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Why People Fear the Dark

“It’s not fear of the dark itself, it’s what hides within the most hidden parts of it.”

-Anonymous

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Many people think that a fear of the dark is something for children to obsess over, a nighttime terror that is felt by those too young to associate the truth of the dark with the reality that exists beyond their sense of reasoning. That might be valid if such a belief hadn’t been debunked a long time ago. Some kids simply aren’t afraid of the dark and never have been. Some adults however have never seen the link develop between reality and the fears that their overactive minds constantly produce concerning the dark.

It’s not something to be ashamed of, though it is something that might be wise to work past since fear of the dark is something quite vague that can encompass a wide array of fears that make little sense and don’t always coincide with a rational, healthy mindset.

We fear the dark for the same reason that our ancestors did if you want the honest truth. The dark brings forth a great many dangers that we don’t feel equipped to deal with since we can’t see them coming. In the days before civilization mankind was vulnerable in the dark, they were exposed, forced to either hide or find ways to defend themselves against a world in which predators had adapted to hunt their prey in day or night. This gave rise to the beliefs that many still entertain today, that darkness is evil, that it is the domain of all things vile and destructive. While that might be so and is a very strong belief within many, it is still something that inhibits people instead of setting them free.

Daylight is just as scary as the night if you want the honest truth. Being able to see what’s coming isn’t much better than not being able to see. At least at night there’s a good chance you can disappear as well as the things that might stalk you. In the daylight, there’s little cover to be found.

Fear of the dark isn’t bound to the shadows, it’s due to what lies behind them. Once you stop worrying about what’s not there the darkness becomes just another night. It sounds easy of course, but making that link between rational thought and peace of mind is kind of difficult. But it’s worth it.

The Power of Words

“The only limits of words are the meaning which is affixed to them.”

-Anonymous

 

Think about that for a moment. Whether spoken, written, or typed, words have a great deal of power that is given to them by the speaker, or the writer. The belief that is packed into each syllable is palpable in many cases, powerful beyond measure if it is strong enough, and hollow and empty if they come by rote from another source. The power of the words we use isn’t bound up in the word itself, but in the belief we bring to bear when using them. Words are utterances, symbols, nothing more than another form of expression that is used to communicate feeling, meaning, and purpose between individuals, but the power they carry when an individual charges them is very real.

This is why we must take care with our words and how we use them. Too many people throw words into the ether to be used as little more than an inane mantra that carries little to no meaning but is meant to act as a shield against a world they refuse to fully understand. The guise of such words is often to hide the ignorance that lies behind them, though in truth it denotes the lack of wisdom through a stubborn form of arrogance that their words are those that carry any hint of power. In essence, those that chant their words in a repetitive manner are throwing up verbal smoke bombs to prevent their detractors from seeing behind the guise they weave, thereby denying them the idea that they have little to any clue as to what they’re saying or why.

Words do have power, but this power isn’t bound in the words themselves, but the convictions that are allowed to infuse every syllable and consonant as they spill from our lips or make their way onto the page. The power we possess in the form of communication is both vast and very underrated, but is also taken for granted by far too many that claim to believe in the freedom such power brings, while seeking to deny it to others.

If you can understand the inherent power that words bring, then you can appreciate why using them wisely is a habit of the virtuous, while spewing them forth in a tirade is the practice of the foolish.

Forever Finite (part III)

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May 23rd, 2019

Sunset Key, Florida

His family wouldn’t find him here, they hardly ever came out to this part of the island since it was considered too dangerous at high tide. But he knew how to navigate the coastline and had done it more than once even after his mother and father had told him not too. Sunset had come only a few minutes ago, and he knew very well that his father was likely out combing the island for him by now. There was usually no worry that he would come back, they knew that he couldn’t swim all the way back to the mainland and they also knew that he would calm down eventually.

But not this time.

This time he was fired up in a way that he couldn’t explain. Something had happened when his mother had demanded that he stay away from the gate, but he couldn’t explain it. The underwater ring was something that their whole family knew about, it wasn’t much of a secret really, but it was also something that a lot of those that lived on the island didn’t bother talking about for their own reasons. For his mother it was because she’d lost someone down there.

