Choices

  It has been a minute since I've written here. Life gets away from us sometimes. Whether we want it to or not.

Choice is a funny thing. A thing that has always been an important part of my life. You grow, you learn, and you choose what you want to learn next.

This can result on you pulling away. Turning your back to people. And it feels necessary. Because, deep down, you know it is.

At that point, for your reasons, you make a choice.

So choice is important. I know it's important. It has defined me. For better or worse, it is me. 

So I can't think on choices... not too much. I'm bipolar and I have BPD. I survive thanks to choices. It is selfish. Sometimes. It feels selfish to others. Often times. And through our scope, our eyes and our experiences it is necessary. It has to be.

Otherwise... what's the alternative?

Self hatred? Regret? Displaced anger? Poorly directed actions?

We choose, in our lives, in this moment... our moments. We choose to make decisions, every day. And we have to abide by them and understand the why's.

The alternative? From where I am? At this moment?

A failure to accept the validity of choices. Of how it served you. Why you needed it. What it gave you.

And what you learned.

This is my first post, here, in years. For a reason. For my choices and my reasons.

I'm a writer. I write. I choose what to write. I agonize over it from every angle.

That is who I am.

So. Are you still with me?

Great! This will be a long entry. It's 2023 so... obviously... an update in an old journal is quite required.

I have learned a lot. The greatest of which was how the politics of the landscape in 2016-2020 were changing me. I was negative to all. I wanted to shake people awake. As if they were asleep and in a nightmare, plagued by the world around them that they saw was a dream.

I wasn't going to succeed. How could I? And if I could, how would everyone feel about being roused from a peaceful sleep early?

I mean... I know that I am pretty fucking cranky first thing in the morning. I assume that was the motivation from me and the response from all.

See, I forgot something in the political miasma and chaos that I felt during that time. It all comes down to choice.

People made theirs, I made mine. We couldn't will each other to listen. Or beg. Or hope or want or need or desire it.

We're free to make our choices. And honestly? We should be.

My feelings needed to exist. I needed to hear and be heard. Shouting and despair and resentment... this didn't serve me.

I changed. In a negative way. And when I slept, I had nightmares I couldn't wake up from.

When you see a nightmare when you're awake and you can't stop one while you're asleep, the issue resides in you. More in you, anyway.

So I took a step. I had to. As if I was a Buddhist monk. I needed solitude. Peace and reflection to be alone with my thoughts and survive my own chaotic nightmares.

I deleted Facebook. Twitter. I stopped writing. I stopped creating. I lived in a self imposed exile. I turned to a person I could trust. In reality, the only one I truly could.

Oddly enough, that person was me.

Events transpired around me. I withdrew.

Vitriol shook the world. I withdrew.

The political landscape changed. The President changed. The posts changed, the news changed. In fact, even the articles, memes and even we, as a society, changed...

And I withdrew.

My katana was rusting. My armor was in the attic, collecting dust. The mask of a Samurai, of which I liken my exile to, was off and forgotten in the room over my head.

I couldn't see it. And then peace was all I was left with.

I gave myself permission to be at peace. To rest, to sleep, and escape my nightmares.

It was useful for me. Very useful. And as a choice, and a person who has to reside in a moment, I selfishly cast aside all else until I could... heal.

The process was slow. I imagine tortoises moving faster.

But I got there. I'm here today.

I'm also writing again.

Catharsis is an amazing thing. I never regret my past. Never. In a high or low... catatonic or withdrawn. In a hospital or over medicated. No matter what, I cannot regret my mistakes.

That is also a choice.

My son was born because of choice. Different choices? Perceived by others? Well... that cannot fall on me. My son was born. I am grateful. I love that he was born. Why would I risk not having that?

Choices. They define me.

I chose to leave the Air Force. My disorder pushed me in that direction. My past was my reasoning. I resented and regretted the things and people who got me to that moment, who I saw as failing me, because I know they did. I know they did. They know they did. We all made our choices. I left boot camp. I mentally chose against a career in Air Force Intelligence, which directly sacrificed my wish of becoming a DOO for the CIA.

Those were my choices. The parts that weren't, obviously, were not. I didn't choose to be bipolar or to have BPD. But I did. I have those. They are there. Nothing will take those away.

I have lost friends and girlfriends. Rightfully so. I am, without sympathy, a mess. I am broken and was broken. It was not up to anyone, least of all them, to pick up the pieces. I couldn't even see the pieces. I couldn't even buy the glue. I didn't know whether I was a vase or a bowl... or some other random thing which could break... like a glass or ceramic inanimate thing. I was a person. Not a doctor. Just a broken person.

