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“The world is poetry. Everything that exists in it, on it, under it, over it or around it can be reduced to neat lines of language. You can even make the lines uneven if you don’t like neat. The words need not necessarily be in lines. You may prefer to count syllables or just write words that have a balance or beauty when written together. I have heard it said that poetry begins in the bowels of man. I once wrote that must be the reason some of it really stinks. Some of my own poetry was included in that statement. I like to write rhyme, personally. Yes, I know there are only several words that rhyme with love. I learned that when I was about eleven, around the same time I learned love sucks. I have no need to rhyme the word with anything; I have come to the conclusion there is neither rhyme nor reason to match the phenomenon of human love. I may write about the loss or lack or resulting nightmares of it, but you can shove love.
The world is full of poets. From bathroom stalls to plaques on walls, you can find it everywhere. Everyone must be a poet. Some poets write only to relieve boredom, as they empty their bowels of both turds and words. The only difference between any poets is the passion which they feel for the art, if it can be called that anymore. When I think of art, I picture galleries, paint, festivals and auctions. Poetry makes me think of quiet times pondering the human experience. Sometimes the words are angry and loud, pouring onto the page in a wild torrent of rage. Other times they are gentle and more like a soft rain, helping flowers to grow. There is a need in me to scribble clever words on paper, pound sarcastical sense out of inane, insane humanity on a keyboard, describe things which it sometimes seems only I am able to see in the sky or on a fence or in a pool of water. It always makes me wonder, looking at other human beings watching clouds or birds, whether they are mentally writing poetry. I do it all the time. Everything I see, think, feel, smell, touch and hear has poetry written all over it. There is inspiration in rocks, rust, nails and dust. It’s silly, don’t you think, for a grown man to wander around this world with a rhyme on the tip of his tongue which will never be spoken, only relegated to the back of the mind for later discernment? Even when written, most will usually be read only by me, so why bother to scribble it on paper? It is silly, yet I cannot forestall the inevitability of writing it or feeling it.”
So to answer your question, “Everything makes a poet”.
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It seems like there is a huge topic around Immigration these days. The European nations are being overrun by immigrants from African nations and here in the US we see Africans, Chinese, South Americans, Mexicans, Haitians, etc. What I think is missing is the “BIG FAT ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM”.
Let us take a look at the European countries that colonized Africa for starters. This is quite an extensive list that sites the historical precedent for these colonies. List of European colonies in Africa. The question is, why did they do that? What was the main purpose for going into a land that was not theirs and taking it over.
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Was it for the resources? Let us ponder upon that for just a moment.
Were they invited to come in and colonize? Let’s ponder that for another moment longer.
Were they well received? Again we can ponder more.
And when they did go there, did they have develop good relations with the indigenous or did they take over with the imposition of religion, military force, subjugation, intrigue, manipulation, facilitation of tribal wars and tyranny? Or did they gently sit down with the leaders of these countries and cut nice little deals for themselves where everyone was treated equally and therefore equally benefited?
Today, European nations feel threatened that they are being replaced. But how is this replacement taking place? Is it being done under the auspices of colonization or is it being done under the auspices of infiltration or is it simply a product of the havoc that colonization caused when they, centuries ago, stepped foot onto the African continent, a continent that still shows the impact of the destruction the European invasion caused to this very day in 2024.
What did the colonizers do in Africa? They claimed territories that were not theirs to begin with. They fought amongst themselves over who was the owner of what lands. Then they prescribe borders on their territories not taking into account the various clans and tribes that live there, causing societal strife and chaos. They imposed their language, religion, values, morals, sanctions, monetary systems, political systems and on and on. This resulted in the basic destabilization of many African countries trying to hold on to their indigenous rights and way of life.
In 1870, only 10 percent of Africa was under European control. By 1914 it had risen to almost 90 percent of the continent, with only Ethiopia (Abyssinia), the Dervish state (present-day Somalia), and Liberia still being independent.