Her father had perished near the ring, though to this day no one knew how, or why. He had simply never come up the last time he’d gone down, though their grandmother, before she’d passed away, had told them all that he had changed somehow, becoming distant and even different in the weeks before his ‘accident’. No one had ever been able to believe that it had been an accidental drowning since his grandfather had been a strong swimmer and just as knowledgeable as anyone about the island and how to navigate the tides.

He perked up slightly as he could just barely hear his father’s voice over the lapping of the waves as they met the shoreline. The ring was just a little ways out and down, near the base of the island. He knew it was ridiculous but he could have sworn that he felt it pulling at him somehow, especially given that he knew right where it was. As his father called again though his voice seemed to grow distant, and something else seemed to call to him, forcing him to blink as he rose from his place of seclusion near an embankment that led down to the shore and into the crystal clear waters.

Before he knew what he was doing he was on his feet, and in the next few seconds he was in the water, moving forward without hesitation.

(to be continued)

What is Equality?

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This should be a pretty cut and dried explanation, it’s about giving people equal opportunity, equal pay, equal treatment, and that’s that. Right? Somewhere along the line though that point got lost, and it’s been havoc ever since. Equality hasn’t been equal for a long time, there’s no mystery there. People have been treated differently because of their gender, their race, and even their beliefs for longer than the US has been a nation. But now that we’re in a position to start treating people equally it almost seems as those that are shouting for equality want a little something more.

Why?

If you belong to a generation that was oppressed and were in fact openly oppressed at any point in your life then you might be owed some form of reparation from those that wronged you. But if you were born with the freedom and the ability to pull yourself up and do what you can to make your life better, then no one owes you anything. If you’re raised in a poor family that’s not your fault, but it’s also not the fault of a child that’s raised with money. No one has the right to more than what they earn, no matter their background. We want equality? Well to be honest, it doesn’t come from taking what you didn’t earn, and it certainly doesn’t come from demanding extra from others that have more than you.

You want it? Go earn it.

It’s true, a lot of people are living from paycheck to paycheck and sometimes not even that. People are in debt because they’re living well beyond their means, they’re destitute because they can’t find a job, they don’t have the education, they have too many kids to look after, so on and so forth. Harsh and uncaring as it sounds, that’s no one else’s problem but yours. You’re right, that sounds like someone that would keep a person on the street unless they want to earn their way off of it. It sounds like someone that would look upon others that have nothing and say “too bad”.

You made your choices, and you have choices yet to make. No one is holding you down. The victim card is one of the more pathetic and despicable acts to employ when trying to get ahead, as the truth is that if you want a better life, you have only to try for it and do whatever is necessary to get it.

It’s not easy? People don’t just give it to you? That’s life. You aren’t owed a single thing in this life. The idea of being told that anyone owes anyone anything is laughable, as in the modern era, the only thing that is ever owed is what a person earns. Equality comes from what is done to earn the life you want, what is sacrificed in order to gain that life, and what you’re willing to do in order to maintain it.

So what are you willing to do? Are you willing to work? Are you willing to earn? If not, then your arguments about equality are invalid.

Privilege Goggles

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So many people love to throw around the word privilege these days as though it’s a condemnation, a justification, and of course, an explanation of why they’re not ahead and someone else is. And if you’re born white and male then you’ve already got two strikes against you since you’ve got the white and male privilege both going for you. But guess what?

Privilege doesn’t mean a damn thing.

Tell a white man living on the street he’s privileged, that he’ll get an advanced place in the soup line over a homeless person of a different color, tell him that he has access to better trash cans because he was born with a lighter skin tone. Does it sound ridiculous yet? Okay, let’s move on.

Let’s move to the working class, those of us that actually bust our butts and bend our backs for the profit of others. Not only is it illegal for someone to pay another person less or more based on their skin tone, but it’s not bound to happen in a great number of areas no matter how many statistics you throw at the problem. Why?

Because no one owes you a damn thing in this life. Get that mentality out of your head. The only privilege that any of us have when we’re born is the air we breathe and the life we cling to. From that point on it becomes a matter of what we’re given and what we do with it. Some folks are given everything as they grow up, and believe it or not, more of those folks are of different races than JUST WHITE and some of the AREN’T MALE. Shocking, isn’t it?

You want to earn more money? Work longer hours. You want to make more per hour? Go to school, be it a university or a trade school, it doesn’t matter. Decide on a course for your life rather than complain about what you don’t have and can’t get because you’re a different color or race. The more energy you waste complaining, the less you have to find a job that you believe will treat you right. If you need it, find a pen, a bus schedule if you don’t have a car, and an area map so you can make your way up and down the nearest avenue applying for every job you can find. That’s privilege, that’s opportunity, and that’s what many people seem to be missing.

