely, openly and shamelessly. I wanted nothing then to sing my song with many and to life the hearts of all.

I say this part of me. I felt my wings whole and strong. I rose up high if only for a moment before landing harshly in denial. I was not who I was then Nor will I ever be. I lived too much to return to such a virgin state. Yet, can I not learn to fly again? To sing a different song? To find meaning in words lost. To write poetry once more. To scream to the heavens and earth that I am once more free from weights and tethers? To be who I was, yet stronger?

Could I heal? Could I love? Could I not find purpose? Could I not use what was given to me to rise up and raise all once more? Would the hurt prevent me once more? Would the fear of those in their own anguish keep me down? Could I not attempt to even if I fear this moment and believe that I will only be torn once more?

I loved poetry. And museums. And art. And film. And running in hand with someone I wanted near in these moments. Warm kisses in cold air. Loving smiles and promises of pleasant nights. Of happy moments that would never end in waking night terrors. Kind moments. Close companions and a celebration of life through art?

Did I abandon it or it me?

And as it once taken me by shock of memory rediscovered, I lost the warm feeling to cold emptiness. To yearn for what is now an echo. I miss that moment.

And yet, I chanced. I walked within beauty in search for what was. I trusted those among me with an abandonment I once was known for. I shared in joy and gave love if only to have it once again echo within a state of loss and sadness. I held on if only to rediscover who I was. I have an echo, yet it may be enough to offer hope.

I once loved poetry.

I once more seek it's song.
I once more hum a song lost.

Morning respite over Coffee and the Sundering of American Life or My take on Clint Eastwood's Pussy Generation

*sitting in kitchen with second cup of coffee listening to a lecture. This is his first time this week having coffee. Since he's running an average of 14 to 17 miles a week now, coffee is a no run day delicacy to be savored and cherished in these silent moments with headphones in ears. Looking out to the yard and street a large truck favored to construction workers wail on it's train like horn at a lowrider speed as it's large bounty of fruit glistens with freshly hoses mist. Blueberries would be lovely later if not for a fridge filled with them. It's difficult finding a decent sushi restaurant or a pho shop, but fresh fruit is never hard to find, often putting to shame the produce often shipped third rate due to geography and likelihood to fall for "organic" labels considering that the majority of people here have raised crops at one point or another in their lives*

...hmmmmm...they want a wall.....*sighs*....they actually want a wall......

*he shakes his head and tries to forget politics and the growing fear among most people here that the nation is actually going to bear down on them like in the 70's, or 30's, or worse. "Illegal" immigration have statistically not only ended in a trickle, but have regressed with families not able to afford their homeland once more and knowing that land is plentiful, they haven't seen their families in decades, and their children and grandchildren have thanked their sacrifice as societies "shit people" and "whipping boys" so that they can be citizens, gain the opportunity of an education, and actually give back to the society that once considered them vermin*

.....Pete Wilson.....Ronald Reagan......Roosevelt *sighs again*

*It's funny how it was the "Mexicans" now as it was the "Italians" then. Or the "Chinese" or the "Japanese" and the "Irish" and even the "Blacks". It's always someone else for the problems that never seem to be solved in centuries. Whipping boys are numerous and easy to find. Any population attempting to exist in a society that does not give them a fair shake out side of letting you live here will always find their place in some newsletter or web site or blog calling for the mongrels to be cast out either by political control or by weapon, all depending who the president is. Patriots become rebels in increments of four or eight years. It's either may way god bless america or it's don't tread on me you other. Nothing changes. Videos are made, people capturing moments of horror that only now the majority of White America is witnessing with a saddening response of either never knowing despite of the amount of history books or simply defending why a twelve year old child playing with a toy gun was deemed worth of immediate execution. People are horrified over a gorilla's death or "assassination" never understanding that young boys are sat down not understanding how sex works but how death may happen with a harsh word, not complying to every opportunity, or simply making the choice of buying something from the 7-11*

......nothing changed. Just more people realize it and are either appalled or even overjoyed......