Over time, as one European country subjugated another the borders and all else changed causing even more destabilization among the African peoples. There are only a hand full of African countries who did not bare the brunt of the European incursion and as late as today, some are still suffering the impact of the European colonization of the African continent.
Case in point, you can actually determine what European country colonized what African country simply by the national language and the imposed names upon native lands that carry European names.
The utter castigation, transformation and denigration of the societies, long held before the European arrived, is testimony to the prevailing epoch of Empire building and its devastating impact it had on the indigenous people who lived there.
Of course Empire building is not exclusive to colonization by the European. That is not my point. My point is that when Europeans claim to being replaced by foreigners from other lands, are we not looking in the mirror? In fact, we are looking at bloody wars, the overtaking of economic structures, implantation of legal and societal structures, which can actually be considered to be a type of physical and cultural genocide of the indigenous people the European colonized on the African continent.
We need only look back at what I’ve already sited, and apply it in exactly the same way as it was done in Africa. They found a land that wasn’t lost and fought over a land that wasn’t theirs. In fact, we can also add 2 more things to the list.
the capturing of indigenous individuals from Africa to work and build the Americas.
the importation of prisoners, dissidents, and heretics to the Americas to colonize the land.
Again we can see the influence of this process in the names, language, food, lifestyle, etc. that all bespeak the presence of Europeans in the Americas. Adding to that destabilization of North, Central & South America we see the European nations financially penalizing those they conquered when they attempted to free themselves from the grip of their colonizers. While folks are saying that the immigrants are criminals, we need only look at the strata of the European population that initially colonized the Americas to see the parallels. (When the shoe is on the other foot, it’s a tight squeeze.)
Of course the indigenous of all these lands had their disputes and tribal wars. But they were on their own turfs, they did not travel beyond their natural boundaries to colonize European countries. Okay, please do not fight me on this issue, I am aware of Hannibal and his trip across the Alps.
I am aware of his influence in Spain & Italy to this day. What I am focusing on in this writing is the difference between European nations coming together to decide to take over lands beyond their borders, fighting amongst themselves who had true sovereignty over lands that were not theirs to begin with and how now they are feeling threatened that they will suffer the same outcome as the countries they colonized. You do not see African countries coming together to export their colonies into European lands. You do not see the masters of the seas fighting each other over who will master the seas and who will be the master of the Slavery industry.
What we do see, however, is a large number of displace peoples from destabilized colonized nations attempting to flee from the destruction that colonization placed upon them. Quite frankly, they are being incentivized by other Europeans to immigrate out of their native lands into the very land of their colonizers.
Think about how convoluted this process is. Does it not speak to the desire of the European to continue their manifest destiny at any cost, even at the cost of their own indigenous brothers and sisters.
So to me, the fact that Europeans are beginning to feel that they are being replaced by immigrants, shows a clear lack of a historical lens that would give them a deeper insight into what is truly happening here, and not the emotional rhetoric that they are being invaded and replaced.
In fact, it was the European who bought into the failed concept that the population of the earth was about to explode. It was they, who so took to heart this propaganda, that they willingly took the option of decreasing their family size to the point where they cannot replace themselves. Immigrant populations will only increase the indigenous populations by numbers, not by ethnicity. Africans will always be descendants from Africa and Europeans will always be descendants from Europe.
There are so many nuances to this immigration construct, too many to list here, but suffice it to say, that it is definitely part of a larger more global plan to destabilize the entire world, such that Global leadership will be needed to quell the chaos. Deep in the hearts of these manipulators lies the idea of conquering the entire world by any means necessary. As nuanced as the means and measures may be, they have one goal in common, total dominion.
Conclusion: Immigration into European countries, the USA & Canada is a consequence of years of the European mindset that they can go into other lands, implant their systems and take over, in most cases, violently. Today, we are looking at the consequence of this “Manifest Destiny” aka “Empire building” on lands that were not initially theirs to begin with. We are seeing a type of “blowback” upon their descendants and the immigrants who had nothing to do with this plan. In fact we are seeing “the chickens come home to roost”. I just hope this is a lesson taken well, however I doubt that it will stop the momentum. The power to rule the entire world is quite addictive.