People chose to step away. They should have.

I'm glad they did.

I am almost 37. Less than 9 days away, in fact. Should I regret all my years now?

I'm choosing not to. Otherwise... what was it all for?

I must move on... but I still need to continue this post. It just needs to be in a different direction.

A year ago, a med change started. It ended up being too much. Too fast. My choice felt as if... it wasn't mine. I had a choice... but with my 36 year old mind I couldn't overcome my way of surviving those 36 years. I was easy to convince. I trusted all others implicitly. I ignored myself entirely. Which included the benefits a med change could have on me.

So here is today. You are caught up. I am like a pen that is running out of ink.

I am moving backwards, to a manageable dose. I see why things went wrong. I know why I chose to ignore it. Why I felt unheard and why I was mad no one heard me speak.

I also respect the intentions. My quality of life was sustainable. But not great. Never great.

But now, at least, I know it can be. It can be better. I'll be able to write and finish my book. I'll be able to overcome my exile and step back into the world. To say hello to those I left behind.

In the end, I never choose to be selfish. I just need to be sometimes.

This is why choices are important.

Because whether they are mine or yours...

We wouldn't be who we are today without them.

Following My Dreams: Who I Am Today

In the last two years I've written for Pitch, Funny or Die, and several others. I've written advertisements for Facebook. I've written and published articles on mental health websites. I've had businesses use my stuff for tweets. I've sold memes. I've even had a few things go viral.

It took me a long time to get here. To believe in myself. As a writer and more. To contribute to the world in a meaningful way.

And trust me, that wasn't always easy. A lot of people said I needed to stop and contribute in what they called "actual ways."

But what is actual? Who determines what isn't?

To me, being a writer is actual. I'll never let myself forget that.

Listen. If you have a dream... Be it a writer, an artist, a comedian, a musician, a producer, an actor... Whatever. Do NOT let anyone convince you that it isn't a contribution. That it isn't meaningful.

Follow your fucking dreams.

I'm glad I did.

Your God in All Schools

*sighs* Ok.

This nation was founded on several beliefs.  One of them was the separation of Church and State.

Why is having a secular nation so important?

Well, for a few reasons.

First, not everyone believes in God.  Those that do?  They don't believe in other people's Gods.  Nor should they have to.  You're free to believe or not believe anything you want.  Free of judgment and free of persecution.  While some forget this and some try to insist their beliefs upon others, it's important to note our nation was founded by those escaping religious persecution.  There was a time where your refusal to follow the Catholic religion resulted in torture and death.  Holy wars are an extension of that thinking.  In this, we must recognize the importance in allowing tolerance.

Second, you can't force your way of life on others.  There's actual discomfort that results from forcing people to mirror your thinking.  Imagine someone making you do things their way.  Imagine someone forcing you to pray to Mecca.  Imagine them limiting television to a single government approved channel and forcing you to watch it.  Imagine forced diets, forced hobbies, forced routines.  This is the antithesis to freedom.  The very opposite of what we are as a nation.

Third, it won't be long before every individual is at the mercy of a single mind in a position of power.  His whims, his discrepancies, his opinions will dictate your present and future.  You will have no say.  You cannot express discontent.  You must give acquiescence and promise fealty.  We've seen this throughout history.  It is a terrible way to live.  And it can have serious long lasting consequences.

Personally?  I grew up wanting to believe in God.  This all powerful omnipotent being making sure things went according to some master plan.  There's a comfort in that.  You can find solace in what you don't know.  But I couldn't believe.  Religion has a dark, bloody history.  Scriptures are chosen a la carte.  Some followed, some ignored.  The "Judge not lest ye be judged" is rarely implemented.  The Golden Rule is hardly followed.

I'd love to believe.  But when I think back during those formative years, there's too much evidence that kept me from it.

And that's ok.  I'm allowed not to believe.

My biggest reason for not believing?  There are multiple religions.  There are multiple versions of the same religion.  And all of them fight. 

Guy 1:  "Believe in my God!  Your God is wrong!" 

Guy 2:  "No, your God is wrong!" 

Guy 1:  "You should celebrate on Sunday!" 

Guy 2:  "No, you should celebrate on Wednesday!" 

Guy 3:  "Hey guys, why not celebrate on both days?"

Guy 1 & 2:  "KILL HIM!"

If you believe?  That's awesome.  I think you should.

If you don't believe?  That's awesome.  I think you shouldn't.

However forcing God places?  That's wrong.

Forcing God into schools is wrong.

