Notes of a Madman. Poem "Aftermath"
This piece connects to this piece, so on and so forth, forever circularly? Linearly?
“Keep your axe sharp and your powder dry.” One of Colonel Robert Roger’s rules he used for “Rangering” in Colonial America. His story is one to read, especially you folks still out there making it happen. The lessons still hold true. Readiness and the will to protect those that lack the ability to do it themselves. Don’t forget that part, we are Americans. Back then, each side had Native allies and mixed race soldiers. Diversity has always led to strength. Something some have forgotten. Reel that shit in too. Now I wield a pen, the past and the truth.
Creative Essay. Please note I find my truth through Science, not Conspiracy.
Yesterday I sent one of my best friends several words in a text. They are all concepts and theories that I recently think I might have successfully tied together in my mind. They are not original but once I incorporate that which I won’t reveal will provide something new. I broke it down that way so when I see him soon I can go over each part individually. I have to see his reaction first before I share it with anyone else. I have a few more forbidden books coming soon. They are hidden in plain sight to osmotically absorb, you just have to know which is truth and which is fiction. Here are there first four. There are many more. Brain, Microtubules, Neurons, Learning. I have left the biggest ones out on purpose because these are nothing new. They are tied together and I know how they work. Although this is not new, I practice at being able to explain it with simple words so more can understand the tangled web.
People searching for the real are the ones I love and communicate with. Although the unreal is where the answers await discovery. My friends simply entertain my banter. This is unnecessary knowledge to many of them. I share with those that tolerate me. That word…tolerate. A required condition to function. Remember, the work has been done. The truth is all that needs to be uncovered, connected. That is what Detectives do, along with
Science and people like Anthropologists and Archeologists. Even Generals. Context…and it’s story told through pulverized pieces of what remain. I have met many that are experts at all of these things and see real power. A valuable tool to humanity. I see this. Doctors of truth.
I follow where it leads.
I don’t get out much when I am digesting data. It is nice outside and I could be searching some woods for signs of human occupation. I mowed the lawn and this is one of the places words come flooding in. Thoughts, doubts, connections. This is my effort; in this case just words. They are all just stories which is what I assert life provides us, little more. We provide our reality to one another. They involve humanity and the artifacts we fashion to tell that story. That should be pretty simple right?
Answers, truths. That is why I ended up in Anthropology I guess. It was what I have been doing my whole life and didn’t know until 2000. I admit that now to all of you. My Bioanthropological interests goes past bones and delves into our mind. How we individually and collectively interact with one another and how I can use it to figure certain mysteries out. I am tapping on the glass of reality and have a plan. At conflict, I begin with the most data.
Now I have to learn to LEAD a Dig. Once I get that I am going to heal soldiers and I know how now. There are many ways and this is just ONE. I wish to use my skills for good. For all, not some. Hate me for that and I will meet you on the field armed with the truth. That will provide a path to what I see. Then you can make your final choice.
For sufferers of conflict, I assert there is a different way to avoid this and better ways to treat it. I did it to myself and have been thinking about the avoidance lessons ever since. War is still a necessary evil. I am still a hawk while the snake is in the grass. I hold no remorse for my brothers and sisters that continue. That is your lot and I understand. That is what I want to do. Understand, not question. Why can’t more of us do this? It pains me.
The environment is not one that can be changed at present. In the meantime, stopgap measures to help suffering veterans is my focus. After traumatic events, they work completely different than before. It doesn’t have to be one terrible truth. It can be little trips across that line, over and over that collectively cause these long term effects. NOT JUST ONE OR SEVERAL big ones. I watched it play out in real-time. I bring this knowledge to the table of understanding.
I explain myself here now for when I ask for help. That is what we do. It is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of being human. It is called altruism…selflessness. I have some to give. That is what I have been crafted into by the people I led and the people that led the way.
*Note. You cannot look at this as a line but a point. Everyone is different. You can most likely determine the line once you have the baseline by connecting the points of everyone involved. Some of this could be figured out beforehand. It is too complicated to put here but it is in my head. I had to do it before.
It is the environment they are asked to live in and operate. The reality is difficult to conceptualize from past experiences. Some are programmed for this over time, some even before they arrived. Some immediately just break when you place them here. Many more just begin to get confused and ask why? I paid close attention and accept and assigned the skill and the task of sharing. Unknown data is worthless. Like a lost book or the directions to a new Supercomputer. Wasted. I cannot allow such a thing.
Let me try to use words so you can experience it. It can be situational. Your mind can shut those memories down if it needs to. Let me try to see what I can conjure for you. No, I am not a wizard. I am not a holy man. All I can call myself at this point is a worn soldier. One interested in collectively healing those that I can. Like I did myself.
The Poem.
Aftermath
Haunted.
Hazy earthly questions. Something forever amiss.
Unseen apparitions. Brought on by unwanted things.
A portal opens, never to close.
Where things go to die. To perish forever, over and over.
Things you just would forget. Harmless to most but not to you.
You will avoid it. Steer clear if you can. Deadly and necessary.
Just as deadly as the best tiny isotopic poisons,
Of the Hegemony. Gluttonous pigs snort, snort, snort. '
The portal cracks open. It stays open long after you try.
Sounds. Smells are common but something more lingers.
Try to escape. Crawling through the darkness.
Damp musty moss and the lingering smell of death,
It is the smell of death and life together you learn.
Always present in a forest when you traverse the paths.
Step forward, step by step. Meter by meter.
Facing downward.
Pressed to the earth. You are now close to it. Closer now.
Closer than you ever were. You crawl.
In the darkness looking for a way out.
Sorry, I know that poem sounds dark but this was a feeling of despair not uncommon to someone suffering from trauma. I wanted to articulate that. Right now, I know people all over the world are feeling this. I feel them. Fortunately, these feelings within me are controlled by me now. Mastered by patience, prestige and focus. I am not feeling this way. I can tap into it, often much of it not originating from myself. I read their voices and they reverberate and echo in my mind. I harness that energy I just wrote about and believe I wield the standards of those that will one day be considered simply “Just.” For them, I keep fighting. For them, I find wisdom.
Some lose control of your body (MIND!) when you need it, right? Let others that have crawled out light the way.
A Chipman. Since 1650.
RLTW.
To those that care for soldiers:
One more item of note. I see them crawling. I hear them huffing and shuffling along. Scratching and dragging into the Earth. Many will eventually get up while some remain down. I know you help them, thank you. Many will come to you. I know I can get them to show up. I am going to see to that. Maybe they will once again belong to themselves and I can make them see what is waiting for them behind the veil of humanity. Hope.