suffering – Page 4 – Opinions Of Eye

The Beautiful Rejected Ones – Spontaneous acts of kindness

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.” – Plato

“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
– Mother Teresa

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How strong am I? I didn’t know until I faced death, loneliness, depression, lost a loved one, felt the pain of hating my body, experienced the betrayal of a lover, and wrestled with an addiction. These I have done and come back from, being rewarded with an understanding and compassion for those teetering on the point of no return. So many people on that edge, looking self loathing, rejection, and death in the face. These are the outcasts, the downtrodden, the incarcerated, the elderly, the dis-formed, the dysfunctional, the addicted. I will be a friend, a partner to those rejected by the crowd. Starving for affection and acceptance, withering beneath the blazing sun of rejection by family, by friends, by society. Orphans, left behind, stranded on islands of disorders: disorders of eating, thinking, mobility, and socializing. I don’t know their pain, their reason for leaving the path to wander aimlessly through a deep and lonely sea, finding themselves without a way back. I will be the ship on the horizon. I will send up the smoke of my prayers that they may see a sign before they see me and have hope. Many don’t want, or will refuse help. I mean no offense to their independence, I don’t want to change them, that they must do themselves, if they need to change at all. I wish only to offer a respite from their routine. That is my resolution for this new year, to travel to the edge of my world, the edge of the parties, the edge of church services, the edge of bars, the edge of communities, and bring to them a concerned and loving hand of compassion. I will bring hope, an opportunity to get back up and try again, a break to breathe easier, refreshing them. With this sip of cold water, perhaps I may save a life or revive a weary soul to get up and come out of the cold, into the warmth of love. Look for me this new year, you will find me in the company of these, the beautiful rejected ones.

Also published in: Broowaha

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Wisdom’s Seven Pillars – Pillar #3 – Seriousness

“Wisdom has built her house, she has carved out her seven pillars:” Proverbs 9:1. The aim of this series is to present a non-cliche, non-religious point of view of wisdom. I do subscribe to some religious interpretations of the subjects addressed, but wish to here, only point out the common understanding of the principles.

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through the experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved.”

– Helen Keller, (1880-1968)

A continually full stomach, a life absent from suffering, void of enemies, full of fun and hedonistic pleasure, will make me soft and foolish, spoiled and demanding, empty of wisdom and hardened to its courting calls. Sorrow, the winds of adversity, great pressure and trouble, will keep me sharp and on my game. Seriousness is a gift born from suffering. Desire suffering over a life of ease and fullness. However it works in my life, wisdom requires a serious attitude to come of age. Foolish entertainments and company will corrupt good wisdom and good habits. I must beware of long periods of ease and content, it will likely fuel my descent away from wisdom. Embracing the hard times of life will make me fertile for the seeds of wisdom to take root, guarantee their fruitfulness, and an atmosphere ideal for their growth.

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

Related Links: Pillar #1 – Humility; Pillar #2 – Peace; Pillar #3 – Seriousness; Pillar #4 – Quietness; Pillar #5 Mercy; Pillar #6 – Easily Entreated; Pillar #7 – Higher Source

Wisdom’s Seven Pillars – Pillar #3 – Seriousness

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through the experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved.”

– Helen Keller, (1880-1968)

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

Related Links: Pillar #1 – Humility; Pillar #2 – Peace; Pillar #3 – Seriousness; Pillar #4 – Quietness; Pillar #5 Mercy; Pillar #6 – Easily Entreated; Pillar #7 – Higher Source

Angel, Part 6 – The Flip Side –

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Driving her to the club once again, my eyes showed the strain of working all day and watching her all night. We parted with our usual exchange of kisses and hugs. I drove away, looking back at my Angel, her innocent looks were slowly changing, leaving traces of fear and emptiness. My Angel, I want to take you away from all this. Gathering myself, like I always did when I had to leave her, I drove away slowly. The day I drove away faster than I came to her would be the end. Halfway home, my phone vibrated to life…its Angel, “Baby, don’t come back, I’m staying here.” “What!” I screamed into the phone, “What’s wrong, what happened?”. “They told me you were screwing another dancer, that you would hurt me, and that I needed to stay with them”. Swerving off the road, pulling a two point turn that would make a stuntman jealous, I peeled out back to her, stones and dust chasing me.

I hit the gravel parking lot, cranked the wheel and slid sideways toward the entrance. Flinging my door open, I jumped out, the car was still rolling. I didn’t give it the least thought, my only concern, was finding out who was sabotaging my relationship. “Fucking jealous haters, always gotta try some shit to get what they want. This time they went to far, I’ve had it.” It’s a bad thing when I talk to myself like that. The bar was still closed, the girls getting ready in the back. Kicking the door open, completely breaking the lock, I began my incursion. A want-to-be bouncer put his hands on me, I looked at him with rage lighting up my eyes. He let go almost immediately, standing back with both hands up, saying “Calm down man!”. I wasn’t a small man, throwing around logs all day had toughened and thickened me to serious looking potential, and this perhaps kept him at a distance as well. I kept screaming, “Who is the mother fucker who is spreading this shit about me?”. I grabbed a stool, throwing it across the bar into the one of the many mirrors, mirrors reflecting now, a passion of a very different sort.