This narrative of "Lack of God contributes to shootings" is asinine and disrespectful.  God was at the Texas church last year where everyone inside was shot.  His presence can't deter these acts of violence.  His lack of presence doesn't create them.

People have killed for God longer than they've lived peacefully for him.  In the end, it's not about religion.  It's much more complicated than that.

Biological.  Environmental.  Spiritual.  Psychological.  Societal.  There are many contributing factors.

But not any one of them is solely to blame.

So, what do we believe?

Believe that what you want for yourself is what you should want for another.

You want to worship God?  Let others worship theirs.

You want the freedom to believe?  Give others the freedom not to.

In the end, we are a group of individuals fighting for our individual ways of life.

In the end, let's treat others as we wish to be treated.

A Letter to Gun Nuts

Gun nuts?  Can you please stop belittling the voice of the high school students who survived a massacre?

Some are 18.  Some are younger.  But everyone's voice is significant.

Not just the ones that agree with you.

I get it.  You like your guns.  They make cool sounds and look real nice-like on your hip.  Very Doc Holliday.

But these kids went through this shooting.  They lived it.  These kids were literally affected in the most poignant of ways.  And they have every right to their opinions.  They saw the gun.  They heard the gunfire.  They lost friends.  Siblings.  Loved ones.

A guy who survives a fire has every right to talk about fire safety.  You being 30 years older than him doesn't negate his opinion.

You don't like the victims of a crime standing up for themselves?  Fine.

But do you really have to insult them?  Don't they deserve better than that?

Haven't they been through enough?

What Trump Should Write

It is time I addressed the allegations made against me.  It is true that I have sexually harassed women, using my power and fame to justify my unjustifiable behavior.  There is no excuse.  I am not above scrutiny.  I am not untouchable, either by my former station or the position I now hold. 

As the President, I should be held to a higher standard, not a lesser one.  I should not be excused from the national dialogue.  I need to take responsibility for the hurt I've caused.  For the victims, I need to be held accountable.

It is not ok to move on someone.  It's not locker room talk.  It's assault.

We need to defend our nation's daughters.  We should never, ever, ever defend the actions that threaten them.

I am calling for an investigation into each of the alleged assaults against me.  I am doing this to send a message.  To show that no man in this country is too rich, too important, too powerful to get away with sexual harassment.

Not even the President of the United States.

Bullying In High School... And Today

Bullying:  (noun)

1)  acts or written or spoken words intended to intimidate or harass a person or to cause physical harm to a person or his or her property

2)  abuse and mistreatment of someone vulnerable by someone stronger, more powerful

In the locker room, two seniors were getting in my classmate's face. 

"I heard you hit on my girlfriend."

"N-No.  I swear."

"You're calling her a liar?"

"No!  Of course not."

"So you did come onto her."

"No! I didn't say that, please just go away."

"I'm not going anywhere."

I finally finished tying my shoes and approached the Varsity quarterback and his friend...

Before I finish my anecdote, let me say this.

I don't like bullies.  I didn't like them in elementary school.  I didn't like them in middle school.  I didn't like them in high school.

And now, 13 years after graduation, I can tell you...

I don't like them now.

I was never bullied growing up.  But I saw it happen to others.  Far too often.  I've seen it on playgrounds, at parties, and in bars.  I've seen it happen to strangers.  I've seen it happen to loved ones.  Unfortunately, I've even seen people I care about play the titular role.

And ever since I was a little kid, I couldn't keep my mouth shut when I saw it.

In grade school, this meant I was ostracized.  Standing up to the cool kids will do that.

In middle school, this led to physical altercations.  Their pent up anger had to go somewhere.

In high school, you never quite knew for sure how things would go.

So on that day as I approached the three, one thing kept going through my mind.

I'm gonna get killed.

But my legs were already moving and before I knew it I was standing in front of the three of them.

"You're Cecilia's boyfriend, right?" I asked him.

The quarterback looked at me, dumbfounded at this lowly freshman daring to address him.

"Why the hell are you talking about her?"

I shrugged.  "She's in my Spanish class.  We're working on a project together.  She's pretty cool.  Talks about you a lot."  I laughed a bit.

Then he laughed too.

And I spent the next ten minutes telling this guy how much his girlfriend doted on him during class.

At the end of it, we parted ways respectfully.

Did that senior ever bully again?  Probably.  Did that kid ever get picked on again?  I dunno.

But I know that he didn't get picked on that day.

Sometimes, all you need to do... Is say something.

I see a lot of people on social media bullying others.  Some think of it as something brag worthy.  It isn't.

