Try I do, to do the right thing,
Suck it up and bite the bean,
Keep it honest, keep it clean,
Oil the gears in this here machine;
Profound lessons learned on mescalene,
While at school all they see are mass shootings,
A universe stealthily winding up to spring,
As we build bombs and don’t suspect a thing;
Life must take pleasure in shaping misery,
While mutated versions of my fellow human being,
Clueless and empty like a fuzzy TV screen,
Get go on thinking they got anything on me.
Tired of what? I really don’t know how to package this thing that so tires my spirit into any words that I know; this thing that drains the very life from my span is something intangible, something unseen, something undefined…by me, at least. I think it might well be what some folks consider as “love”, others maybe call the same thing “empathy”, “caring” or any one of many titles associated with feeling shit for other people. It hurts me to let my guard down, every time…which in turn, creates the ugly pattern of isolation and loneliness. Those are the rock and hard place that my existence seems to teeter between. That unpromising predicament doesn’t even take into consideration, the horrific train wreck that litters debris throughout the space between that rock and that hard place. It just doesn’t ever turn out to be worth it to get close to anyone to any degree, as most people tend to mutated versions of human being who never dive below the shallow surface of things.
I don’t mean to judge, but damn…if you are so fucked up that you can’t control yourself from needlessly and carelessly victimizing good people just because you can, you should be the hermit in isolation, not me…wtf?
The word, alone, conjures up images of schizophrenic women huddling in corners, whispering to themselves, insane – completely detached from any reality that any observer may live inside of…I always default back to the book I read during my time in the Girls’ Ranch when I was fourteen about a survivor of ritualistic childhood trauma, the only way this creature was able to survive at all was through dissociation – to the point of losing herself somewhere within its comforts along the way.
I am not a childhood trauma survivor; I cannot emphasize enough – my unwavering admiration and respect and awe of this type of survivor, though it deeply hurts my heart that they even exist at all as a face of Survival…
Children…Children = whatever hope we have left as a species…the cycle of abusing them is in dire need of a screeching halt caused by our own feet sticking firmly in the ground and demanding it. The damage it causes is creating an unseen evolution in our entire species – RECOGNIZE.
Dissociation is a psychological coping mechanism that is often utilized by children in traumatizing situations from which they are unable to physically escape to safety. It is also commonly seen in “battered women” with the same inability. I became very intimately familiar with this form of mental escapism as a means of physical survival during my marriage to a psychopathic murderer; it was, in my opinion, the very most important tool that I used throughout the entirety of my living nightmare – it enabled me to survive.
Despite my very personal experiences with dissociation and the execution of its use in my own past, over the decade in between then and now, I have been successful in learning to keep its use from creeping so far into my daily existence that it throttles out the original “me” with traits that define the “me” who I essentially created back then to be stronger, to be the protector, to be the survivor, to be the primordial. I believe this has ONLY been possible for me due to the fact that dissociation did not become a mechanism of mine until I was a young adult in a tragic situation; I am also able to see very clearly: the hairline fractures left in my soul from its presence in my life for a short time. It’s as a direct result of my own experiences with dissociation, that I am able to readily bleed for anyone who I happen upon that continues to dissociate as an adult – man or woman. The root cause of this psychological affect is so horrible and full of helplessness and hopelessness that it’s difficult to even put into words – what must cause an adult to retract into la-la land as a means self-preservation…I can tell you whatever it is, will be anything but a simple “fix”.
The purpose behind this post is not to sway any opinions by any means, if you are a judgmental ass – I can’t change you…but it really bothers me when I am reading things that are spilled out of a heart belonging to someone who has obviously been through some serious shit – only to follow it up by reading mean-spirited and heartless bullshit in the comments section left from some jackass douche-bag with a quarter brain cell. When you have the capacity to go out of your way to talk shit to a stranger in obvious emotional turmoil, what does that say about what the fuck you REALLY are at the end of the day? Chew on that, please. I’m sorry that you have an emotionally unstable and troubled ex-girlfriend who happened to manifest her own demons by fucking your friends behind your weaselly back, but that doesn’t automatically chalk up the word dissociation with her and her behaviors that you experienced. DO SOME HOMEWORK before you publicize your complete lack of knowledge and//or humanity, if such is not your intention. You reek of stupidity and weakness. Seriously, I’m embarrassed foryou upon reading such garbage you see fit to leave scattered across places of healing energy. You should be ashamed of yourselves, every last one of you. Let me ask you – any of you shallow mother fuckers that troll to talk shit:
Does anyone here actually believe that an adult would purposely or intentionally CHOOSE to have to escape reality in order to deal with it? REALLY???
