Cast into darkness of darkness’ shadow,
Far from home, where heaven’s light could be found
Within my soul, and I within its bow,
Where the arc of the rainbow’s promise bound

My gently beating heart to Eden’s tree
Whose life was bestowed upon my dark ire,
From beyond the realm of Solitude’s sea
Across the depths of the ocean’s sapphire,

The fallen one, with wings of sorrow’s bite,
I was no more, joined only by shallow breath,
Alone with my sins and fears, a pitied sight,
For in failure, my only reward…death

And so it was, that I would be destroyed,
Until angels rescued this little boy…

The embrace of shadow. The darkness, I have found, is as comforting as it is frightening. There is a sense of deep loss, but also of pure release. It is a world of paradoxes, a world where the numbing cold of doubt and trepidation can become a warming comfort of realization and confidence. Where being sightless means we can finally see the truth.

The light, in stark contrast, is searing, burning into our flesh with eyes of purified judgment. It cares nothing for anything aside from its pure state, and that it should remain pure in all ways.

But humanity is not pure. We are a broken species, with a sense of self that is contingent upon experiences, and many have suffered greatly. I believe our hope in the light is mistaken, that the painfully blinding nature of light was never created to be kind; that the fearful nature of darkness is merely a social construct, and offers more comfort and truth than its counterpart.

Just some random thoughts early on a Monday morning…

Disclaimer: This post will most likely piss many off. If this is a touchy subject for you, and you lack objectivity in any way, move on.

This may be one of the most divisive posts I’ve written. Everyone who reads this will have their own opinion already formulated as to how bad racism is, or that perhaps it isn’t as much a problem as people seem to make out. Whatever take you have on it, we must not push this aside.

Webster’s Dictionary defines racism as: “a belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race.” With the definition as our basis, let’s take a look at this.

Many of us know about Hitler’s “superior” race, the Aryans. This is a sect that is still very much alive in the world today, filled with people who are filled with hatred for anyone who doesn’t have the same skin tone, or shaved head (a more recent development for some of those who define themselves as Aryan), or you fill in the blank. I’m sure you’ve seen them, or at the very least have heard of them. It’s the idea that they are superior that leads them to figuring out ways to set them apart, to show that they are better than those who may have color in their skin.

The Ku Klux Klan is another such sect. Started much earlier than the Aryan Brotherhood, this group of Democrats (at the time) were filled with resentment at the idea of freed blacks and were a terror group meant to incite fear and hatred for the black community. Theirs was as much a response to the changing government as it was to their superior ethos.

When it comes to subjects like slavery, we can go back to the beginning of recorded history and see that slavery has always been an institution. It still exists today, in terms of human trafficking and sex slaves throughout the world, quite prevalent in America today. But we’re not here to discuss slavery, we’re here to discuss racism. So let’s dive into this, shall we?

Racism is about one’s race. So let us just nip this one in the bud. While there are varying ethnicities, cultures, etc., there is one race. The human race. The idea of race is a social construct, and biologically, while there are differences between the different cultural and ethnic groups throughout the world, we are all still one race, one species. Aside from outward appearance – skin tone, nose shape, eye shape, hair – humans are basically identical to one another, with no discernable genetic differences. Certain diseases may be more prevalent to a certain group, but often those types of things are found to be due more to habitat, lifestyle and food available to them (which includes how they prepare their food, what types, etc).

Which brings us to the reality that what we have to combat is the social construct.

Let’s get personal for a second. I’m Hispanic. I was raised Hispanic in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood, in a predominantly Hispanic town and went to a school where many of my friends were Hispanic. But I also grew up where there were gangs and with the drugs and violence associated with those gangs being around me from early childhood. Were the gangs and their associated illegal activities because of the Hispanic neighborhood? Was the “race” to blame for a proclivity toward this kind of behavior? Or was it more systemic?

These things, and more, I sought to answer as I got older. What I found was that the Hispanics that made up that particular gang were Hispanics simply because of the dominance of that particular group, in that area. Also, social issues like poverty and a distinct lack of parents at home (both parents working long hours) helped to lead to a need for the youngsters to feel wanted, and this led to the gang’s growth. These young men and women could find work, often in dealing drugs, and could, at least for that fleeting moment, change the circumstances they found themselves in.

Countless studies have been conducted on the nature vs nurture aspects of sociology, and every legitimate study I’ve looked at over the years has found that nurture is far more important to the growth of the mind and body. In short, it’s not about your genetics as much as it is about how you’re raised, and in many cases, where. City or rural? Inner city or suburbs? Section 8 housing or a mansion? Wise parents or parents who just don’t give a damn? These are the things that matter.

