In Search of a Cure

Something has infected my life but I’m not sure if it’s the people, places or things to blame. I’ve become but a grey shell of the man I envisioned myself becoming. Maybe I should blame myself, for allowing the infection to spread. Perhaps, the cause would have been more easily identified had I paid more attention during the onset. I remember when the symptoms first started. First there was a depletion of energy and desire, to do the things I’ve always enjoyed. Then came the irritability, the annoyance at others and shortening of patience. The infection has slowly become a disease. It should be cut out. But the problem is, I’m not sure where to start, however, my lack of action has only served to bolster the affliction.

I could start with the people, at least the ones I don’t work with, since I regrettably cannot fire all of my coworkers. The stagnant, motivation-less associates whose presence continue to find ways to seep into my bubble of tranquility. The devices they use to infiltrate, are ones I enjoy myself. I wish not to disconnect myself from all contact, only from the contagious. The ones whom are affected themselves and wish to spread their disease, their misery onto others.

Or I could start with the place I’m at. This job, this stumbled into sort of career I have. My days consist of sitting at my desk, usually for only about 6 or 7 of the expected 8 hours, pretending to do work. In actuality, I’m reading theories on Game of Thrones and tweeting. Being forced to sit here everyday is a sort of paid prison experience, without the free meals and anal sex. In fact, the guy in the cubicle next to me, who clears his throat all day long, actually does sound very similar to forced anal sex. The way everyone runs around with their priorities and timelines and projects and meetings, only to have them be delayed or forgotten, makes me sick. Maybe I was infected before I came here, but this environment has surely exasperated my condition.

I used to think it was this generation, I was born into, of Facebook and Snapchat that was making me sick. But I got rid of them for a bit and my condition didn’t improve. I still found myself, dragging day in and day out, struggling to accomplish all the things I’d hoped. Maybe I just need a vacation. But to vacate, is to leave a place that you previously occupied. Is it really a vacation if you return to the place from which you’ve come? I fear that I’ll cure what afflicts me, only to have the symptoms return upon my reintegration with the diseased population.

Visions

No man has seen the things I’ve seen, both for myself and regularly

If there can be such thing as regularity living someone else’s fantasy

Where a blessing for one man, leads to a curse for another

Is this how it was intended? I didn’t see it quite like this

To imagine great successes on the backs of someone else

Still a portion of them think that this is justice at its best

To continue in this manner, should I really be this shocked?

When I probe into the future, I see shit we thought had stopped…

visions_by_kuldarleement-d6ux62dImage by Kuldar Leement

 

Creatures of the Night

Angelic voices and devilish figures.

Such dangerous creatures come out in the night.

There’s no one to save you, 

The homies slipped too. 

Like “fuck, what’d I get myself into?”

As the Captain of ship,

dude that planned the whole trip.

You would think that I’d keep us on course.

But on islands of thought, so far from the mainland,

I’d let my brothers drift astray.

There was noise all about, from my boys in and out, when I heard someone singing along.

As I turned there she was almost singing to me,

in a way that was hard to resist.

Being drawn to the sound, I approached with a smile

her voice now the only I hear.

The air became heavy, the closer I got, then the music and voices all fade.

It was silence now loudest, as I stood right in front her

feeling myself grasp for air.

Just standing and watching as I reached for something

that’s no longer meant to be had.

All I hear now, is wailing the sirens are calling

from sunset to sunrise across the horizon.

Ramblings of Unfinished…ness

La Sagrada familia is one of the most famous pieces of architecture in the world. It has fascinated me, in that it’s architect, Antoni Gaudi, died before his work could be finished. To this day, it remains unfinished in fact. The thought of beginning a project, something you know people will love, and not being able to see the completion bothered me. At first. Until I realized that I am unfinished as well, and may never be able to see what I intend for my completion to look like. 

But, if I can begin to craft what I intend for the finished product to look like. An outline, to provide an idea of what I had in mind and what I wanted my life’s work to look like… I acknowledge, things may not end up exactly like the blueprint. Do people find it more or less frustrating, to know beforehand, that the schedule of completion is tentative? Or would you prefer to believe things are on schedule, when just the opposite is true? 