Breaking glass announced to the rest of the club that something is about to go very, very wrong. Leaving a path of destruction, I found the dressing room, threatening anyone and everyone, screaming for my accusers to show themselves. Dancers ran, screaming, scared. Another bouncer looked frantically under the bar, probably going for a gun, which apparently wasn’t there. I sent mirrors flying, the carefully arranged makeup, scattered like cockroaches in the light as I flipped over tables. Smashed lipstick resembling bloody smears littered the carpet, as I continued my enraged foray. Confronting her I used all my control to not be rough with my angel. She boldly said, “it was the owner, Paul and his wife”. “Fucking players, they just want a threesome with you!”, I responded, knowing Paul’s intentions from the start. They had to remove me from the game, for the very reason that was now playing out, their worst nightmare, a jealous raging man, with nothing to lose. I stormed out of the dressing room, now a disaster area, and focused on finding Paul.

Going back toward the entrance, I saw him, puffed up and proud, yelling at me. I ran and grabbed him with both hands, lifting him off the ground, pinning him to wall by his neck. I drew back and was just about to punish him, when I started to calm down. If I hit him like this, I would crush his cheek bones, ruin his jaw, and screw his life up for a good amount of time. I let him down as my Angel grabbed me and pulled me to the bathroom. She had an evil grin, an excitement at all this done for her, over her. She loved it, every minute. When I heard the crackle of police radios, she smiled again “there here for you”. Yeah they were here for me. From now on, the police would come four men and two cars deep when they heard my name.

Next Chapter: Part 7 – Razor’s Edge

Angel Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Also published in Broowaha

First published in Opinionsofeye.com

Rain Drop

“Do not be angry with the rain;

it simply does not know how to fall upwards.”

― Vladimir Nabokov

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Why am I leaving my place of comfort, my mountain lake so clear and pristine?

Why am I flying higher and higher through places I’ve never been?

Why am I spinning in clouds so dark with rumblings fierce?

Why am I thrown to the ground in anger it seems?

Now I am being swallowed up by a young oak.

That was the reason for all my trial and discomfort. It was to give life….

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At War With Me – Inside the mind of schizophrenia

“Schizophrenia cannot be understood without understanding despair.” – R. D. Laing

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Alone again, sitting on the edge of shattered dreams

Looking out across the littered landscape

On surreal castaway emotions

Lining up for the battle, players in full effect

No penalty getting called, game plan checked

Time for confrontation

Many people in the same head, crowded conditions

Please raise your hand before speaking

Miserable summations.

We say I’m crazy, I believe we got it right

My friends in my head, they speak at once

Which part of we is normal?

Is this me or we?

Also published in Broowaha

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The Queen – Chapter 2 – The subjects of the Queen

The late afternoon turned to the late night, evidenced by the visible change in both volume and appearance of my queens subjects. The large middle aged blue collar slave, began to morph into, a slicker, more refined slave, those whose love for my queen, gave birth to other interests, like little meetings in the restroom, hushed conversation with obvious handshakes concluding their business. The toll my queen takes on her subjects spurred them on to more devious measures of support for her, their habit. I reached for what I thought was my last 10, and with disgruntled acknowledgment, got a small wad of pocket lint in return. My evening was over, time to make room for the others. I swayed a little when I got up, the servants of my queen were generous in their distribution of libations, knowing that it eased the passage of my money, her money, onto her throne. My breath, in a misty complaint of the cold air, clouded my sight as I walked out into the dull colors of the night. I breathed in deep, sorrow at having to leave my queen. Lowering my eyes, focusing on the crumpled paper blowing aimlessly at my feet, I followed it’s haphazard path down the street away from the throne. I felt the slight tap at my shoulder, it jolted me from my miserable summation, and turning, I see, my queen. Or was it? She had removed her royal garb, her hair a different color, (the wig hanging with her ornaments in the changing room). Her eyes softer, dare I say, innocent, without the heavy colors, the extended lashes, that brought out their seductive gaze from the dark. Speaking a whisper in my ear, I knew, it was her, my queen, her voice had confirmed her bond. She still had control, even in this visage. I knew, in a few soft words, my role of servant, now went to protector…amazing how she can put me in positions that I never thought I could fill. I, the newly knighted slave, threw my coat around her. Come my queen, I’ll protect you, youll be safe with me. This is why I work my mundane, back breaking job, so I might protect her and escape from the listless world that was mine, outside this Queen’s castle.

NEXT CHAPTER

Certificate of Insanity

This post is from fellow blogger, Miss Audrey. Enjoy!

I’m trying not to cry,

the tears want to come out,

but I’m holding them captive.

The thought of me being insane

is my only relief.

I don’t want to believe

that this is me being normal :

that would mean that

I would have to live my entire life

with my tears wanting to come out,

with the lump in my throat,

with the rocks I have on my heart.

No, I must be insane,

a passing insanity.

I will go at the doctor,

to put his stamp on the certificate.

It’s only a temporary certificate of insanity.

Longing for a Home

“Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.” – David Ogden Stiers

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Adrift, wood on the water,

longing to be a part of home.

Blowing, a leaf in the wind,

looking for a tree that gave me birth.

I set my soul, my aimless soul,

to catch that wind that drives me home.

Drop the keel, my wayward spirit,

find your peace on the shores of family

Between Two Worlds – Choices

“What is the point of having free will if one cannot occasionally

spit in the eye of destiny?” – Jim Butcher, White Night

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I find a journey,
between two worlds,
full of mystery,
as my path unfurls.

With no knowledge,
of whats before,
I choose to continue,
to go through the door.

Where the path leads,
I have yet to know.
I have my purpose,
now I must go.

To stay where I’ve been,
no riches are gained.
Forward I press on,
in spite of the pain.