Biologically speaking, it is genetic variation that produces the strongest offspring. As such, the idea of a superior race is ludicrous, at best.

I have seen in my lifetime that people tend to gravitate toward others who are like them, which makes sense. But how do they determine what makes another person similar to themselves? Often times, it is skin tone first, then personal history. We almost don’t realize we’re doing it, but we automatically segregate ourselves based on who we perceive is the best fit for us, and is most often based on what we see first. That instant judgment we cast.

Then, the more time we spend with these individuals, the more like them we will become. You see, we are nothing more than a product of our environment. We turn into the things we surround ourselves with the most. This is the beginning of the problems we see around us.

Why does racism exist? Because we classify ourselves. Because we find people who we believe are most like us and we become that person. Because then, we decide we want to belong, and turn into a person we may or may not like. I call this effect reverse racism.  It is important to distinguish what I’m saying here from the liberal take on reverse racism, citing it as simply another means of belittling an evident issue, detracting from the inherent problem we are currently dealing with. However, how else do we explain black groups who hate the whites for their skin color (they may claim “white privilege” but that’s not really it).

It’s odd. As I’ve watched the news and videos surrounding the Black Lives Matter movement, I’ve noticed something ironic. It’s an air of superiority these particular blacks seem to have around them, as though they are better than the whites who are nearby, in some cases attacking them simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

As I’ve said in previous posts, there is an idea that seems prevalent – that because my ancestry was slighted, so, too am I. This is wrong. I went on to make the point that we are nothing more than a cumulative sum of our choices. This is what is missing from the picture.

In 2008, the United States made history, electing its first African American president, ushering in hope and change for the United States. Except it was more of the same, and in those eight years of Obama’s term, he did some good as well as some not so good. But one thing that got exacerbated beyond all recognition was the topic of race. Obama was elected, in large part I think, because of his skin tone. Because so many were wanting to force the issue on America, to prove we had finally moved beyond our petty differences. A beautiful notion, to be sure, and I thought it was a nice symbol overall, even though I didn’t vote for Obama, and haven’t much cared for him as a president.

That being said, however, it should be noted that the racial divides and tensions, mirroring the political divides and tensions, have gotten really bad in the past eight years. Every bit of forward progress we had made up to that point seems to have been erased. And we did it to ourselves, through our own ignorance and stupidity.

There is no race. There is only us. The wrongs of the past are past. The wrongs of today, while present, are not what we make them out to be. We are prone to exaggeration, and because of that we make mountains out of mole hills, we make the issues more than they are. I don’t know, perhaps what we need is a little more perspective. Maybe what we need is less selfishness and a little more selflessness. Maybe we need to do is let go of our past, so we can make for ourselves a better future for us and our children.

We must never forget. But we cannot dwell.

One day, I would love for others to see us as I do. A tiny blue speck in a sea of stars and inky blackness. If the earth is literally nothing in the vastness of the universe, what then do we matter? As of right now, we are all we have. And right now, it seems we’re pretty set on stepping on each other and killing each other off in an attempt to be king of our nothing world. What matters, my friends, what truly matters, is not you, not me, but everything and everyone that surrounds us. Let us expand our minds, collectively, and rise above the petty nonsense that describes us best today.

I can only speak from personal experience here. But I imagine that for most writers, there is some kind of conduit or lens through which our stories – be they short stories, novels, poetry, etc. – are written through.

For me, that lens is through experiences in life. As I have grown over time into the man I am now, I have walked through more than a few hells, and faced more than a few demons. I believe it is the same for us all.

As I walk through an outline of what I want the story to be, or say, I think about the things that make for compelling storytelling. Difficulty, in nearly every possible way. Despair and hopelessness, a couple of friends who have found a permanent place in my life, really lead toward life-changing events. But only when the very depths of the darkness have been found can one understand the light. And that is where hope comes in.

These few elements, while simplistic in understanding, are what I have found make for the best stories, because understanding what these are is only the beginning, and the journey is filled varying shades of all of these, to varying degrees of complexity. The hero’s journey may lead to one becoming a hero…or to a hero falling from grace.

I think everyone has dealt with these issues in life. I don’t think the hells we endure are justified, ever, but they can make for knowing, on a deeper level, the very things that make us human, and even in fantasy we can apply these ideas, these ideals, the best and worst of those things we’ve been witness to, and out of these things we create a tale, woven through with elements of all.