I keep seeing these posts and letters pop up, that call people out by name.  They start insulting these people to a global audience, sharing intimate details.  Teasing them.  Denigrating them.

I can't tell you that one side is more right than the other.  I can't tell you that the grievances aren't legitimate.  I can only tell you that the negative public accosting is wrong.  Really wrong.

Because it's bullying too.  On a really massive scale.

Look at this way.

Let's say we were back in high school again (and it's starting to feel that way sometimes).

David is mad at Deborah.  He tells everyone all the time how terrible she is.  Sometimes it's an insult on her appearance.  Sometimes he just calls her nasty names.  Other times, he gets his friends together, and they all laugh, point, and jeer each time she passes.

But soon, that stops being enough.

So David sits at his laptop and decides to write.  And he writes a paper, filled with defamation, and prints copy after copy.

The next day at school, Deborah wanders the halls to see every student giving her coy looks.  She sees a paper in each of their hands.  Then, she finds two people handing them out to every student.  Deborah snags one and reads David's letter for herself.

And basically the rest plays out like that scene from A Walk To Remember.

That is what's going on.  Right now.  Except we're not in high school anymore. 

This stuff has to stop.

"But they did this one thing and they..."

Doesn't matter.  Block and move on.

"They keep telling everyone..."

The same kind of stuff you say about them?  Two wrongs.

"I'm only defending myself because..."

No.  You're bullying back.  And that's no better. 

If you bully because you were bullied?  You don't stop a bully.  You add one more to the mix:  You.

If you need everyone to know that you're the good guy?

Be the good guy.

We'll see it.  And you won't need to insist that it's true.

Now, am I aware that writing a letter condemning the bullies who wrote letters condemning other people is a bit ironic and hypocritical?

Yes.

But I never could stop my legs from moving towards the bullies and saying something.

Before Sunday

The solidarity of the NFL, in my opinion, while presenting in a manner as Colin started, has evolved.

Colin took a knee to protest societal injustice.  The way minorities are treated under the flag.  When it was only about this, the entire league did not stand (or rather, kneel) together.

Then, while in Alabama, Trump said that players who didn't stand were sons of bitches who should be fired.

Then kneeling during the anthem became about more.  It became about freedom.  To protest, to express, to champion a cause, to use a voice.  To use the rights afforded to all Americans.

Before, players were allowed to stand, kneel, or sit.  And while the team supported those who kneeled, some chose to stand.  Just as those who kneeled supported those who stood.

When our President resorted to vitriol, he personally accosted their teammates.  In essence, he made it clear that if you choose to protest in this manner, you should not only be fired... But you were un-American.

In my opinion, Trump made this political. 

Trump attacked Americans.  And if you attack Americans, we have a way of banding together.  The NFL did this.  And many fans did too.

I am happy to see the league stand up to a President who attempts to enforce his views upon the nation and its people.

But we shouldn't forget why this all started a year ago.  And we shouldn't be afraid to make the changes necessary to make the problem go away... And give everyone, regardless of color, the same sense of pride under the flag that so many of us already feel.

Take the Knee

In 2005 I joined the USAF.  It was my dream.  My family was full of vets and I loved the history of our country.  But above all that, I loved our penchant for freedom.  True freedom.

When I joined, it was with the idea of defending that freedom.  Not just the rights I care about most.  All.

Now, my disorder prevented me from serving.  I can only speak now as an American citizen, not a former vet.

But why do most serve?

Did you fight to defend the rights you agree with?  Or did you fight to defend the rights of all Americans?

Doesn't a vet fight to defend all rights?

This is about more than what we personally enjoy.

Serving, to me, meant I was protecting those back home.  I never did it with the intention to return and demand what freedoms Americans could or could not exercise.

I think many vets feel that way.  Serving was an honor to the country, not a reason to act as though those back home owed me reverence.

You standing or kneeling isn't why I wanted to serve.

I wanted to serve so you'd have the choice between the two.

I respect those who serve and who have served.  You were and are better men than I.

I hate myself for my genetic weakness that prevented me from what was to be a lifetime of service to country and those within.

Still, I would hope those who served would believe as I do... That all freedoms are worth defending.  Not just the ones I personally enjoy.

So.  Please. 

Don't use your service to justify demanding subservience.

Trump's America

I've seen a lot of posts that show people helping during the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey.

But there are some I find a bit distasteful.

The posts I am referencing don't mention ways to volunteer or donate.  No.  They were created and are shared to disparage and blame the media for our current nationwide division.

They all say the same thing.

"This is America helping.  Mexican Americans in boats.  African Americans providing shelter.  The media is lying to you.  They are brainwashing you.  This is Trump's America."