*life was hard in the 80's. He was always a trusting child. If told police would give you baseball cards then they did that. He had several and the Dodgers were huge to him. In time he would stop believing them heroes as the violence of the streets he lived on increased with the drug war and the romanticized view of the gangbanger. It makes him laugh that word has changed meaning in time considering the horror he's seen and the friends he lost. Drug money, poverty and an easy score lured many to it only to have the majority laying bloodied in the streets, the young in prison, and a legal and political system not realize that opportunity is limited in these areas and the youth needed saving, but were condemned as animals, without family structure, or without morals. Their horrific warlike terror was seen as reasons why you would arm yourselves and that ignorant people are just criminals by nature. Ah, the 80's. Most see it as joyful folly, he sees it as twenty years of justified police killings and a funnel of prison to communities who needed FEMA or someone to realize that poverty kills. It kills, but it also fills coffers. Everyone feared the NWA, but no one realized that segregation and police brutality from Lynwood would fuel Compton's rage. Today what NWA alive are selling beer or overpriced headphones. "Hard niggas" of the 90's now have MBA's and are community leaders who suffered the hell of the day to give a new generation a new day*

.....privileged kids....pussy generation...*sips mug only to realize that it's empty, yet holds it to take in happy scent*.......trigger warnings .......and the fagot generation.....ha......"make my day"....ha ha....

*kids are fucking pussies. It's an easy thing to say. Almost trying to wash it's hands from what is and what responsibility have wroth. Clint Eastwood made his money by shooting niggers and thugs because Merica needed a dirty harry. Charles Bronson murdered rapist, spics, and hippy druggies to make his streets clean with a large manly gun. Arnold stopped smoking weed on camera and stopped chasing pussy to bulk down and say one liners while shooting gangs and Sandinista and commie shit that one day he would be given the chance to ruin California's economy. Bruce Willis stopped trying to play the blues on stage and picked up guns against the russkied and socialists and anyone with a funny accent. Chuck Norris has no testicles, no! Bruce Lee's bitch has only two more fists in his sack and be ejaculates spin kicks. Such a delicate thing, the male ego is and it seems the more "privileged" it is the more women and people of color has to bow to it to make it feel superior. Paula Dean isn't a racist really, all she wanted was niggers to dance in white like in those Shirley Temple movies. And Black people did back then under an age of oppression, lynchings and making any small move lead to death. They tapped danced, sang and smiled on stage. Women swooned at the turn of the century then wanted to vote even if they bleed all over the booths, the uppity bitches. Wet backs wanted a fair pay for picking poison sprayed produced that caused birth defects in their young. Remember Charo? She shook her body to hoochi koochi while Brown children wanted to go to a better school and be prepared for college. The Rat Pack ruled the world even if Sammy could do anything without half of the nation calling him a nigger jew.*

.....I got to be me.....poor Sammy.....

*Mr. Eastwood wants this back. No one complained because they had no voices or they got lynched via mob or police. The faggots were just faggots until Harvey Milk took a stand and was shot. Malcolm called for revolution by any means necessary and was shot. King wanted to follow Gandhi's stance on nonviolence and was killed when he spoke against a war in Vietnam, the commie nigger cheat.....he cheated on his wife you know.....filthy nigger. Black Panthers were killed on spot by police or informants planted information to ensure their imprisonment. Student organization where under surveillance and multiple organizations were torn apart from the inside by those who wore the same color for the bidding of Blue. People to this day believe that crack was devised by the CIA and AIDS was made in labs to decimate the population of those who are unwanted. It's conspiracy at best, but when Ronald Reagan holds a press conference and the question of HIV is brought up laughter is had about the male homosexual disease. Investigations are discovered that police and even higher government used dirty measures to catch "crooks" only to have them overturned, damages paid, and police departments on charges. What's worth when someone is made to live in a wheelchair due to a bust? When they ARE a criminal and the charges were made up and they were placed there with "good meaning" yet a dirty outcome. It's funny even now the ghosts of gangs and militants are used to scare white america. They're going to get you so more guns and in schools and in church and in the bedroom. In my youth, gun violence was a normal thing in school as one guy was shot over gang business and rarely in daylight. Drive by were common and we wore colors that were not "colors". We were called animals and savages in the halls of Congress. Then Columbine happened and more up to Littletown. We never killed our classmates, "only the cost of business" as the lyrics go. Yet this was something we needed to cure, now the epidemic is all over. No I worry that The Jungle and Crenshaw is being gentrified by a generation of white middle class who somehow didn't get the memo of what monsters we are. Children who's nannys played ranchera music and taught them Spanish while cooking and cleaning. The animals raised their children to know what tacos are. To fuel the foodie revolutions of enjoying other culture's food when they were reviled for being different. This new generation of white people are adventurous and friendly to a culture who had warned their children to keep their heads down and "don't cause trouble"*

....Good days.....when are our good days?