I believe the truth behind the story is what makes the best stories. It is said that the author is hidden within their tale. Perhaps in one of the characters, or maybe in events that happen to the characters. This, to me, is what makes the reader hate or love these characters. I’ve found myself hating characters because they remind me of me, and all the worst of me, too.

So I guess what I’m trying to say here, is to remember that when you’re reading a book, a poem, or a story of any type, that you are reading someone’s life. Their time, their energy, and most importantly, elements of what made them who they are…

Thank you.

I wake up to the nightmare again. I can still see their faces, and I feel a mix of terror and anger, as though I was still that helpless young boy they took advantage of, and ruined.

Despair and ruination was all I knew. My memories will forever haunt me, but as I come to, I realize that it was all in the past, although telling that to my anger won’t calm me so quickly.

I grew up with rage and fear. None of which was made better by the actions of my loved ones surrounding me, save for my grandma, but then I lost her at the age of 11, so I found myself alone again.

Having dealt with PTSD since then, and no one really knowing what it was until more recently, I had to overcome my demons, or worse could happen. You see, I learned since then that if I were going to survive, I had to fight back. What I didn’t know or figure out until much later was: what am I fighting, and why does it matter that fight this fight?

My subsequent depressions told me something else. They reminded me that I was nothing. That I didn’t matter. That my soul was tainted, and beyond repair. That my fight was a selfish one, because my life was irrelevant. That I might as well do everyone a favor and just exit the world with whatever grace I may still have.

It would take me years, and many times very near suicide, to finally figure out that my depression was right.

Let me explain. I don’t matter. My life is just one among nearly 7 billion others. The earth would not miss me, and the universe cares even less. I’m insignificantly tiny, literally nothing, when considering the grandeur of the wonders that surround us.

But there is something that does matter. What matters is how I choose to perceive the world, and whether or not I choose to better it. What matters is how I treat my fellow human. What matters is everything around me.

Depression, when it creeps its ugly head, is about me. Joy, it turns out, is about everyone and everything that surrounds me. This does not, and cannot, negate depression or its effects, but for me, it gives me perspective as long as I can remind myself of these things. And if my words can give support or hope to those who have been where I have, then it was all worth it, and I would face my demons again…just to see you smile one more time.

Thanks for reading,

Robert

Dark, with depths unknown,
a well without a spring
lays patiently in wait
for summer rains that never come.

The brush, long since dried,
is frustrated, caught between
solemn stones and playful winds.

A pattern is seen within the sand
being blown about, a waltz with
decaying leaves flitting as
butterflies in broken synchronicity.

Her long hair partially hides her
face in strange wisps,
odd shadows forming as the sun
grasps hopelessly for more day,

lips curled at the precipice
…of a smile.

I am an introvert.

Apparently, I am part of approximately half of the world’s population.  Although there are varying degrees to which introversion takes hold.  I can’t say to which degree I am, but I can say that I really covet my alone time in order to recharge my batteries.

Lately, however, this has gotten harder and harder.  Even the simple public activities where I am not speaking with anyone has been draining.  The light in all this, however, is that there are a select few people who can help keep me going, mostly by just being the type of conversationalist I need in my day to day life.

Between family, work, sports and school, my days are packed, scheduled and all around don’t belong to me.  I really don’t know how much longer I can go before I disappear for a while.  Maybe I can find a quiet little hovel, bring my favorite book, and just sit down to enjoy.  I don’t require much, just some peace and quiet, maybe a glass of wine, and either a good book or some paper and a pen.

I grew up with extroverted parents and brothers.  I was the oddball out.  No one in my loud, obnoxious family could understand how I could just sit in my room and read all day, or play with my Legos, completely lost in another world of my own creation.  I remember being forced to go outside and play – I’d be out there for 10 minutes tops, and then I was back in my room.

Granted, there were other reasons for my hiding from the world, to be sure, but we won’t go into those things in this post.  My nature was simply to hide from it all, let the world pass me by while I enjoyed other worlds, even if only fantasy.  I still do this sometimes.

As I work on my stories, I find myself transported back in time, to when I was sitting on my bed, reading a good book, maybe Lord of the Rings, or the Chronicles of Narnia.  I picture myself in any one of those suspenseful moments, at the edge of my seat, excited and jumping out of my skin to see what’s going to happen next.  While I’m not that good of a writer, I do believe that this is where I’d like to be.