It's an interesting way that some are using the tragedy to bolster Conservative support.

To this point, I merely say...

You are right to say that the nation coming together is America.

But to claim it is Trump's America?

I'm sorry.  But we are not Trump's vision of us.

Alonso Guillen used DACA to stay in this country.  He was able to help in Houston.  He died helping.

And his mother, still in Mexico, was denied a humanitarian visa to bury her son.

And that?  That right there?  Denying a mother the right to bury her child?

That is Trump's America.

And we are better than that.

The Media Scapegoat

"You hate Trump because of the Media!"

"The MSM makes him look bad, but he's not!"

"Our country being divided like this is because of the FAKE NEWS, not the President!"

This is the biggest lie being told today.

There are several ways to refute this.  But I'm going to pick the most obvious to me.

Our media has always reported on politics.  The Republican side will warp the news to fit their narrative.  The Democratic side does the same.

And yet it wasn't until 2017 that modern day politics created this level of division in the nation.

So.  What happened?  Where did the vitriol come from? 

Why are families and friends suddenly resorting to shouting matches?  We haven't always been so disparaging.

Let's revisit the common scapegoats used by Trump supporters.

1)  Hillary Clinton:  This stopped being about Hillary the night of November 10th.  Blaming her 10 months later is pointless and, frankly, pathetic.

2)  President Obama:  The former POTUS is a comparative, but the trespasses of Trump are not explained away by the legacy of Barack.

3)  The MSM:  The media has always been there.  They have always reported on politics.  Fox News had 24 hour coverage of Obama being awful for 8 years.

Honestly, Trump doesn't need the media to make him look bad.  Look at his Twitter, the most unfiltered source of his opinions and state of mind.

Trump doesn't need help looking bad.

He does that all on his own.

There is hardly an objective news outlet available.  So don't blame mine and render yours blameless.  Because I assure you... Yours isn't more right.  It's just as biased.

We tend to allow the old information we agree with over new information we don't.  But why are we so arrogant as to believe we know all there is to know?  As children, we soaked up new information like a sponge.  Today, we only allow that which already fits with preconceived notions.

It is imperative that we allow ourselves more openness. 

If we refuse to entertain the possibility that we might be wrong in a debate...

We don't do anyone a disservice by our obstinance but ourselves.

The best thing we can do is two pronged.

First, we must admit that sometimes in the debate we all stand the same odds of being wrong.

Second, stop the attacks towards family and friends.  Because when Trump leaves office, whether in 3 years or in handcuffs, you can't take back the things you said to the people who matter to you most.

Repose 8/29/17

She's stubborn and grace
Beautiful intelligence
Beyond compare
Grants serenity
With reliable repose
This is her
And it's the reason I love her.

She laughs with charisma devout
An orchestrated grin
Angelic classical voice
Her tone scripted overture
Divine, mortal goddess
This is her
And it's the reason I love her.

When she looks at me
Eyes like emeralds
Gaze laced with amber specks
She achieves
Knotted free ambient space
This is her
And it's the reason I love her.

If I'm her knight
She's my shield
I lean on her for her strength
A resource that needn't be replaced
She's the maiden and the queen
This is her
And it's the reason I love her.

She speaks to me
Heaven sent
Existing between several worlds
Collapsing, expands
Into mine
This is her
And it's the reason I love her.

Wherever I go
I see her, hand placed
Firmly in mine
I take her, she takes her time
But she's there
This is her
And it's the reason I love her.

Aphrodite meets Athena
With a Persephone twist
Janus decides to split
Celestial but with purpose
Physics and rules cease to serve
It's just her
And it's the reason I love her.

In the end, the list of reasons
Defined as limitless
Unheld, unspoiled, unmatched
Are what we are
And what she is
And it's the reason I love her.

M.C.K.

8/29/17

True Love

I've seen love in many forms.  I've seen puppy love.  Infatuation.  First love.  Love at first sight.  Love between soul mates.  Abusive love.  Unhappy love.  False love.  One sided love.  Unrequited love.

