Frames of Mind



Lately my brain has had more than a few puzzles cycling through it. There’s a system out there which I cannot mention, a secret locked anyway in the universe of thought which will not lend its secrets so easy, that I must solve. And worse yet, I believe this system – this puzzle played on all humanity – wants nothing except the maintenance of its own order. In truth we do not battle each other, for the weapons we raise against one another, be they physical or emotional, are mere toys compared to this system of order. The universal gestalt points like a dagger back at anyone might raise their voice in opposition. It is my decision to raise my voice in such a manner.

I have always felt this way. Since the time I was a child and I bucked the system, rebelling against what I saw in front of me. The natural order fought back, imposing systems upon my thinking, my schooling, all in a desperate attempt to subdue my natural rabble rousing essence. For people are nothing if not lying in wait of a system. We yearn for someone to show us a path; a way to make what we are doing not just simpler, but to conform to those around us and rest our bodies inside the safety of the pack. We are told outsiders are eaten, or bashed upon the rocks of others judgement.


There is no safety there for me.


Rebellions are a call for the spotlight. Those who stand out are pounded down, as the hammer of reality bashes them back into place. When will we – those who choose to stand – see that it is our fellow humans who wield the hammer? It is far easier to stand in line waiting on the offerings this world chooses for us to have than to step out from the crowd and sing a different tune. Not a petty demand for more, but simply to be heard. I am not as prideful to assume I am the only one who lives this life, many do by the nature of their very skin tone or heartbeat. These souls who exist outside the ledger we are supposed to believe in. They take risks every time a breath is drawn. Society by and large has not made a place for them in the world because they fear the bending of ones and zeros into something which is both and neither. Instead they are punished by our minds and actions, cursed to walk an existence of rebellion where they wait on the sacrifice of others to give them succor or demand it with a tongue sharper than any sword.

This path is not for everyone. Accepting the nature of what the system has given is what most will do. Artists will always be the first to rise, to raise their passion to the sky as if it were hammer and tongs. From there, it flows outward, rippling through the souls of the waiting until they hear our battle cry. Now more voices rise in opposition to the system’s oppressive force. The battle is met, crossed swords and fiery speeches given, until the system moves to allow such a change or the people give up their war of words for a time of peace. For me, there can be no peace until those who exist outside the margins share the same comfort as those who created the lines in the first place.
Addendum: Happy to report that I am well on my way with many of the queries I need to create. I have a long list of agents I’ll contact to move this project on to the next step. It’s a seachange from every single project I’ve done before. I’m now asking for someone in the literary world to read my work and judge it based on their experience. Traditional publishing feels like a minefield of choices to navigate, but it’s an important step in my life’s process.