*He called his daughter privileged, but not to insult her. To make a point. He told her, if he lined up the generations of their family from her on the end to their great grandparents who rumors fought in the revolution and had that generations "white people" call them a filthy racial something, her great grandparents who had rifles in their hands because of need rather then ego would only look down and be silent. Her grandparents would do the same, but a glint of "uppity" might escape. Me, my generation would take a breath, calculate the threat and choose our words carefully only to be silence by her and her generation pulling out their phone, recording the happening and armed with a flurry of facts and outraged that has made them the "pussy generation". Oh my god, triggers. You should not rape because bad. And you should not shoot people because bad. Your argument should not be won with a bullet because bad. Straight Male privilege is bad because it oppresses blah blah blah....pussy generation, see? Keep your head down, do a little dance, and make that delicate privileged ego safe. Dirty Harry hates your complaining. Chick Norris, a man who afraid of chemtrails think that nonchristians are a threat to all because they exist. Arnold did the most republican thing while fucking California over by fucking the maid! That ugly brown bitch! Not like Shakira...that girl can shake and ass....booty booty everywhere, Bra.....Bruce Willis needs his guns everywhere or else he realizes he has no career without them. Paula Dean is a person of her time and she don't care because someone like the fact that niggers danced in clean white clothes and made Shirley Temple happy. They knew their place. Charles Bronson died in a lucky age where brown people were shot at and not reasoned with. I guess he's the lucky one*

....they want a wall......not better economics.....a wall......

*The time scares him a little. The threat of Alt Right worries him. The people who side with Merica even if some nigger, muslim social commie fagot prostitute who turned tricks for the drugs is in charge and ruining everything. The fact that Skin heads are being met with violence from a generation of leather clad vatos who are not going to let an angry minority end a protest with violence. They will fight back even if they get stabbed and arrested and held while the offending group leaves with bail. The world cheered and said that is what you do to "Nazis". Black people are arming themselves in Black Panther manner and protecting Mosques from Mericans and their guns. Brown people are not to be messed with anymore. The faggots are not, and they realize that Harvey left them with a great example of unification beyond who you take to bed with and to stand against who threatens you, even if it's not a "gay thing'. Unification means protecting those in need rather then each for themselves. So, he's trusted enough for someone to come out to. He's willing to hear someones tale or horror that is filed with rape, racial disharmony and gender trappings even if it looks like he's the "bad guy" in the story. People's voices are expanding and a new generation joins those commie, race traders who sold Merica out into realizing that one's privilege is often the removal of rights to others to masquerade as privilege. Hearing of horrors committed for their benefit only to realize it's not. Poverty is a universal unifying point, yet people are told this group or that group is to blame by those who gain from that lie. Merica has a sad story of it's own, once sung in country music but now often drowned out by patriotism. Everyone is coming together to a new idea of everyone making it, not just few while fewer gain most, but everyone, even the skinhead whose anger may one day wain and cause them to question. We've all been played here. Fear is dying out for some and for others the only means of unity. These are frightening times. That a man who has no allegiance other to himself would be the ALT RIGHT choice, god's choice. The White Race's choice when sadly......it's not. The game is blatant now and with that all the mechanisms are seen for all who dare. Yes, some want a wall and that makes all of us to pull together. Fagots are to blame and it pulls us all together. Religion is used as a weapon and even atheists hold the line for what's right. Women are divided on gender roles, race, and privilege yet in some happy moments unity happens. This is a frightening time and yet it pulls us together.*

.....but will we hold or let go once November arrives.....*sigh*

*He doesn't know and that scares him the most.*

.....they want a wall......

*He takes his mug to the sink and washes it out. Ikea is on today's list and beds must be picked up. He doesn't run today, but the previous nights soreness and ache is still prominent as he shuffles towards the bathroom.*

...I'm getting too old for this.....

Primum non nocere; Non impedire progressum

I've been playing with this thought for a few days now and I'm going to try to get in on the screen even though I'm not sure if I have a point.

I know, that made little sense. I know, that's how my mind works.

Also, I'm going to try an "lighten up" if only for my own good since I think I vented most of the harshest thoughts out. I'm not much to being a downer, but some things need to be said, even if they were gripes or just harsh issues that has come up from therapy. Geesh, if I was able to go back to 2013 me and tell him, he's be seeing someone about this and the depression he'd laugh.

Things are slowly getting better and I'd like to not be a fucking stick in the mud about it. Saying that much, I'll try to exponge a few things I've been chewing on.