“The phrase “ the chickens are coming home to roost” is well-known and often attributed to African American, anti-imperialist, revolutionary leader Malcolm X following the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963. This refers, of course, to mean that the wrongs committed by an individual or political entity will likewise have a boomerang effect and come back to punish the wrongdoing party in a similar vein.”
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A time comes in your life when you finally get it…when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries OUT!…ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on.
Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.
This is your awakening.
You realize it’s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon.
You realize that in the real world there aren’t always fairy tale endings, and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you.., and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.
You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are.., and that’s OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.
You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself., and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval.
You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you – or didn’t do for you – and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.
You learn that people don’t always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and that everything isn’t always about you.
So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself.., and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.
You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties…., and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.
You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.
You learn, the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you’ve outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.
You lean that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a “consumer” looking for your next fix.
You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.
You learn that you don’t know everything, it’s not your job to save the world and that you can’t teach a pig to sing. You learn that the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.
Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.
You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.
You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.
You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drink more water, and take more time to exercise.
You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So, you take more time to laugh and to play.
You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you believe you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.
More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance You also learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it’s OK to risk asking for help.
You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.
You learn to light for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.
You learn that life isn’t always fair, you don’t always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting good people… and you learn not to always take it personally.
You learn that nobody’s punishing you and everything isn’t always somebody’s fault. It’s just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.
You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the Universe that surrounds you.
You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.
Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than your heart’s desire.
You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.
You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.
Finally, with courage in your bean, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and
you begin to design the life you want to live as best you can.
– Author Unknow;, 09-03-2001
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I’ve learned -that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them.
I’ve learned – that no matter how much I care, some people just don’t care back.
I’ve learned – that it takes years to build up trust, and only seconds to destroy it.
I’ve learned – that it’s not what you have in your life, but who you have in your life that counts.
I’ve learned – that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you’d better know something.
I’ve learned – that you shouldn’t compare yourself to the best others can do.
I’ve learned – it’s not what happens to people that’s important. It’s what they do about it.
I’ve learned – that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.
I’ve learned – that no matter how thin you slice it, there are always two sides.
I’ve learned – that it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
I’ve learned – that it’s a lot easier to react than it is to think.
I’ve learned – that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.
I’ve learned – that you can keep going long after you think you can’t.
I’ve learned – that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.
I’ve learned – that either you control your attitude or it controls you.
I’ve learned – that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.
I’ve learned – that heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.
I’ve learned – that learning to forgive takes practice.
I’ve learned – that there are people who love you dearly, but just don’t know how to show it.
I’ve learned – that money is a lousy way of keeping score.
I’ve learned – that my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.
I’ve learned – that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you’re down will be the ones to help you get back up.
I’ve learned – that sometimes when I’m angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn’t give me the right to be cruel.
I’ve learned – that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.
I’ve learned – that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.
I’ve learned – that maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you’ve had and what you’ve learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you’ve celebrated.
I’ve learned -that no matter how good a friend is, they’re going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.
I’ve learned – that it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
I’ve learned – that no matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn’t stop for your grief.
I’ve learned – that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
Author unknown
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You can refer to this reading, from the day you receive it until the day you are finished with this incarnation.
Let me add here, that there are still various cultural indicators surrounding the birth of a child that can still be seen in practice today.
Many of them have religious rituals and ceremonies attached to them and can be observed in the form of Naming Ceremonies, Christening, Confirmations, and even circumcision as a type of Rites of Passage, or entry of the child into the Physical world. Names are often given to represent a relative, saint (deity) or historical figure.
Again, without getting a Life Path reading then it is possible that the name does not depict the actual path of the child. On the other hand, when a reading is done, it can determine more succinctly the direction the soul is traveling and thus gives the individual a strong gauge to measure his/her progress as they mature.