Privilege ends the moment you step out on your own. You want to survive? You want to thrive? The streets don’t care what color you are, they’ll be there if you don’t want to put in the work. Do the work, stop making excuses, and realize the truth: this world doesn’t care if you’re black, white, Asian, or any other color or race. It will break your privilege into pieces and leave you with nothing if you aren’t willing to stand up and do the work. Privileged, that’s almost funny.

A Cold Heart is Not a Dead Heart

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Broken and beaten and stomped into dust

What’s taken out rarely is left to rust.

Covered in ice, frozen rime and decay

Waiting for someone that cares to come along and say

“You matter, you’re worth it, your place is assured,

You once cared for others this cold is absurd.”

Not knowing they wonder and ponder the chill

Not seeing or caring but demanding more still.

They cajole and they promise they plead and they cry

Yet never once will they seek the reason why

Their reasoning is sound and their voices are loud

They think themselves saints as they speak to the crowd.

But their backs are to me as they ask for my heart

They demand that I stand up, I care, and that I do my part.

Not once do they notice, not once do they see,

The cold of my heart does not define me.

My heart is not hardened or chilled by the live that I live.

I choose when to use it, and when I will give.

If you find frost on my heart, be warned sure and fair.

There is warmth if you seek it, should you but dare.

-the warmth of a person’s heart is not to be expected to extend to everyone on a whim. It is their choice who to embrace, and who to keep at a distance.

The Mob Mentality

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You’re not ‘woke’ if you follow the crowd but can’t explain why. You’re not enlightened if you ascribe to the mob mentality without being able to give a good reason for it, and you’re certainly not a confident, free-thinking person if you feel the need to join with others that promote something you didn’t think was that important before you signed up. The mob mentality is a common condition that anyone that is afraid to speak their mind will side with because it gives them what they perceive as safety in numbers, when all it tends to do is turn them into mindless thugs that can spew what they think are facts and unfortunately are worthless tidbits based on emotional reactions to something they choose not to understand.

It’s true the individual speaker has less protection around them and is an easier target, but it’s also true that they have more heart and are far braver than any that dare to lay claim to bravery when they’re surrounded by dozens if not more of those that claim to follow their beliefs. Bravery is standing alone with your ideals when need be, and to stand up and be recognized for having those ideals. It’s not hiding your face, nor is it banding together to promote exactly what it is you’re fighting for.

The mob always wins because the virus that creates it erases the free thought and even the morality of those that succumb to the illness to the point that they refuse to recognize those they rail against as human beings. In this case the mob is essentially a band of spineless, gutless wonders that fold the moment someone tougher than they are comes along. The mob folds when someone with greater convictions that can back them up stands up and says ‘enough’. The mob tends to care nothing for those that are caught in the middle of their self-righteous machinations, steamrolling anyone and everyone in their path without a thought to the damage they’re doing, all in the name of ‘freedom’.

But the mob has one major flaw, and it’s that they believe that they have power and strength in numbers. Their greatest weakness is what they perceive as their greatest strength.

The mob mentality is an illness that far too many people ascribe to, and one that is the exact opposite of being ‘woke’.

Call of the Antifa

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Antifa: Cops are tools of the fascist regime! Pigs! You’re tools of a tyrant!

Antifa members get attacked: Do your job! Arrest those people, they assaulted us! They knocked our hoods off, they grabbed our flags, they’re on our side of the street! They pushed past us trying to get into a public place! Arrest them!

The rest of us: Protect yourselves, you obviously don’t trust the cops.

Anyone else feel this way? Antifa members love to show up, cause trouble, and then instigate just enough until something boils over and they push the wrong person. They’re brave when they wear their masks, they’re seemingly indestructible and untouchable when they have numbers, and yet they’ll cry like babies when someone so much as touches them, despite the documented fact that many of them come prepared for violence against others when they show up.

They scream about fascism and not being allowed a voice in America without realizing that they have the right to do just this. Yet they’ll deny honest and logical discourse with anyone that doesn’t share their ideals. They’ll call for the impeachment of the president, they’ll call anyone that doesn’t believe in their ‘movement’ a racist, a bigot, and treat them like the scum of the earth for daring to speak up in any way that’s not in line with their beliefs. Gosh that sounds familiar.