Primum non nocere

This is the Latin version of Do No Harm, which is the Hippocratic Oath often quoted from Hippocrates of Kol who is revered as the Father of Western Medicine. It's a good practice considering that medicine was more of an art back then, yet still it holds true for doctors considering that an action, no matter how advantageous could cost the patient their life or simply living. It's the reason that medicine have changed from a guess to a hard researched process backed by the scientific method and constant years of research.

There was a time where I would have been considered an antivaxer of sorts. Cults have ways of making things that you should trust sinister and things that have no merit have all the trust in the world. It wasn't until I've went to University and sat in enough biology and microbiology classes and laboratories to realize that there is truth to lab work and seeing with one's own eyes backed by research and a long line of proof as a foundation. My college work proved to me that vaccines are the acme of medicine in which you can completely prevent any illness by simply exposing an individual to a weakened for of it. I've learned that evolution is true, even though there was a time I didn't believe in dinosaurs and even that we came from apes until realizing how DNA worked, how mutations can be a benefit or hinder to life, and even how some of the old "garbage genes" life has picked up in it's earlier forms cause us harm because it still believes that we are bacterium.

Holy fuck, I never thought of it that way. We're still apes which are just overly modified bacterium.....mind blown.....I need a minute.....

ok....

I've sat in classes where I finally understood how traffic harmed us by creating ozone which is horrible to breathe. I witnessed people in a lab trying to document the genealogy of a fox species that lived near Catalina Island so that they can help it from being endangered. I've been given small mystery samples in test tubes and told that I must plate, grow, run numerous tests, then run its genetic code in order to find out what it was and what strain it is. I've done sever tests on why blood types are important to understand while they theoretically spoke of universal plasma able to be given to all without need for donors. I've witnessed the concept of plasmids while also playing Bioshock and even seen primitive precursors of sex with bacterium sharing RNA via pili like appendages. No orgasm or sexual desire, just trading RNA to ensure that bacterium live.

As much I held disbelief, I had a chance to actually see what science had to offer. So it was very slowly throughout the years I've entertained doubt. Doubt is a good thing. It offers you a moment to stop and question if you do have the situation in check. That perhaps you need to double check your math and it even causes you to stop for a moment to reflect on what it all means from a bigger perspective. Sometimes the separation between logic and fallacy is just a quiet moment to reflect. I had several of these enough to allow me to realize that my cult was wrong. That they didn't have the answers and that what they called answers were horrid. Yet, I somehow still held on to what is and isn't right via my cult. It would take some time to stop and just figure it all out. Basically this year I had a mental spring cleaning to say that it was wrong, I was wrong, now I will do better.

There is no way to "convert someone". You can only offer them doubt. They have to release what they find as folly. Only then can they break free. Not by threat, nor regulation or mockery, but by entertaining doubt. Sometimes your existence is more then enough to cause that. Sometimes the fact that you are is enough to enrage and confuse and cause people to react violently against something they can not comprehend. You don't help their change with opposition, because all such mind frames share this Crusader/Martyr duality where everything IS justified with opposition. Fucktard comes to mind. Also Religitard. IF you ever want someone to abandon their natural process of reflection, challenge them!

There has been several debates that has not only shown people this in process, but they have also reaffirmed their belief in what is not correct. Nye and Ham comes to mind as even though anyone could plainly see that Nye's statement of changing his mind with evidence as earnest it's a stark difference of Ham's stance that even if he is wrong there is nothing he would do to correct it because he will always refuse to change due to his self convinced notions of what is. What ever scapegoat he needs isn't important. I'm not taking a turn on religion, but something more. A point where one refuses to believe what is stated as correct despite of proof stating the contrary because they will not. This is a delusion that as seen from the end of the debate, those who share Ham's admittance of delusion supported him with monetary proof.

Basically they gave him cash because he "stood up to the experts".

No one could ever convince him otherwise yet it does allow us to arrive at a hypothesis of either he doesn't know and simply refuses or he know and still refuses. Morality aside on why he would do this to himself and therefore so many others, one can see it's just incorrect. He's doing harm just by supporting a mistake in one sense or a lie in the other. Forget if he's doing this because his faith in a higher power is great or just that he's doing this because money is worth the trouble. If you are wrong and refuse to double check the math it doesn't matter why you refuse to check it. Your actions have committed an offense and perhaps harm. If I step on your foot, either by accident or on purpose does not dismay that I stepped on your foot. My actions
afterwards will state my intent, but in a simplistic view the damage, if any has been done.