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Are You Lost In The World Like Me? refers to the music video for Moby & The Void Pacific Choir’s song “Are You Lost In The World Like Me?” (directed and animated by Steve Cutts) which was posted to YouTube in late 2016. The video is a black and white animation in the style of a retro, Max Fleischer cartoon, portraying a phone-obsessed world where everyone is on their devices, social media and not interacting with anyone around them. A boy, however, is the only person not on his phone. Meant to highlight how phones are bad, the video gained criticism years later in 2022 and 2023, when a post on X, formerly Twitter, wrongly identified it as the “Best Short” winner at the Venice Film Festival. From then on, many internet users made memes with the boy main character, humorously ridiculing him. Other discourse surfaced about animator Steve Cutts and his history of “deep” animations which also gained criticism.
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While I listened to the Dems jumping up and down about the Supreme Court Ruling claiming it gave the President total immunity to do whatever he wants to do, no matter what that may be, I wondered if anyone else saw what I saw. I have been around for a long time and this “nobody is above the law” is so obnoxiously irrelevant when it comes to the president, sitting or otherwise, I could barely wrap my brain around what these pundits were saying. I mean seriously?
There is an advantage of having young folks in Congress, I would surmise, maybe they are bringing fresh blood to an archaic run-down system, but if they are so oblivious to this country’s history, are they really being of any use to anyone?
Then you have the old geezers who refuse to move, are consistently re-elected and some rolled out in wheelchairs or fearfully wearing a hazmat suit, it makes me wonder, are their brains fried so much so that they’ve forgotten what president, after president after president has done over the years of their tenure. For sure these old folks have been in office thru many administrations from both sides of the aisle and they’ve seen blatant and covert miscarriage of justice. They’ve seen one presidential candidate campaign on change and change and more change, only to go right down the same path of their predecessor.
In fact, the predecessor sets things up in such a way that any change agent coming in afterwards would have to actually burn the white house down and start all over again. Do they not see how much is set in place with these puppets who appear to be able to do “something” different or better when in actuality, their hands are tied. Not only that, they often openly and covertly, look past the indiscretions of their predecessor with the line of “Let’s look forward and not backwards.” When in fact it’s the “history” of the president that makes a case for indictment for their crimes.
Now, the Bush administration committed one of the most hideous crimes in recent American history. The “post-9/11 unity” Obama is speaking of positively here was in part a jingoistic and Islamophobic national hysteria that produced two catastrophic wars. To say that we should not discuss “who is to blame” is to implicitly exonerate wrongdoing, or at least to sweep it under the rug. Obama said he didn’t want to prosecute Bush-era torturers because he wanted to “look forward, not backward.” To see the absurdity of this, we can imagine how it would sound for any other crime. In cases of murder or sexual assault, would it be neutral and fair-minded to say that we were “not interested in the past”? Or would it be taking a side? (In fact, instead of prosecuting torturers, Obama decided to prosecute the CIA official who leaked evidence of the torture program.) https://www.currentaffairs.org/news/2020/10/obamas-words
How many ‘“look forward, not backward” have we been subjected to that gave us the idea, however openly or covertly, that presidents are immune and have been immune since forever, or like Glenn Greenwald states in this riveting presentation, for over 200 years.
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Now we have had assassinations, attempted assassinations, attempted impeachments and covert coups but we have yet to see any president of the USA be convicted of a crime while they were in office, except, and perhaps notably, Former President Donald Trump (who was actually not in office as president at all). This begs to question in my mind, why they are up in arms, when they are quite virulently proclaiming that DJT is a convicted felon!
