Kick Drop: The Way The Big Wheel Spins.
by
Mark William Darus
I have so little idea how some things, life occurrences, happen as they do.
I haven't a clue how the big wheel spins, churning fiercely, stirring things up within me to create and place myself into uncharted waters. Finding berth in lands anew and vastly different than I've known before.
If I have learned one thing in the last two years it has been to ALWAYS follow my hunches, to trust my inner voice which I believe comes my higher power, and never doubt anything heading my way. Find beauty in the run of the mill and ugliness in things seldom looked at by the average passerby walking thru life that never give themseselves enough to meet the eyes of those they purchase Starbucks coffee or cigarettes from much the time to view the moon, sniff the rose or think about their here-and-now.
With photography I usually find both, where as my writing almost always ventures down the avenues of psychological nightmares to utter despair of those experiencing it.
I never asked for the creativity I have or the roads my passions would lead me down. I did not ask for the gifts that have been granted me in this life while travelling the brick, dirt and asphalt byways, to find the wondrous encountered or the impacts and impressions they would leave on me.
The stories those would share with me as I shared mine with them as plainly and simply as ordering a McDouble from a McDonalds drive-thru to those that screamed and yelled their truths to me while smashing random objects and crying hysterically in the Skype and telephone background. From Hail-Mary Email passes I was sent to face to face visits in motels, dimly lit back alleys, vibrantly lit Steak and Shakes: They'd give me what they had to share, never asking for anything but an even shake in my thoughts and words. For me to throw their lives encounters out there to be seen, read, perhaps judged by others as cautionary tales and learning tools.
Funny how I got this both from the predators and prey alike.
I have done my best to give both equal playing ground on Psychopathy Another Life.
In the closing of this last year what have I learned?
I went from a 187 LBS to a low of 148 leveling off at 153 LBS. Going from a 34 inch waist to 29 (s0mething I haven't known in over two and half decades.) and seeing the value of this and joining a 24 hour Gym to work out and on the muscles I am getting paid to develop. NICE!!!
We can live without much normal sustaining factors with the help of friends and those caring as they give us privilege. Internet access via codes from their wifi's, power to recharge my camera batts, to simply them being there for me via voicemails and gifts of Safe Harbours for either a place to crash as temps go into the negatives or merely have a shower or serene bath in peace.
To those that offered, I cannot say enough about them. Some were family and friends while others were drug addicts and whores, thieves and clergypersons (not sure if the clergypersons thing is really a word. Aw Fuck it, call it a Bushism). Me having a steady job and most of these having not, yet wishing me to stay with them during the sub zero temps of 48 hours last week. I'd tell all not to worry as I said thanks for the offer, but I'd be okay. Receiving many a hug from them last week as if they'd never see me living again, we'd part company. I made a point to see each and every one of them as the temps rose. Some said, praise Jesus, while others stated Allah is merciful, Buddha smiles, to "you are one lucky mother fucker!"
I told them all I'd be okay. And I was.
Yet, how did I know this in a home without electricity and gas? Camping in a plaster over slats wall environment where occasionally the outside temperatures would be warmer than that of its rooms and hallways?
Was it sheer pride that propelled me? Perhaps.
Was it vanity? Yeah, right. Anyone that knows me or my words know I care little for how others view me. I look like shit most of the time and always display myself with lopsided beard, generally shabby clothing and fucked up, disgusting shoes. I think that's an accurate assessment of the physical me.
I learned heroin usage is not for me. I did it twice in 2013. My findings: The best of physical/psychological highs in full throttle body orgasm don't mean squat to me when waking surrounded in my own urine and fecal matter in its wake. Sorry to the addicts of this drug hooked/fooled like the millions that go to polls thinking their vote means a thing in the overall scheme of things. Perhaps a political party should be created for heroin addicts. Why not have a party for those hooked on Crystal Meth, Weed, Frisbee, Religion, Atheism, Agnosticism, Fords, GM's, KIa Souls-(God help ya if ya forgot where you parked your Soul. yeah, boooo. lol).
Yet why, in the land of endless possibilities, that being the United States of America, do we really only have two real parties to politically choose from? Hey, we can walk into any Walmart, Kmart, Macy's, CVS, WAlgreens , Sears Rite Aide, Mcdonalds, Burger King, Denny's, Red Lobster, Olive Garden, Carraba's and be given hosts of options for similar products, yet not arenas to make change for our betterment? Stroll into any local bar nowadays and you're given such a massive beer list of domestic micro-brewery choices rivaling vineyards across our great lands that either from sheer depth, consumption, or both when sobering might make one wonder why.\
C'mon America! Are all of us only worth two real political powers to choose from? Seriously, aren't we worth so much more? For your higher powers sake, aren't we given so many more choices for things of lesser value, like the number of cable stations we have, radio stations of choice and so many other diversions to make us go astray from the importance of how we are all getting fucked equally by both the democratic and republican parties?
Perhaps, like so many Lemmings, we need to see more of us walk off the cliff and fall into oblivion for it to hit home. If you believe this, you carry far more faith than I carry as an American citizen. Yeah, like the children of our country aren't daily dying overseas in the middle east for little more than to protect sheer sake of profit sharing by few, and consumption of oil b y most of us.
As I have said before: As an American, I am guilty of senseless violence and the slaying of innocents across this world. I AM GUILTY AS MY TAX DOLLARS PAID FOR THESE EVENTS TO OCCUR AS I PAID FOR THE CREATION OF THE BULLETS, BOMBERS AND THEIR BOOMERS, MISSILES, NERVE GAS, FUEL-AIR BOMBS. By all means from a global standpoint hold me accountable and sentence me to death. Shit, my tax dollars should earn me this place as a singular death of me and my loss to tax-deaths might equal about 417 civilians in other lands.
I found personal responsibility most lost as those gained in connectivity via tablets, cell phones and internet hustlers creating a greater world as more Non-Violent Psychopaths become born and fostered by our American Value System.
Politicians from both our massive TWO sides agree: There is an abuse of the welfare system as well as the unemployment system, so cut-backs become law.
Isn't it funny as the lack of employed here in the United States Of America hasn't brought about parallel increases in home break-ins, personal assaults and car thefts?
Crack the shell that covers your brain and think for once for yourself.
With me about drugs. Pain Relief caries with viable reason for physical need in managing pain. The mind can do far better than any drug when treating others if administered properly by those that have a sound EMOTIONAL base, geared toward empathy and self sacrifice.
Is Self Sacrifice so hard in the realms of your supposed passion? Satisfying tiny pangs of guilt, you toss coins, paper into Salvation Army kettles strolling in and out of stores mindlessly.
In the heavy overtime season, my partner and I on night shift packing, on average, container by hand, about 37 tons a piece per week.. I am considering this amazing about myself, yet my partner is over ten years my age and strives to keep up. (Know this: Twenty and
Thirty year olds have failed to do barely 3/4's of what he and I can do. )
get higher and higher,
Sunlight causing pain to cross my, our meager bones.
Splashes of passionate forsaken dreams in those of quilted sheets
MARK WILLIAM DARUS
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