Do No Harm

*deep breath*

.....I've been pondering another saying. I don't know if it means anything, but for the past month I've been thinking about it. My relationships with people and how I connect and even interact. I'm going to say that I don't have the healthiest of relationships at time and yet throughout my time in therapy I was finally able to set up my first boundary. I was able to cut myself off from harm and insult. I was able to back away and cut ties when my self worth has been hurt. I'm going to say that I don't have the most favorable view of myself. I'm going to say it's very skewed and off and that I can not at times comprehend. My time with the Crazy Doc as been trying to grow this part of me that never really existed.

And now having it grow somewhat, not enough to consider myself healthy and yet enough there to feel insult and want it to stop. In my way of attempting to create this boundary I've seen some pretty nasty forms of Gas Lighting. I'll not go into what it is since I won't do it justice. But here's a link and have at you. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaslighting). I'll give you a sec if you need it.

...ok, well while making my first boundary I was barraged with insult ranging from "you're just jealous", "you're holding me back", "anything you ever had has been given to you", to " you're never going to do anything worth while". I held my tongue. I simply repeated their overall response.

"Move. Just move"

 Non Imprdire Progressum

Hinder no progress. I like the concept of being in Latin because it give it some merit as if the English cheapens it or it just may be that I'm compensating. And yet, I realize that the best say to prove a point is to stand out the way. At that moment, after hearing this barrage of insults and blame that for one, I honestly didn't wish them harm. They are an important person in my life, yet their frame of mind is harmful to me. Their behavior is not only an insult towards me, but in truth was a lie. I don't want them to fail or to hinder them and yet their mind is made up and I am the root of the issue.

I never understood triangles of any sort, the most frequent one that comes to mind is romantically as there is an individual who can not make up their mind on who should be the focus of their attention if there needs be a focus. I've been in a few without knowing and in some cases I've always been the "other person". The one who gets tossed out. I'm the other man. So this is always a sore place for me. Once I realize what is going on I usually leave and make it a line. I refuse to be part of anyone's emotional wishy wash. I'm either needed or not. Don't compare me. I'm either someone who is important in your life or I should go. I don't even care if I'm one of many, as long as I am treated as well as I treat you.

So in this spirit I realized that I need to step out of any way anyone believes me standing in. If you tell me that you moved away and you don't want me to follow, I won't. I won't chase you down to the airport. It's stupid. I tell people their worth and I am never on to stand in the way of progress. If you think you need to make your life better without me, go. Am I holding you back? Leave me alone. If you believe I embody the worst of your life allow me to exit, stage right. I shall never stop you once your mind is set. I will offer doubt in what manner I can, but I refuse to be an excuse of any sort. I will not stop you if you tell me to get out of your way. I will not plead or beg.

I will go. Hmmmm.....wonder if this is why people think that they can return. I burn bridges when needed, never on whim. And I will in no way rebuild one burned by you. If you cut off connection I will not reconnect. At this point I realize I don't want an apology, but I realize I'm wrong. I do want one. I do want an apology because it's the last thing people would give me.

Hinder no progress. Let me move out of the say and not be part of any resistance you can imagine me in. I wish you well. I wish you luck and love. Above all, I wish you away from me, the bane of your life. Sorry, I will not be used ever again to excuse your limitations. What I do I do out of concern and care, but if I'm stopping you then allow me to stop. I will let you burn down the bridge. I will let you walk away as it burns. I will let you do what you see fit as long as I am never used as an excuse of burden.

And if things go well, I'm happy. And if it doesn't I will not interfere. If you build the bridge I will let you. I will never again think of the greater good on your behalf, but allow you to correct your error. I will never assist in your attempt. You caused this. I wanted to warn you, but sometimes experience is a better instructor. I will not heal your wounds without consent in your case. You caused them and you are adult enough to mend them. I will not cut my life off in order to assist in yours. I have negated much of mine for the greater good and to give those who need more then what I have. I do it out of live, yet when it causes harm you have to stop. Hence I will.

It saddens me. It makes me feel bad and it hurt me in a way that I would ball up and cry since I care for those even if I must not. Maybe this is my fault or just how I was meant to be by those who hurt me. I love you, but don't come near me. I've bleed for everyone enough. A select few I would take a bullet for and perhaps two, but in the long run I will not hinder your progress in any way, even if it's to shield you from harm. It's a risk, but one I will take. Especially if I don't want to cause harm and to hinder any progress.

So.....yea.....I still wonder if I don't right even though I have no other choice in the matter. I will not suffer for your errors and I will not take your blame if you need a scapegoat. That time is gone and even though I care a heavy heart that aches, I know I'm doing what is right.