The Trump derangement syndrome has pulled the wool over the eyes of so many who overtly hate the very ground this man walks on. It is so ubiquitous that they fail to see that DJT is just another just like the other. He is a place holder for the same globalist agenda that is rushing forward like a runaway locomotive. He is the protégé of Henry Kissinger. If folks would just do their homework they’d see that. He never cleaned the swamp, in fact he filled it. He is an establishment guy, he just has rough edges. If elected he will continue to be an establishment guy and his huge ego will become humungous for all to see. He is no more of a dictator or king than any other President. In fact, the US president is claimed to be the “Leader of the Free” world and of the greatest country in the world. The world moves and shakes at the behest of the USA, does that not sound just a bit like a dictator? In fact, when a certain regime does not tow the line for the US’s agenda, they will suffer economic warfare thru sanctions, infiltrations, overthrowing of heads of state, assassinations and vile divide and conquer propaganda, just to name a few. They will send in their Economic Hit man, CIA operatives, Seal Team 6, create media to denigrate anyone opposing them, threaten livelihoods and family members. How is that not equated with dictatorship or even tyranny?
We should all know by now, that Presidential elections are not elections but selections. If the US citizen was an informed voter and studied the nuances of how this system is set up, they would know that they really have little or no say as to who will become president of the USA. It is the illusion of choice, but there really is no choice beyond the megadonors and the electoral machine that determines exactly the when, where, how, who and what will happen when all is said and done. The popular vote means nothing when one considers it can be overruled by the Electoral College.
The pontificating and running around with their hair on fire just shows how ignorant they are of the system that they are a part of, and supposedly are about maintaining the construct of the Constitution of the USA.
Even the counter arguments from the 3 judges who dissented showed just how flawed this system of checks and balances is. These three branches of government are actually show pieces to give the US’s citizens the illusion of inclusion in the process when in fact the process is designed to keep them out, not in.
Some of the most horrendous crimes have been committed by sitting presidents and the system did nothing to bring them to heel. In fact, the system, with its bulwark media, created the narrative that the populace of the USA who questioned their president’s behavior, as anti-establishment or insurrectionists. This response covered the crimes of the presidents, it did not highlight them or prosecute them.
It is an unspoken fact up to this point, that a President of the USA is immune and has been since the inception of this country.
We can look around the world at how the US governmental officials will point fingers at how other countries have dictators and tyrants but we are not allowed, for risk of being censored, or told to go back to where we came from, when we look at what our own person in the “highest office of the land” does that is criminal.
It simply amazes me how ignorant people are of the very institutions of the country that these folks live in. Their blind faith in the system is concerning and alarming at the same time.
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If You Don’t Like It Here Go Back To where You Came From
Is it libel to quote someone on YouTube as having said something they did not say? I only watched this video because I could not believe that Rand Paul would say “Go back to your shithole country!”
Now YouTube will spread this audacious lie for more click bait to get more views. This is so disingenuous. If you watch the video you will see that those were not his exact words though he may have implied that. And to me that’s concerning. If my first point still stands. Why put words in his mouth when what he said was quite clear along with his disdain for what MS. Johan Omar said.
“…I am willing contribute to buy her a ticket to go visit Somalia and I think she could look and maybe learn a little bit about the disaster that is Somalia that it has no capitalism, has no God given rights guaranteed in a constitution and has about 7 different tribes that have been fighting each other for the last 40 years. And then maybe after she’s visited Somalia for a while, she may come back and appreciate America more.”
On the other hand, are we at a place where only people who were born here in the USA have the “right” to express how they feel about living here?
We see folks on mainstream and alternative media expressing their concerns about this country. Should they all go back to where they came from?
If we were to tell those folks to go back to where they came from, they would be hard press to pick a country, as for the most part, this so-called melting pot would make it difficult for them to actually pinpoint their country of origin some generations later. At least she knows her country of origin.
The USA is not this beacon of freedom and democracy that they would like to claim it is. And I was of the mind that if you are a citizen of this country and you have free speech, that if you have a complaint you should have the right to express it. You know the whole “We hold these truths to be self-evident……..”
