There is this seething, roiling rage rising
to the surface… threatening to consume.
There’s this paranoia so harrowing
playing off the little fears. Stop. Resume.
There is this disconnect, so maddening
with its dissonance and tenacity…
There’s a din that’s drowning out everything,
overwhelming in its intensity.
I want to rage, I want to disappear…
These emotions can bring forth old aspects.
Should I withdraw from the world once again
and become forgotten like the lost gods of long ago?
This sadness eats away at me…
This silence unsettles the mind.
Should I turn my back on the world and fade
like a memory losing its clarity?
So here’s the thing… I haven’t slept, partly due to being on the phone for the past couple hours…
However, that is not the sole reason why I have not slept. My mind is, what some would say, very active…. So sleep can be rather scarce at times.
For instance, certain terms in use today can occupy my thoughts… Terms such as “overthink.” This term makes no sense. It seems fallacious to me.
I want to make a motion to strike the term “overthink” (and conjugations thereof) from regular use and replace it with the term “overanalyze” which can lead to “analysis paralysis.” Hence, I feel it would be more appropriate. Without resorting to colloquialisms, how, precisely, can one “overthink”? Are we not always thinking on topics that hold our attention throughout the day and mentally flit between them and the new ones that crop up as we go about our daily and nightly routines?
…and here I am.
On that precipice with the jagged rocks
which cuts into the soul with each movement,
stepping into my crucible.
I feel I should explain what I mean when I say that I have a dislike of isms (as well as “ists”); as well as clarify what specific isms to which I am referring.
So, I will begin with sexism…
The notion that one sex is inherently superior/inferior than the other in many fields (such as math) is preposterous.
This view is one acquired through conditioning; in psychological terms, it is nurture as opposed to nature. This view inhibits societal growth. This view tends to lead to misogyny and misandry. Feeding into a cycle of behavior which damages others in more ways than physical.
I am an advocate for equality between genders and the sexes. Based off my views, I would be considered a feminist. But even that term, I feel, is one that is dated. Not because I am a male who is a feminist, rather because the term itself. I feel that the term feeds, in some ways, into (or is limited in how it diminishes) sexism. Partly, due to word associations, as well as the memories of behaviors of extremists of certain movements (as is the case with many isms). To clarify- I am of the opinion that people tend to make poor associations and are prone to logical fallacies. Just because the word feminism has “fem” in it, there is a strong likelihood that people will likely come up with inaccurate, and potentially negative, associations. Those ideas may be of their own volition, or impressed upon them by others.
Personally, I would prefer another term… Perhaps one that is more gender-neutral.
Leonard Nimoy…
Although I wasn’t surprised, a part of me was still taken aback when I heard he died today at ’83’…
This man was a legend.
He was the coolest…
He was an inspiration to many. He had such a huge impact upon the science fiction community.
He was THE Spock…. Both the man and the character has shaped many aspects of science fiction in many mediums (books, film, television, and otherwise). Hell, he even shaped the character of Spock, he was responsible for coming up with the “Vulcan Nerve Pinch” (amongst a few other Vulcan-esque things). The man appeared in many films and television shows (i.e. – Fringe) that I had watched and enjoyed throughout various stages and points of my life. This is a person who has been an inspiration and captured my imagination for as long as I could remember.
How many children who grew up watching Star Trek tried to use the Vulcan nerve pinch upon one another?
How many of us remember the iconic image of Spock quirking a single eyebrow?
-and how many of us have come to do the same?
When I say that I am saddened at his passing, I think a part of it comes from the fact that there will not be anymore future works for me to enjoy. Please don’t think me callous, my condolences to his family. I do know that his health has been on the decline for a while, and he was hospitalized last week.
I am more interested in celebrating this man’s life and accomplishments.
This man was AMAZING. I just found out that he was a sergeant in the United States Army. He was not only an actor who played perhaps one of the most Iconic-Science-Fiction-Characters-of-All-Time… He was also a writer, a poet, a director, a songwriter, a teacher… I mean the list goes on.
Leonard Nimoy has had such an influence and has been a source of inspiration for many. After reading more about his life, one may find him to be even more inspirational.
In the darkness, where the gloom resides,
thoughts, unbidden and unchallenged,
begin to rise.
Cast aside, on the fringe,
forgotten by a world moving on,
a harrowing heralds a storm.
At that precipice, that crucial crucible,
where mettle is tested,
an uneasiness threatens to take hold.
Take a step forward and let the day begin.
Another night gone by
Another day arrives
Another blurring of
the border between the two
into a stream of consciousness…
A gentle rap-tap-tapping at his door drew him from his slumber. Lifting his head, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he sits up. A persistent metered knocking resumes. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he espies a cigarette. Closing a book, he snatches up the cigarette as he removes himself from the desk.
Ambling down the hallway, his first thought is to shout, “Go away!”
Nearing the door, he fumbles with his lighter. Clearing away the fog in his mind, he ponders the time. Reaching the door and just to spite the rap-tap-tapping, he takes a moment to light his cigarette before opening.
Sighing, he takes another drag. His eyes drop to the lit cigarette in his hand, noting the burning ember. He then redirects his gaze to her. Slowly he begins to shake his head as he exhales the smoke through his nose.
“It’s been too long, cher…” he reaches for the tumbler on the stand by the door and looks with disappointment at its emptiness.
“I know… I wouldn’t be here if it could be helped.”
Looking back at her, he quirks a brow, “Is dat so, ti corbeau?” with a resigned look, he languidly turns from the door and begins to make his way to the kitchen, “C’mon in.”
She fidgets, hesitating a moment before crossing the threshold. She takes note of the state of the place as she hears him sifting through the pantry. She moves to the couch with his patchwork jacket draped over the back. Picking up a book from the coffee table, she slides down onto the couch.
“Still drink coffee, you?” he calls to her from the kitchen.
“Of course, not THAT much has changed.” She looks down at the book and notes its age as she traces her fingers along its spine. There is strange iconography adorning the cover. Obscure symbols that hit upon a subconscious recognition. “Where did you find this?” she muses as she begins to open the book. She examines the book, trying to identify the alien language. She notices the letters seemingly appear to vibrate. Perhaps it was a trick of her eyes.
“What have you dere?” his voice alarms her. She immediately slams shut the book and sets it back where she found it.
“Oh… nothing,” she takes a moment to clear her mind, “just being nosy.”
“Ha!” He joins her in the room, sitting on the chair, “Mais, jes don’t be nosy ‘round dat book, you.” He gestures at the book, “No good’ll come from even touching it.” He leans back in the chair, takes a long drag from the cigarette, “So…” he lets the word linger a moment, he can feel an angry energy rising within, he takes another drag to stifle it.
“First I want to apologize-“
“Oh dis’ll be good-” his reply came on the heels of her words.
“I’ve let you down-“
“Dat don’t even begin t’cover it.”
“Look-” her eyes narrow.
“I am” he smirks.
“The last time you saw me was a really shitty situation and-”
“You abandoned me!” he said, perhaps a little too angrily. He quickly collects himself and sighs, “When I needed you most-”
“Oh c’mon…” she leans forward, “you never needed anybody!”
“Says you-“
“Says everyone else.” she reaches towards him and snatches the cigarette from his hand and takes a drag before returning it to him, “I have a question though-“
“Shoot” he takes a drag.
“Why did you keep things from us?”