Thisis what’s wrong with everything, you blind fucks!!! YOU.
Haven’t you noticed? There’s no light on inside; Just a pirated, drifting vessel… On a map that is preoccupied. Doesn’t it occur to you? That the twinkle is gone from my eyes; Just two dulled down, blue marbles… Attached to nothing on their’ other sides. Has it never bothered you? When it’s so quiet where I once sat; Just an empty, overstuffed recliner… You don’t even think twice about that. Aren’t there days when you resurface? To realize you never left the shallow end; Just the guilt eating, gnawing away… And you’re too overcome to pretend. Don’t you feel sorry every day? That you see me without my smile; Just an empty expression, hollow eyed… Can’t forget the pain for even a little while. Aren’t you aware on some level? Of the ways that you’ve crossed over me; Just a self-absorbed, oblivious mutant… So clueless to the ways of TRUE humanity. Haven’t you already seen me? For the woman I actually am; Just dimes of dozens, dingbat ‘play things’… Tell me that you are, after all – no REAL man. Didn’t you hear my warnings? And didn’t choose to take heed to my cries; Just stood there pretending, ignoring… The Fucking Truth gouging out both your eyes.
“Oh my God! You live with Him?” her voice naturally lowered itself upon her own realization of how “teenaged girl” she was behaving; I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes and nod at her typical reaction.
“Yes…right next door…I even see him nearly naked on a daily basis…” I continued my speedy pace towards my newest roommate, “the Orphan”, where he sat in the shade under a tree on the side of the busy streets of the local Farmer’s Market.
“Okay, try to control yourself, Chica…he’s very timid, despite his gorgeousness…go easy on the lil’ guy…”my voice trails off as my cousin and I approach the Orphan’s position, and I inhale a deep breath to begin my introductions so that she might just go on about her business and leave he and I in peace to mosey the marketplace.
Her hand shoots out across the center of our tiny crowd of three before I can finish my first sentence – the one that would have included what a dumbass she is, if I had been obliged – and she begins to take off on one of her notorious tangents about how awesome she is. I can see the “deer come into the headlights” immediately from the corner of my left eye, where the Orphan stands, shocked like a hunted beast in the netting, his curious nature being nearly overtaken by over-stimulus of the most uncomfortable kinds for a person like him.
“Chris, listen…he doesn’t speak English so well,” (a total line of fabricated reality, as his English vocabulary and conversational skill often gets me up on my own toes…) “how would you like it if you were visiting a foreign place and some totally hot guy came up and bombarded you with words you couldn’t quite process…?” I see the smirk of disgusted recognition disappear just as quickly as it had appeared from the Orphan’s face to my side; I hear my cousin let out a long, frustrated breath as she pulls my arm, forcing me to step once to my right. She hisses into my ear and it feels as if someone is holding an acetylene torch to it as she says, “I don’t care if he speaks English…I just like how good he looks, Bambi….C’mon, you’re messin’ up my cha-cha…”.
She releases my arm and pushes me gently away from her and the Orphan as if to tell me to kick rocks, which I happily did – I know something she doesn’t know.
It only takes about a minute and half before he catches up to me on the trail towards our neck of the little woods where we live; he is smiling broadly and looking content. I say, “I knew you could handle yourself…”
I once believed in my fellow human being – the same kind of human being as the kind that I am: a creature that is fully capable and often willing to lay importance at the feet of anything outside of itself, genuine in the spirits of kindness and empathy. I used to have faith of embarrassing depths in the notion that most, if not all, other people I knew were hardwired to perceive something as seemingly innate as the consideration of needs belonging to those besides ourselves. I have learned in the hardest of ways, however, that the vast majority of so-called humans, are in stark contrast to the type of human being that I remain. When I use the word “remain” to describe the way I feel about the obvious differences between me and 9 out of 10 people that I know, it’s meant to convey the underlying sense that I harbor regarding the human species’ and the Darwinian theory of physiological evolution. It seems as if people, or at the very least – those whom reside in even the most subtle of urban populations, are speedily adapting to our surrounding stimuli and environmental variables, as we have historically done in social settings; there is no profound or enlightening information surrounding human ability to adapt in a wide range of extremely disparate scenarios. The difference that I have repeatedly observed as quite an alarming implication of the future course all of humankind – one that has become increasingly prevalent and even sub-consciously celebrated in our populations worldwide – would most certainly be the way in which humankind has branched out within the parameters of those adaptations.
