Friday, March 25, 2011

No One

Kick…
A bottle slides across the street
Smashing against the curb
Pieces flying everywhere
But no one cleans it up

Splash…
A car drives through a puddle
Spraying filthy, disgusting water all over
Soaking everything with its retched grime and stench
But no one gets wet

Bang…
A shot rings out in the dark
A scream of fright ripples through the night
Sending chills through the spines of all that can hear
And no one is dead

Monday, March 14, 2011

The Failure of the Dreamer

I dream at night of what life could be like were I to do all of the things I can do. I dream of many things; great and small. Only, I do not always believe my own dreams because of their fantastic nature. I am the dreamer of dreams but the dreamer must, ultimately, awaken. Should I have the choice, I would not dream such great dreams only to have them snatched away. Instead I would dream of life as I know it and wake to find all of my dreams fulfilled. I no longer want to dream in the clouds while living on the ground. Let me dream of where I am so as not to be teased by all of the possibilities that will remain un-realized. That is to say that I give in to a life of mediocrity. I give in to the dull and boring existence of the dreamless. I give in to the prison of the real.
But... I still dream of a day when I can dream again...

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Who Am I?

It is amazing how difficult it is to answer such a simple question.  How do I begin to search for the answer? Does the search begin with my upbringing, occupation, the music listened to, personal writings or style of dress?  These areas are excellent predictors of how others perceive me, though not necessarily indicative of my perception of self; and it is the perception of self that is most important.  What does that do to the perception of self when these outward projections lead others to believe in an identity that is not who I am?  Can I resist the distortion of this perception and avoid becoming who others think I am?  There are so many questions about me finding out who I am or more accurately, balancing my self perception with the perception others have of me.

I don't think I've ever asked those people closest to me what they think of me beyond the superficial.  Never have I gone as in depth as questioning of my personality, strengths, weaknesses, character, values and morals.  Perhaps this is because I am afraid that the people that should know me the best do not know me at all; though it is more likely that I believe that these people are aware of the true me as they have realized that I have taken pieces of them and made them my own.

What of others?  I have little doubt that most of the people I know, know very little about me.  It is common for people to think very differently of me than I do of myself.  For some, it is difficult to imagine me as an angry, out of control person, that is hell bent on ripping someone's head off.  While others find it extremely difficult to believe that I am the empathic, caring and sensitive person that it takes to be a therapist.  Still others find it incomprehensible that I can be both at the same time.

I guess that these significantly different perceptions are truly of my own doing.  I learned, long ago, that a person in my position has to change his appearance, style of speech, and behaviors in order to gain an advantage.  I have learned that the persona that is needed to survive in Brooklyn will prohibit success in professional environments.  I have learned to take an evaluation of my current situation and act accordingly.  I'm not sure if this is something that others do, but it seems to be much more pronounced for me.  I become different people entirely...

Perhaps this is the genesis of my identity crisis.  The feeling that the true me is never adequate for the situation; save for those wonderful moments when I can spend time with those closest to me.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Submission of Will

He who submits his will also forfeits his right to complain about his current situation.  This individual has been truly defeated.  Martin Seligman introduced the concept of learned helplessness which suggests that organisms work tirelessly to escape or change an unpleasant situation until all options are exhausted.  At this point, the organism will no longer attempt to make a change.  In his famous experiment he used dogs and placed them in cages where the floor of the cage was electrified and consistently shocked these animals.  In the early stages of the experiment the dogs would jump, yelp, scratch, claw, and bite in order to get out of these boxes.  Some dogs fought longer than others, but, in the end, all of the animals stopped fighting or making any noises.  They simply lied down and submitted to the punishment.


This concept is not singularly applicable to dogs.  Instead, we see this with humans everyday.  It is a falsity to believe that every human being on this planet has all of the same opportunities as any other.  It is also a falsity to believe that all humans must submit to an unpleasant environment.  Even in the most bleak of circumstances we have choices; though some may seem more unpleasant than our original predicament.  Like the dog in Seligman's experiment we humans can learn to be helpless and allow others to control our lives.  But, like other learned behaviors, we must take it upon ourselves to understand that we are making a choice to fight no longer.  We are making a choice to no longer search for opportunities to escape.  We are making a choice to lie down and be shocked without so much as a whimper.

Along with the understanding that we have chosen to no longer look for options comes the realization that we had one more option; to keep fighting.  To keep scratching, clawing, biting, yelping until things change.  We gain the realization that we have the ability to change our circumstances, even in the slightest way.  We no longer believe that we are helpless.  We begin to complain and yell and scream.  We begin to research methods of change.  We begin to take action.  This is the greatest human strength.

Not Your Nigger


I stood up in front of them
My hands sweating
My brow beading
Wondering what I was going to say

I stood up in front of them
Feeling my heart racing
Hearing my pulse loudly in my ears
Forcing myself not to scream

I stood up in front of them
Unable to feel my feet on the floor
My shoulders are burdened
My eyes blurry from the fury inside

I stood up in front of them
I yelled and I screamed
I stamped my feet
I told them what it was they needed to know

I stood up in front of them
A group so different from me
A group that had no idea
A group that thought they knew me

I stood up in front of them
I explained why I was different
I told them what they didn’t want to believe
I told them
… I am NOT your nigger…