And true love.  The kind that you know could last you a lifetime.  The kind you dream about.  The kind you hope for.  The kind that doesn't abate, diminish, or desist.  It has this imperfect perfection.  Where you know every day you'd wake up smiling, just knowing you have it.  You'd fight for it.  Take a chance on it.  Do anything to keep it.  It inspires the artist.  It's the writer's muse.  It presents itself without shame, it is unprejudiced.  It wants what the best friend wants, what the brother and father wants, what the teacher and student wants, what the lover and partner wants.  It changes perspectives and worlds.  It is rare.  It is painful.  Beautiful.  Elation within consequence.  It inspires hope and robs tomorrow of worry.  It grants courage in ways unfathomable and allows serenity in the most chaotic and terrifying of times.  It doesn't judge.  It doesn't quit.  It doesn't expect or request.  It just is.  It's the most powerful thing on Earth.  You are given it at the birth of your children.  But in another soul... It's so hard to find some don't.  True love is a combination of all the other loves you know with none of their pitfalls, weaknesses, or limitations.  It doesn't stop.  Not for a minute.  Not in the worst times.  It flourishes in presence of the two.  In sunlight or darkness.  In love or tribulation.  It has no faults.  It sees no barriers.  It wants nothing but the best for the beholden.  It can weather the storm.  It can conquer the undefeated.  It can't be anything but everything you've always wanted.  It's much more than close to perfect.  Its much more than almost enough.  It's the reason hearts beat.  Minds grow.  Souls join.  Its... everything.

That is true love.  I know this.  I've always known this.

Our Differences Make Us Different

My greatest concern since the last election hasn't been focused on the politics surrounding it.

It has been the way people have treated each other during.

When Obama was President, my Conservative friends told Conservative me that I shouldn't have voted for him.

But it was done with respect.  There were no personal insults.  Nobody let my political choice affect our friendship.

I was surprised to hear friends and family say alarmingly disrespectful things about Obama, but I didn't attack them.  It was their opinion and they had every right to it.

I remember the first time I took notice of politics.  It was 1995.

Since then, I can say that I had never witnessed family and friends denigrate one another due to political differences.

Until now.

I have heard such vitriol this last year.  Directed at me.  At my friends.  My family.  Strangers.

None of it was ok.

And I'll admit, for a time during the election... I was just as quick to debate with overly charged emotional platitudes.

That wasn't ok either.

Last week I got into a debate with a friend.  It was heated.  I tried to speak but was talked over.  I remained calm.  I spoke and clarified my viewpoints.  It ended well.

But it didn't start well.

That's a problem.

I have never let political or religious beliefs define my relationship with people.  I was raised better than that.

I know that differences don't inherently make me right and you wrong.  They just make us different.

I have strong opinions.  But I will never let them justify bullying you for not sharing them.

I will write passionately.  I will express clearly.  I will use my voice in all the ways I can.

But when I look at the friends Ive made, and the family I have, I won't focus on where we differ.

I'll focus on what they mean to me.

No difference can excuse ill behavior.

Because as Evelyn Beatrice Hall once said,

"I do not agree with what you have to say,  but I'll defend to the death your right to say it."

"But Hillary!"

Trump supporters:  "But Hillary!"

No.  Not "But Hillary!"  Stop it.

Hillary is not POTUS.  Hillary is not saying anything as President. 

Trump is.

The "Well Hillary" and "But Hillary" argument is completely inconsequential at this stage.  All it does is excuse Trump from well-deserved blame and accountability.

Imagine if you and another person were gunning for the same job.  Let's call the other person Karen.  Now, Karen is unlikable.  So you get hired instead.  But on Day 1, you are an awful employee.  You are rude, you lie, and you're just plain terrible at the job.  Sometimes you take off to golf during a shift.  You even treat certain customers and coworkers like garbage because they vote different from you.

So your coworkers complain.  The boss asks you to stop.  You tell him "Hey, I'm better than Karen!"

How many days do you think that excuse will fly?

Karen doesn't work there.  You do.

Stop blaming Karen.

"Well, he's better than Hillary" is a flawed and juvenile retort for a number of reasons.  She has never been President, so we can't say for sure.  You can assume.  But assumptions aren't fact.  They're guesses.

The "He did it bad but she would have done it worse" argument is something we wouldn't let children get away with.  So to use it ourselves?  Absolutely absurd.

At this stage, we can only blame one person for what Trump does.

Trump.

Diverting attention is not helping anyone.

Excuses will cripple us.  They ARE crippling us.

Trump does a lot of stuff badly.  In fact, the only thing he can do well are bad things.

He says one thing, does another.

He lies, repeatedly.  Then calls facts lies.

He undermines all news that doesn't paint him in a flattering way.

He is unstable, unhinged, and bullying.  Usually at 140 characters at a time.

What happened to the most revered position in American history?  What is this freak show we're watching?

So.  I say to you.

Drop your Hillary Clinton comparisons.  Stop blinding yourself to reality.  You like Republicans.  You hate Democrats.  We get it.