For example, in the Missing Link Theory of human genetics, we have perceived this Missing Link as the bridge that will explain the vast differences between the behaviors and cultures of the modern human (Homo sapien) lifestyle and those of our closest ancestors, Homo neanderthalensis i.e. “Ötzi, The Ice Man” and Homo floresiensis i.e. “Flo, The Flores Man”. Our species were separated by differences in lifestyle so vast and dumbfounding, that the only reasonable cause for such differences has been identified as evolution. This apparently random type of “leap mutation” between genetically embedded codes associated with each species, miraculously proved to be the essence of Human Evolution. There remains an unknown variable (the missing link) that was theoretically a necessary element that directly caused the effected fast-track of the human species to the top of the food chain during this evolutionary shift in power amongst our ancient ancestors and those similar in classification. Scientists cannot say for certain why it was US (humans), as opposed to the various hominid species around at that point in history (at least one class is known to have had notably larger brains than humans) – excelled in the unprecedented advancements we achieved. The sudden explosion of creative processes such as the formation and widespread use of verbal and symbolic communications, tool crafting and building, and hunting wild animals for use of meat, fur and hide, practices never before mastered by any mammalian creature, offers evidence that something physiological happened that changed the wiring in the human brain – thus, explaining the extreme adaptations to the human physique and lifestyle.
Every other hominid-family species died off shortly after our time of shared existence. The next amazing fact surrounding our exceptional evolutionary leap ahead of our counterparts – would undoubtedly be how our species not only survived the mass dying-out of our entire family of genetic kin, we seemed to have flourished throughout such an ordeal; our skills became honed and our crafts were practiced and perfected to an art. We have prevailed at the top of the food chain for centuries – on an innately hardwired quest in search of knowledge through discovery and control through dominance. The ever-more-familiar changes in human behavior (generally speaking) speak volumes to me about how deeply embedded the notion of selfishness and self-absorption truly have become in the mutants all around me – the mutated versions of would-be human beings that make up the easy majority of the national population – and most likely – the Global Population. These obnoxiously shallow creatures are the type who don’t think the rules of the world apply to them, and act accordingly in every aspect of daily life; these are the assholes who don’t feel like they should have to wait in traffic like the rest of us, so they cut in line or drive the shoulder; the very same people who steal and lie unnecessarily – in the spirit of being “control” over what doesn’t belong to them. The collective human mind has quickly become over- motivated by a tangible, tradable wealth; in place the eternally important spiritual one.
A friend of mine said the other day, “The ideology of Control has slipped behind the driver’s seat and gotten onto the highway…” to which, I replied, “I hate to rain on your Socratic Parade, but, Control was the genius that designed and built the fuckin’ car…”
The urge harbored for centuries by humankind to control is equivalent to a social poison; a toxicity to the brain that likely infected and killed off those distant genetic cousins of ours during the Great Leap era. What puzzles me more than how we humans managed to out-evolve Neanderthals known to have had larger brains than ours, is how we have subsequently , and collectively – managed to evolve this far without the genocidal response of this seemingly genetic need to control. When faced with the question of whether or not I feel assured in my fellow human being’s ability to evolve in a “civilized” and broadly acceptable manner to which decent people should naturally have a tendency to accept and abide by, it gives me pause to think. My response would be yes, I feel confident of our species’ abilities; the uncertainty that I harbor falls much closer within the areas of human willingness and desire to forge ahead – with any true or virtuous motivation.
You’re probably sitting there, wondering, what the fuck is the point of this post?
I know – so am I…
I suppose the bottom line of this rant about my fellow human being – both the mutated and non-mutated forms of it – turns out to liquid-damaged and impossible to define; surprise, surprise. All I know is that I am chewing it up and pondering heavily: the notion of another Missing Link scenario repeating itself the not-so-distant future, another point in ultimate history that can potentially later be described as the phenomenon of an apparently super-accelerated genetic branching within the human species. Think of this the next time that you are the unfortunate victim of the inconsiderate douchebag who blocks you into your parking spot at the post office simply as a means of saving his own time and energy; or the time some idiot tried to jack you for your rightful seat at a show, because everyone knows that you should totally be okay with paying for a drunken stranger to enjoy Kevin Neelan, Dennis Miller and Dana Carvey in your place. Maybe a few of you might pick up what I’m putting down here; try and look around you and identify the differences that are becoming increasingly extreme between an old-world, empathic and considerate human being – and the more recently evolved and “refined” human being mutation – those who are unable to venture beyond the compounds of self-gratifying, self-serving and self-perseverance to a an obnoxious fault. The differences will only get more divisive over time, I would imagine; which leaves me with an anxiety hard to convey in words.