Forever a Gift to Carry

Inspired by the Daily Post – Carry

Year after year, the load gets heavier. Some things you’ve picked up can stay with you forever.

At loss for how one person carries so much, to be laden with gifts of a terrible curse.

Curtains of figment will shade your brown windows, when close as I’ve been though, still prove to be lucid.

The bags that you carry get heavier yet, the fools now unknowingly carry the rest.

There is no escape from the backpack of weight, inside it the luggage of lusting and fate.

Like a spider who spins and inflicts on their prey, a poisonous dose from a toxic foray.

It’s paramount knowing your status, and if what you carry is happy or sadness

Now stifled, they’ll realized the choice that they’ve made, won’t end as they wished soon all hope will then fade.

The Only Terror I Know

For decades, in America, local law enforcement has successfully alienated minority groups. They have done so both passively and aggressively in the neighborhoods they are sworn to protect and serve. It is clear now, on today, to me that there must be reform within the policing community. The police we have in this country are terrified of young, black males and there is nothing more dangerous than a coward with a gun (and badge). The nature of the job itself puts these officers lives in danger every minute, of every incident, of every day. The excuse that “I feared for my life” is invalid. When police execute America citizens, these are acts of domestic terror and should be prosecuted as such.

Terrorism is defined by the FBI as an act that meets the following:

Appears intended (i) to intimidate or coerce a civilian population; (ii) to influence the policy of a government by intimidation or coercion; or (iii) to affect the conduct of a government by mass destruction, assassination. or kidnapping.

When I read that definition, the first thing I thought of was not ISIS, but law enforcement in America. Shooting a black man who is resisting arrest, is CLEARLY an act intended to coerce not only the suspect into submission, but other black men who would think of resisting an unlawful arrest. How do you stop suspects in the future from resisting? Murder the ones that do. That is terrorism.

The expectation of police is to use reasonable force early, to avoid using excessive force. But what exactly is reasonable force? Is it a taser? Pepper spray? Or 4 shots into the chest? The major problem I see is that too many police tactics are open to interpretation of the officer in question. If the military has rules of engagement, then the police in civilian communities should as well.

In Afghanistan, the U.S. military is not cleared to engage even if an individual has been identified as a member of the Taliban. Yet on U.S. soil, an officer of the law can commit homicide, claim that he feared for his life and procure the support of mainstream white America.

Police should never draw their weapons without clear indication that the suspect is armed and posing an immediate threat to their lives. Obviously, there are certain scenarios in which a split second decision must be made by law enforcement. All too often though, the police use lethal force when confronted with resistance or sometimes simply through misjudging the victim. If everyday citizens began shooting police officers because they feared for their lives in split second decisions, would they be acquitted in the court of law? Highly unlikely. Yet, we see this occur year after year with law enforcement. The police nationwide must be held accountable for the actions of their fellow officers, as our entire community is held for the criminals in ours.

Above all though, I just want to see this stop.

“Brother, Brother, Brother… There’s far too many of you dying”

The Voices

Life should be a blessing, though to some it’s a curse

you’re damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.

How can you continue, to prosper and grow

when living just simply excites you no more?

 

Whole lists of achievements, and trophies to show

acquaintances feigning to feel what you know.

In a lonely dark place, where the shuttles don’t run

I hear lots of voices, yet faces see none.

 

Their words are just whispers, though, I hear them well

extended vacation, all paid for, in hell.

It hurts to admit, that I’m tempted at times

by voices with lives not too different from mine.

 

My mind has been poisoned, the heart will soon follow

any light that was left will too fade, as I wallow.

Awaiting the outcome, reserved to the fate

the voices are calling, no longer they wait…

 

Suicide affects all of us. If you, a friend or family member are suffering from mental illness or have suicidal thoughts PLEASE Call the Suicide Prevention Hotline @ 1-800-273-8255.

 

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