Being introspective, and seeing things from an outside perspective, even if it’s like looking at myself through a time lens, seems to help me grow.

I think in doing this, I have been able to maintain my childlike wonder.  My awe at the little things.  I remember freaking out a few years back because we were taught in grade school that plants “eat” light.  What I never realized until I was in the physics world was that plants literally catch photons…and for those of us who had never thought about that, and understand just how impossibly small a photon is…this is a huge deal.

I love the feeling of being able to be excited by something.  Even if I know the subject matter.  I love it when others share in my enthusiasm and we get even more excited over some mutual affectation.

What is maturity?  I fear maturity is an excuse to put aside the child within, and lose yourself to the hells of life.  Because of this, I live each day as though maturity is nothing more than an option.  Sure, I have my wife and daughters, and there comes responsibilities along with all of this, but that is simply a matter of growing older.  My hope is that I am able to foster and help maintain the same wonder and awe within my little girls.

As I’ve told my parents, I am happy with who I am, because it’s allowed me to keep or develop a part of me that so many tried to steal from me so early in my life.

But that tale is for another time.  Thanks for listening.

In Machiavelli’s The Prince, he makes a few statements regarding the pacification of the masses, and how to keep them contented under the rule of the governing body, or at least how to make them fear enough to keep them silent in their activities.

He advocates for complete subjugation of the people, and once established, to move forward as necessary toward other objectives.  With the subjugation of the populace, the support required of the people for the furtherance of the country is assured.

“At this point one may note that men must be either pampered or annihilated. They avenge light offenses; they cannot avenge severe ones; hence, the harm one does to a man must be such as to obviate any fear of revenge.”

He also speaks to authority needing to be given to the military.  How the best interests of state are best seen to by the same.

Machiavelli also spoke of why this was necessary, using a type of pseudo-sociology to justify his beliefs.  Mainly, he focused on the worst of mankind.  Unfortunately, based on much of what we see, he is not entirely wrong as mankind, in large part, is quick to fall back on more…primitive…actions and ideologies.

“A prince must have no other objective, no other thought, nor take up any profession but that of war, its methods and its discipline, for that is the only art expected of a ruler. And it is of such great value that it not only keeps hereditary princes in power, but often raises men of lowly condition to that rank.”

He cares nothing for the people, just that the people are placated.  After all, a quiet populace makes for easier action.

“Here a question arises: whether it is better to be loved than feared, or the reverse. The answer is, of course, that it would be best to be both loved and feared. But since the two rarely come together, anyone compelled to choose will find greater security in being feared than in being loved. . . . Love endures by a bond which men, being scoundrels, may break whenever it serves their advantage to do so; but fear is supported by the dread of pain, which is ever present.”

Now, for those of you who know me, I dislike talking down to anyone, but can you see what I consider to be obvious conclusions?  Right, left, it doesn’t matter, in a system like what we see in The Prince, they’re the same thing, with the same goals, working to obtain more power.  Sound familiar?

All quotes pulled from The Prince, by Niccolo Machiavelli.

I tire of humanity.  I look around me and see only the foolishness of monkeys flinging poo at each other.  I thought it was easy to put the pieces together, to see how horribly we have screwed things up, and yet I have found myself alone more often than not, trying to fight the good fight.  And while I refuse to give up, I am exhausted.

We live in a “free” country.  The United States was founded on the principles of freedom and hope for a better future.  Granted, we’ve had a rough go of it, and have made more than a few mistakes along the way, especially with the likes of slavery, mass genocide, wars, and the list goes on, but somehow, we have found a way through the mire, we have found a way to persevere.  I often sit in awe at the resilience of mankind, Americans no different here.  Our spirit is strong, and we find strength we often don’t realize is there in order to press through to the other side of whatever it is we may be facing.

We all have a story.  Each of us with a past, some good, some not so good, but a story nonetheless. The most compelling stories are those fraught with struggle, and the story of America is not any different.

However, it must be noted that we are at a crossroads, really more of an impasse.  Collectively, as a nation, we have backed ourselves into a corner.  In the struggle for the need to be right all the time, we have done the unthinkable – we have systematically been giving up our freedom.  Yes, the very freedom we cherish so much.  The same freedom we have forced on other countries throughout the world.  THAT freedom.

Our desire to be right has shown itself in politics in the worst possible way.  I’m sure I could go back and pinpoint the era in which this all began, probably in large part starting with Teddy Roosevelt, or perhaps Franklin Delano Roosevelt.  High counts of executive orders, the start of the social welfare systems, respectively – I’m not saying these things are the entire reason, but in seeking causality, I find these to be the beginning of what we see now, at least in larger part than most others, including the likes of Lincoln.