But a Republican is our President.  A Republican is doing terrifying things, made worse but his gross incompetence. 

The focus should be on who is President and not who isn't.

I don't care about how bad you think Hillary would have done.

I care about how badly Trump is doing.

"Moments"

They say time is a gift
We take it
We use it
Sometimes we waste it
But ultimately the hours we claim
Are little more than the expressed testament
To gild past mistakes and moments
As memory.

They say love is powerful
We find it
We chase it
We desperately hold onto it
But ultimately the ferocity of our resolve
Cannot guarantee the certainty
Of its longevity
Because it comes and goes
Without discrimination.

They say death is inevitable
We fear it
We avoid it
We devote money and energy to abate it
But eventually it comes
In one form or another
And neither time nor love
Can dispel it the day
It finally decides
To take you.

If everything is this fleeting
If nothing can extend the duration
Of our time
Of true love
And before death
Then why do we soldier on
Awaiting meaning to life
And purpose to present
Forgiving mistakes in our past
And hoping for the future?

Because time is wonderful
Even fleeting
Even wasted
We choose how we spend it
And with whom
And if we're really lucky
We find people who make hours
Feel like seconds
And make us wish our seconds with them
Could become hours.

Love
Love is so encompassing
Such painful elation
A bursting interpretation
Of our desires laced with expectations
Our needs lacquered with fulfillment
The power rivals nature and transcends the metaphysical
Apt descriptions are little more than semblance of the actual
Which leaves peace only by recourse
Of giving up expressing what it is
And simply enjoying what it is
And that we have it.

There are then the two releases attributed to death
The moment it happens
And the moment we stop fearing it
Focusing instead on what the opposite gives
Ignoring the arrival of life's absence
Conquering what's life-taking is breathtaking
Freedom follows
Then beauty
Delivering more time and better love
Because when you place your attention on what life has in store
You are fully able to appreciate what's coming
And at that moment, you shape it
Claim it
And that's when you really start living

Death... It isn't the end.  It's eventuality.
Love... It isn't everything.  But it resides there.
Time... It isn't what's past us.  It's now and what lies ahead.

Take breaths
Laugh
Escape pain
Run
Grant yourself forgiveness
Wonder
Make the intangible, tangible

Death won't wait.  Love won't wait.  Time won't wait.

Start today.

M.C.K.
8/8/17

"Our Strength"

I can feel every mile.
The aircraft is moving at phenomenal speeds
Placing distance faster than I can count it
As I go from being an inch
A breath
A touch
To states away.

I can feel every second.
Time is always relative
But time zones are creating
A reality where my clock
And your clock
Are never the same.

I can feel every state passing
Every ion shifting
Every bit of difference
As we go from sharing everything...

Like a zip code
The time
A bed

... To sharing only what we had before.

What we had before...
What were they...

As I get closer to home
And further from you
I'm desperately seeking what we have still to share
The commonalities
No matter the size
Or the significance

I remember.

We both wake up in a rush.
Racing one another
Trying to text the other "Good morning" first
Both of us hoping equally
That we lost.

We both look for the moments in our days
Where work or responsibilities
Open possibilities
To text
Because a text leads to what we really want
A phone call.

Our phone calls
We both get the same feeling there.
Never dread
Never exasperation
Never irritation
But elation.
Your name, number, and photo
A ringtone thats all yours
Tells me Ill be smiling
As a Southern belle
In Southern tones
Tells me:

"Hey baby."

Our conversations.
We both love those, don't we?
My rants
Your work
My teasing
Your giggling
The jokes we try out on each other
The ones we write together
The ones we laugh at together
The percentage that makes it from our call
To a public at 140 characters
Has to be at 1%
So I get to hear jokes that are just for me
And you hear those that are just for you
And I never tire of our 99%

We share so much
Even far apart
That the things we don't share
Aren't really that detrimental
We can get through what we don't have right now.
Because what we do have?
Is more than enough.

You live in the South.
My clock is always 2 hours behind yours
Your bed is bigger than mine
I can't blow at your hair from my grocery store.

But we still have one thing
You and I
And it's something
That distance and time can't touch...

And it's enough...

We have each other.

M.C.K.
7/11/17

The Hillary Email Hypocrisy

If you demonized Hillary about her emails but are now ignoring the severity of Trump sharing classified intel behind closed doors, you need to admit something.

It was never about the action.  You weren't taking some moral high ground.

It was about politics.  The name Clinton.  That's it.

If Trump does something worse (and this was much worse) in the same vein, and you don't care, then you are making it about party. 

That's unreal and honestly?  It's a bit shameful.