But because Ilhan Omar is not from the USA she has to hold her tongue and not express her thoughts because where she came from is much worse? I will not go into how her country, formerly colonized by the British and Italians, got worse as it would take me on a tangent beyond the scope of this writing. But suffice it to say that Somalia has been impacted by several US policies over the decades. So in part, the US is responsible for at least some of those tribal wars.
Here are just a few links to US involvement in Somalia.
I don’t get the correlation, however Mr. Paul put it. But it does show his limitations on being a genuine champion of the people. That is, while he may have badgered Dr. Fauci about the origins of the CV1984 virus coming from a lab in Wuhan (which to me is a red herring) it does show his limitations or lack of knowledge of his own country’s meddling in the affairs of the country of Somalia. That aside, the statement made is one of the most baseless take downs anyone with intelligence could use, as it simply dismisses the legitimate concern to a one liner.
“Go back to where you came from then. Shut up or put up.”
Case closed. End of conversation.
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In fact I would wager had Ilhan Omar been another person armed with the info on the US involvement in the disruptions in Somalia, then that person would follow up with the question, “What would you do, Mr. Paul?” and there would have been a very different conversation. In fact Mr. Paul may have opened a can of worms without realizing it.
Ms. Omar is in congress obviously, because she wants to give a voice to the voiceless. To be honest that is merely my assumption. I don’t know her personally nor am I aware of her political stance on many issues. So I must admit, it’s my assumption. Be that as it may, if we are going to tell her to go back to where she came from, then are we
saying that the founding of this country should have never happened out of dissent against Britain’s rule
that every other person who was born here should not complain or point out their concerns
that any complaint about the Justice system in this country should be responded to with “just go back to where they came from” as well?
I’m confused.
Of course, that would be a great challenge for them. This country proudly claims to be a country of immigrants, Statue of liberty and all.
The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus
This is the entire poem “The New Colossus” created by Emma Lazarus.
“Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
‘Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!’ cries she
Folks came here from all over the world. Many have intermingled with each other, so which country would they return to when they become discontent. How about you Mr. Paul? Where do your ancestors hail from? Many of these so called Americans are so miscegenated that they would have to put a bunch of country names in a hat and pick one to see which country they would return to.
It is very disingenuous for a descendent of immigrants to tell a newly arrived immigrant to go back to where they came from, when they too have come from countries seeking asylum in the USA.
Granted, this is merely a sound bite from 2019, posted on YouTube, on June 27, 2024, without any context before or after this comment from Mr. Paul, however it still demonstrates a glaring admission, that only some folks are allowed to complain about the Justice system in the U. S. and obviously according to Mr. Paul, that allowance is not granted to Ms. Omar.
Conclusion: When it’s all said and done, there is an American exceptionalism that overrides the facts of what this country is or is not. They claim to be American citizens when in fact they are only citizens of the United States of America.
Additionally, they feel they can self-righteously tell someone to go back to where they came from and totally ignore their own immigrant status, the Declaration of Independence and the fact that this country was founded by people who were very discontented with their country of origin.
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I am drawing this title from an article that I read that I wish to share with you. However, I want to make a few comments before I share the article with you.
One of the things that I find most interesting about how people talk about Africa is that they tend to think that Africa and its people are homogeneous. While they may share many similarities, they are not exactly homogeneous. In fact, there are many cultures and subcultures in Africa. First off Africa is a continent made of many countries. The African Union recognizes 54 countries. These countries vary in so many ways that it is virtually impossible to put them all together in one description. Many times people who take a cursory look at Africa tend to think they can apply what they learn about one region, country or community to the entire continent. This approach leads many people in a direction that is incompatible with the true essence of Africa, Africans and their way of life.
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The African continent contains communities that are very industrialized to communities that still live isolated from the world. There are innumerable languages and dialects. There are innumerable lifestyles, religious practices and cultures. Africa as a continent is not a melting pot, but a place of differentiation and cultural mores.