Keep in mind I am using social welfare only as an example, but the fundamental elements of what I’m about to say work across the spectrum.

I am in no way saying the social welfare systems FDR put in place are bad in any way.  As intended, these are great ways for those who are lacking in funds to be able to keep the lights on, or put food on the table, or, in winter months, for the luxury of warmth.  All too often we take these things for granted.  Having grown up poor, I got to bear witness to many of these things firsthand.  But, we have created a system wherein only a few of those who have found themselves in need of such services have found a way to rise beyond them.  We’ve created a system that feeds into itself by perpetually keeping people dependent.

Once we’ve established dependency, there is very little we can do to mitigate the damage, and at that point, the best we can do is sustain.  This is why we see poorer states voting toward the democratic left, because they sustain the programs the majority of the people require to provide for their families.  Inherently, this isn’t a bad thing, but the dependency on it is.  However, we cannot look at one side without looking at the other…

The republican right, in direct opposition to the left, is equally at fault.  They wish to remove these social programs outright, citing the dependency, but not offering a means to fixing the underlying problem.

You see, the dependency is merely a symptom, nothing more.  The problem goes much deeper.  Inflation of costs associated with living have risen exponentially while average wages have remained stagnant, at best, and in most cases, has dropped (when adjusted for inflation).  Basic sustenance is a problem – when a family has to forego their electricity in favor of food, we have a problem.  Many of these families aren’t excessively spending, often trying to be wise with how they budget…but let’s face facts, there is all too often too much budget left at the end of the paycheck.

This all feeds back into the issue of social welfare programs, which are designed to aid in trying financial times.  But, as you can also see, the dependency is created by the lack.  A simple raise in minimum wage cannot fix this problem due to inflation – the costs of goods required to live (housing, food and clothing) will skyrocket in response to higher wages in order to compensate for the losses companies will inevitably face.  More social welfare programs exacerbate this problem by creating more dependency.  It’s all a vicious cycle.

Here’s how it all ties in.  The meat to the potatoes, so to speak.  Americans at large seem to have this grand ideal in their heads as to how all of this is supposed to work.  Everyone is right.  And in their effort to prove they’re right, they form groups who share their opinions and are then diametrically opposed to those who think differently.  Enter politics.

The Democrats and Republicans use this antagonistic energy between the people to feed and grow stronger from.  And this is how they end up controlling us.  They’re using us against us, and how do we respond?  Instead of responding in unity, we buy further into the rhetoric and further allow them to control how we feel and how we react.

The worst part of this, however, isn’t the control as much as it is the methodical, systematic, and willing removal of freedom.  Allow me to explain.

Our freedoms are considered inalienable rights.  Yet, through our desires to see social aspects of life become law, we are encroaching (in some cases completely alienating) those rights.  We have become far too politically correct, everyone is easily offended and needs safe spaces in order to function because our feelings are hurt by others being mean, or not agreeing with us.

Fact:  Assholes exist.  Now get over yourself.  And who’s to say you’re not the asshole for expecting everyone to think just like you?

These things are what have brought us to where we now stand.  We collectively elect someone who thinks like us, and they in turn write and pass laws that back up what we believe to be right.  This becomes law and my rights are infringed upon.  Then, we don’t like some of what that guy did, so we vote for the other guy, who does the exact same thing, just from the other angle.  Soon, the social aspects of life will all be regulated by law, which will inevitably lead to no one having the right to speak freely, or worse yet, to be able to speak openly regarding the injustices of the government.  You can see it, can’t you?

We have legislated ourselves into submission by submitting ourselves to the rampant stupidity of extremes.  We have willingly, if foolishly, asked for this.  When the sheep willingly lead themselves to the slaughter out of fear, guess who’s having mutton for dinner…

 

Kisses upon your face, while our sorrows
Vanish with all sight as we close our eyes,
And our lips meet in a moment borrowed,
My arm around you, bringing our demise,

Where a new life was now birthed within us,
Our world was forever changed, as your smile
Bound me to you while slowly breeding love,
So we walk, hand in hand, mile after mile…

The road of life may not always be smooth,
With its downward spirals and uphill climbs,
Yet through it all, your fears and doubts I’ll soothe,
Within my embrace, and for our lifetime,

Where our hearts may forever beat as one,
Beneath the skies, the stars, the moon, the sun.