Why are Antifa cowards? It’s easy to misbehave when no one can ID you. It’s simple when you hide behind a mask, dark glasses, and are difficult to distinguish from those standing next to you. Sure, not all of them wear masks, and those are the the ones that have at least a smidgen of courage to them, until you realize they never go anywhere without at least a dozen fellow supporters for backup. Antifa is peaceful? That’s like saying a jackal is just taking a stroll when they happen to see a fresh kill.

The other groups that oppose them aren’t much better, but the one thing they don’t do on a regular basis is cause a fight, a riot, or even block traffic so that people that have no involvement in their cause can move around unimpeded. Antifa members don’t seem to care, they’ll gladly get hit in an attempt to claim vehicular assault. In other words, they’re mask-wearing, narrow-chested thumping pansies that have already become what they think they’re fighting against.

Yes, I said it.

Forever Finite (part II)

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May 23rd, 2019

Sunset Key, Florida

“You stay away from it,” she said in a low and ominous voice, “You hear me?”

He hadn’t expected this, and obviously neither had Silvie as she turned to look at their mother. But she could offer him nothing in the way of an explanation as their mother put down the only item she’d been holding, a small sack filled with what looked like fruit. She’d likely been down the street to the Allen’s, who were well-known on the island for having a thriving back yard filled with fruit trees. They tended to share bushels of fruit every season with anyone that wanted some, and their mother was always making something with what they gave her.

Setting the bag down on the nearby kitchen counter she then took another step and grabbed his right forearm in a strong, unyielding grip as she made him face her again.

“Don’t ever go back to that spot, do you hear me?”

“Mom, what are-?”

“Promise me!” she almost yelled at him, “Do not go back there!”

He didn’t know why but he was yanking his arm out of her grasp in the next second, feeling more angry than confused and for some odd reason thinking that she had no right to ask anything of him. He didn’t know where the feeling came from and he didn’t care, his mother had no right to touch him in such a manner or, or…

The feeling was suddenly just, gone. Instead of angry and ready to fire back he just felt, empty, and somewhat guilty as he saw the look on their mother’s face. She was crying openly, her mouth agape as though she’d seen something terrible. Silvie simply looked confused, her eyes tracking from one of them to the other as she was trying to figure out just what had happened.

“Promise me,” their mother almost whined, “Please.”

“No,” he said, turning on his heel to leave.

It would be the last time she ever saw him.

(to be continued)

You Might Not Like It, But I’m Saying It

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America is under constant attack from within its own borders, so honestly enemies of this country can sit back and watch us tear ourselves down. Don’t agree? Wade into downtown Portland or many other cities from time to time and you might find yourself embroiled in what Antifa would label a call to arms or the need to stand against fascism and you might quickly change your mind. There are many problems with this group and those groups against which they stand, and one among them is that they affect people that don’t care a whit about their causes as they’re simply trying to get to and from work each day and must, for some reason, deal with those whose ideological issues seem to spill forth onto the streets and sidewalks, engulfing them in a storm of rhetoric and hatred that threatens the very way of life that some among each group claim to want to preserve.

Yes, some of these groups have some seriously flawed ideals and don’t represent many people. Yes, there are Trump supporters that would gladly clock an Antifa member just for the privilege. Unfortunately they’re rather justified in doing so since all too often Antifa comes prepared to fight, ready to throw down, and ready to silence those that are going to exercise their free right to speak.

Wait, wouldn’t that be fascism?

Wouldn’t it be fascist to deny someone the right that their country affords them when it comes to speaking their mind and making their thoughts known to the public? If you said yes it would and are still claiming Antifa then you might need a swift kick in the ass or a serious dose of reality.

While many of these groups are a bad joke Antifa is the worst of them all at this time since they practice what they fight against, thereby labeling themselves as one of the most hypocritical groups to ever exist. They bar people from walking through public places, they make assumptions about people if said people don’t ascribe to their beliefs, they try to shut people down when they decide to talk, they deny others their free speech yet will clamber to have their time to speak, they belittle and berate police officers but will cry the loudest for protection when they’re attacked, and best of all, they will act as victims when they come ready to instigate a fight.

In other words, they’re the bullies that start to cry when someone finally stands up to them.