We need to admit that the action of mishandling classified information is not partisan specific.  It's bad if you're a Republican or a Democrat.  It's unacceptable whether you are the President or Secretary.  Whether your last name is Trump or Clinton.

Clinton got off easy.  Should she have?  No, not in my opinion.  That being said, Trump is the President of the United States.  This makes his sleight worse.  He fired the man investigating him, then met with the country of said investigation at the White House, behind closed doors, with the Russian media, told our media they couldn't come in, let them take pictures, and shared classified intel.

If Hillary did that?  If Obama did that?  If literally any Democrat did that?

Conservatives would be shouting treason.  So why aren't they?

Because it is, to many of them, an issue of candidate.

And that needs to stop.

Learning to Forgive

I can never forget my mistakes, but I am learning to forgive them.

Everytime I fail to meet my own expectations, I will set two new ones.

If I wrote down all of my successes & failures... the latter would be the longer list.

But my successes?

They were still accomplishments.

I can't devalue what I've done because of all I failed to do.  I can only try harder next time.

This isn't foolishness. 

It's acceptance.

Of course, I have been foolish.

A fact I will not let myself forget.

I will always remember how my weaknesses shaped my reactions.  My actions.  My words.

Even if it hurts to remember them.

But here's the thing.

When I succeeded...  It impacted someone.  It was beneficial.

I brought something positive into the world.

I'll fail again.  But I'll also succeed again.

And while I may not be forgiven for all my mistakes...

Maybe I can take solace in knowing mistakes are not the only thing I'm capable of making.

Her Faults

I saw her faults
But that's not what they were.
They were her quirks,
Her way of coping,
Her inability to trust,
And her disposition
To all the pain
She knew before me
And because of me.

I call them faults
Because she did.
But... That's not what they were.
They were her memories,
Her tragedies,
Her hardships,
And her expectations.

She was not these things.
And these were not faults.
They were a side of her
That was still sensitive.
A reminder of how things were
And more than that
A reminder of how anything
In her life
Could repeat the path
That she had already walked down.

It was her beautiful sadness
It was her perseverance
It was her won experience
It was her terrible strength
And everywhere she saw a possibility
Of just how wrong things could go again
I wanted to show her
How wrong she was
That sometimes life
Finds a way to remind you
To hope again.

She called these faults.
I called these what they were.
They were her marks of courage.
Her memory of times gone right
Before going wrong.
They were her hope before sadness
And her beliefs before painful memories.

These were the furthest thing from her faults.
These were one thing
And only one thing.

These were her.

Mistake the Future

(Chorus 1)
Can you see the reality?
It's my eternity
It's taking over me
I can't deny, take flight,
Suspend my disbelief
It's taking over me
It's taking over me
And then the past repeats.

(Verse 1)
I'm letting go,
I'm taking hold,
Being bold
This narrative is being told
It's hot and cold
It's getting old
And she's the clever,
The first endeavor
The lasting pleasure
That I sever
Freed from the tether
And whatever

She is and can be
I can see
It's in my dreams
It's bursting from the seams
It teems then flees
Because beliefs and needs
They never heed
What I really need
And what I need
Is freedom from the hell
Surrounding me

(Chorus 2)
Can you see the reality?
It's my eternity
It's taking over me
I can't deny, take flight,
Suspend my disbelief
It's taking over me
It's taking over me
And then the past repeats.

(Verse 2)
I've been here before
1,000 times
Or maybe more
I've shown myself to every door
Until Im bruised and sore
This is my fate
But must it be?
The pain in store
Is my fate in my hands
I'm torn
I'm lost, forlorn

Intrepidly I seek
I lose, I creep
I go too deep
Darkness seethes
Encompassing
Then shadows me
Eclipses me
My soul is weak
Suspend my disbelief
I'm tired of the past
When it repeats
And it repeats
It will not cease

(Chorus 3)
The way it happened happens to be
It's my eternity
And God just like before,
It's taking over me
Why do I make mistakes
And feign my disbelief?
It's taking over me
It's taking over me
And then the past repeats.

(Verse 3)
Without a clue
Im losing truth
Then the pain ensues
My heart takes hits, and then it splits,
But hey I'm making do
My memories?
My past with you?
Take them, the old's old news
Because unused
Will grant the peace
We never saw or knew

(Chorus 4)
Will I ever change what I've seen
Change my eternity?
I don't, I can't, I won't
Its taking over me
I must placate,
Replace my disbeliefs
You won't take over me
Without a future
Without me
The past can't repeat
I'm taking over me
I'm taking over me
I end the dream