There are some things that are intrinsic to the African experience, that is, the importance of family and community, deep spirituality, an appreciation for nature and an honoring of the Ancestors. Depending on the region, climate and weather, there are festivals that acknowledge the harvest, the weather changes, and various other customs that signify the African’s awareness of their environment and their connection to it.
There are people who are nomadic and they tend to adapt to the environment or are nomadic because the environment is not sustainable enough to inhabit for long periods of time. Even the hunting styles vary from community, village, country to country.
Again, Africa is not homogeneous, and while researchers and pundits may wish to identify Africa as one conglomerate of people, some often don’t even realize that Africa is a continent and not a country, it is virtually impossible to place Africa and its people under one umbrella.
One thing that is certain, everything that they do has purpose and meaning. Masks are made for specific purposes, certain words are used to describe certain things for a purpose. Relationships are purposeful and leadership is accountable.
Before the advance of western civilization into the African experience, the elders were revered and the children belonged to the entire community, every adult male is a father and every adult female is a mother to all the children. Extended families and polygamy (polygny) is quite ordinary in most societies and there is also a smattering of polyandry where the women have more than one husband.
The priests and priestess, elders and wise men and women have a high position in African society across the board, and are respected.
Beyond that the customary way that these social norms are displayed vary from community to community, village to village and in some instance country to country, although, that is even stretching it a bit too far.
When people begin to discuss and even study African culture, they are remiss to attribute a general broad brush to Africa, because it simply is impossible to do so. Over the past few years there have been several African leaders who wanted to Unite Africa under one umbrella, calling it the united States of Africa. Muamar Gaddaffi had that in mind as well, but, without understanding the extreme diversity of the many peoples who inhabit the African continent, what you typically get is an elite group of elite officials who decide what is best for “ALL” of the African people. History has shown even with institutions like the UN or the EU, that it is still very difficult to place a single umbrella over a very diverse group of people.
I would also like to mention that, in regard to this article, the focus is more on West African style of dress. As you can see in my slideshow, that there are different styles of dress across the continent, and while West African style may be prominent or even more popular it does not represent the entire scope of African attire. It simply has become more popular in the eyes of the Western World who view it, with the same lens they tend to view most things, that is, they tend to pigeon hole and homogenize their perspective rather than take a look at the diversity. For some reason this diversity, makes it hard for them to understand what they are looking at so they make it easier for them to digest by painting the continent with a broad brush.
The Africans in Diaspora throughout the world also represent a hodgepodge of diverse cultural practices, languages and lifestyles. Then when they migrate to other countries they tend to imbue some of the cultural norms of their new homes, while attempting to hold on to that which they have left behind.
African people from all over the continent have been the brunt of ridicule and racism for at least the past 400 years. This was primarily done to justify slavery. But as I have stated before, if anyone wishes to build an empire they would not enlist the services of non-skilled labor to help them do so. So to think that the Africans that were brought out of Africa to build the “new land” were ignorant and unskilled is a misnomer that needs to be eradicated from the annals of history. Unfortunately, the Western society and its educational systems have done their level best to perpetrate the falsity that African people were ignorant savages, who knew nothing and had to be trained like animals. But, quite the contrary, they had to be divested of what they already knew and implanted with the spurious belief that African civilization, culture and mores were inferior to that of the European.
Even in some of the commentary that I receive under some of my videos, it is plain and obvious that people are simply ignorant of the facts and the contributions that Africans and Africa have given to the world. But that is another video and I won’t go into that right here. But, instead, I will acknowledge that their ignorance is not really their fault, if they were not taught any different, than how can they know any different? Therefore it’s imperative for Black History, African History to be taught all year round as a significant part of the educational curriculum in the schools so that they can be informed of the true contributions that Africa and its people have given to the world.
The invaders found artisans, craftsmen, iron workers, gold smelters, brick layers, masons, farmers, mathematicians, scientists, herbalists, educators, ministers, priests, astronomers, and even magicians when they came to Africa. The idea that the Africans they encountered there were ignorant and uneducated has altered the world view of the African over the past 4-500 years and has cause a great deal of ignorance to prevail around the subject of Africa and its people.