Primum non nocere; 
Non Imprdire Progressum

Addendum: Always double check which variation of words entered into babble fish unless you want to argue against the point you are trying to make. Geesh.......so sad so silly.,

Putting One Foot in front of the Other

Just took my stats. Being the first month in, I know that I won't see much in body fat change or visual change to my body. Yet taking body measurements one can devise how much of a change a month's worth of work can do.

Mind you, in four weeks I've basically restarted running after a four month hiatus and I've included 4.0 mile runs after realizing that I can physically endure 3.5 miles. Starting out running again you see any benefits until a month in. Your body is busy changing to stimulus (i.e. exercise) and it does not gain any positive change until it finally hits homeostasis. That was this week for me as I burned through my times for 3.01 mile and 4 mile run. I'm still averaging 235 lbs. I'm still moving about in 23% body fat. The only change is that I'm now physically able to push myself harder then I was able to before. This is going to fuel alot of change in the second and third month.

So looking over my body measurements from August and just now I can see that over all my weight went up due to increase of lean muscle mass yet my body fat percentage continues in the 23%. Overall areas where I've lost in mm is in the chest (-2.3 mm), mid abdominal (-3.8 mm), waist (-1.3), thighs (-1.9 mm both), and calves (-0.6 both) while increasing Lft Bicep (+0.6) and forearms (+1.3 both) while neck remains at (40.6 mm) and Rht bicep at (36.83 mm).

So so far, I've lost mm in areas where I would carry body fat while increasing in areas that usually are not worked as much i.e. left arm. Not bad. Pretty good. Also my resting heart rate averages at 52 bpm from 56 bpm. Hopefully I can get it back down to 48 where I had it when I ran like a refined spitting camel.

I'm going to continue to veg until Monday where I put in more work again. Overall goals are to work my runs for lesser time and increase suspension work with some core work on the third day. Big goals.

So....yea....this. Figure I should share.

So...yay me.

Heh....figured that I might as well use that whole degree thing.

.....the hardest part is going to be to continue. To not give up and go back to start. To keep working and continue to get myself to where I want to be. In other words, to not quit on me. To not stop in apathy and allow my hard work to go sallow.

I have to keep believing in me and to make myself focus.

I have to try.

Relearning to Feel Feelings Often Offer Once Rejected Offenses or Going to Finish What you Left on your Emotional Plate When you didn't Want it in the First Place

Felt lonely just now. Considering that I don't feel much outside of anger and the occasional puckishness, this is something. I was told that I'm going to have to reintegrate alot of bad feelings before I can be "normal". So far some annoyance and some anger.

So this is different. This is hollow and loud silence that almost shouts. It's feeling out of place and left out. It's knowing that there are people who would warmly welcome you and others who will bring you into their fold with a warm embrace who you haven't even met.

I would like to say that this feeling scares me, but I'm more then used to it, being an only child and just having to do things on my own for so long, even when I'm part of a large group. As as much as I honestly want to to belong or be needed or even be someone's, I've been here before, some trips shorter then others only to return with a faint remembrance of who I once was picking up shattered pieces of who or what I was.

Being me I've learned the hard facts that one day I will probably pass alone as many times I've live hard and good moments alone. Some call it horror, yet just like being chilled by cold there comes a point where it's not felt and the fear fades.

I honestly don't think I want to give that up yet. I've been over to the other side and see how grass can be green and such. I'm not impressed. I've met many loves of my life only to lose them in a bad turn other simply not being what I assumed by their presence. There is strength knowing I can walk away. I can be detached and not care. There comes a point where loneliness makes fool of others while you know well enough how the song goes. I won't ever make that mistake again and as much as 9 years celibate can be daunting to others, I have not spent any moment with someone who made me feel less then what I am, feel abandoned, or even shocked when a secret moment of insanity flares up and you realized the person you made your life with exploded into something you can still not believe.

I have my stories. I have my scars. I've said enough. For that price, I walk freely. I will pay less for tickets and always arrive stag. For the same price I will always sit on a dysfunctional see-saw, will have no one waiting up, will have to make dinner in silence unless I decide to fill that noise. Considering it all, I'm good.

So I'll listen to 12d3, play along on the guitar, sigh a sigh of sleeping in a cold bed and if lucky sleep a slumber unaffected by others. For this, I will keep what's left of me together considering I've given enough of me away to those who didn't need it. I will never have to share my treats. The couch will always be mine. I will always use my spare time for my use and privilege.

It's a harsh trade, but I'm already used to the draw backs. Just need to become accustomed to the benefits.