Today, a certain curiosity has developed when it comes to understanding Africa and its people. However, as it becomes more and more mainstream, my concern is that even this curiosity will devolve into the same pattern of painting Africa and its people with a broad brush. To understand the African, you must immerse yourself in their culture, social mores and lifestyles. But, it has to be a specific attribution to a specific territory or region rather than using the “melting pot” scenario. It’s a big bite and a long chew, but I would suggest a more localized study of a particular region and especially through their native tongue if you wish to understand them. Otherwise, you will make many mistakes and in some instances offend the indigenous African who knows full well his own culture and that what they do in Swaziland is not what they do in Nigeria! With that being said, let’s go on to the article.
Here it is important to note that the term “dashiki” is a Yoruba word references to the garment worn by men. The garment that is worn by women is called a Buba. The man’s garment is longer while the women’s garment is shorter. Cultural appropriation of this garment can be scene across the African landscape and the diaspora in a variety of patterns and fabrics with the Angelina print reaching its hayday in the 1960’s and having a resurgence in the late first decade of the 21 century. In fact, various African prints have been used to accentuate several fashion styles and modeling runways. The customary styles found most prominently in Nigeria and Ghana have become forerunners as their acceptance as traditional African garments are most popular.
It was once noted to me from an indigenous African, that the garment and patterns themselves mean nothing compared to the individual who’s wearing them. That is, at certain festivals one may notice that everyone is wearing the same or similar print garments. The individuals wearing these garments are empowered by their own essence and do not squabble about how another may be wearing the same print. The uniformity may have Westerners shying away from “looking like” or wearing something that is the same as another. Vying for their own uniqueness, they often miss that it is the wearer and not the garment that is unique.
Also, the larger more flowing garment worn by men in Nigeria is called “Agbada” or if worn by women is called the “grand Buba” and the “Ntoma” or large wrapped garment is worn by both men and women in Ghana West Africa. The shorter version of Dashiki in Ghana has been referred to as “batakari” but Ghanaians will also call the men’s top a Dashiki. Additionally, the wrap cloth worn by women is called a “lapa” by many Ghanaians or in their language “atade” or small cloth.
Once you align yourself with the style it is also important to know the country from which it is herald. Africans among themselves are quite aware of the distinctions between cultures and styles. They can identify one another based on what they are wearing. However, within the confines of cultural appropriation and a bit of naiveté, a mixing of cultural styles of dress will be seen particular in popular modern fashions.
Again we see a variety of head wear or coverings that bespeak a continent of diverse customs and styles. The customs vary and may demonstrate the various stations in life of the individual who is wearing them. For example, a married man or woman may wear their head covering in a certain way. This lets the community know that they are married. The same is true with those who are unmarried or single.
The head wear symbolizes the complete look, in other words, you are not completely dressed until you have place a “crown” upon your head. Special occasions, festivals and the like will have the attendees wearing a variety of head wear from simple to extravagant.
In fact, in Ghana, West Africa as well as in Nigeria, a single woman will not wear an over garment or “apron” while the married or elder women will do so.
When indigenous Africans see their cultural garments worn by those who are not indigenous they make certain assumptions about the wearer. It is only natural that seeing someone wear your cultural garments in a manner that would be inappropriate within the cultural confines of your particular country, community or village would garner a certain aversion from the observer. In some cases, the observer may even attempt to explain the “appropriate” manner and occasion when such garments should or should not be worn, or simply, shake their heads at the ignorance of the wearer. Some may even go so far as to be offended.
Recently there was a huge outcry about men wearing “skirts” or “dresses” as it was seen through the Western lens, that these garments were mainly worn by women. However, if you go back into human history, and take a look at the clothing styles worn by men, you will find that men have been wearing what appeared to be “skirts” or “dresses” for quite some time. The “pants” as a style strictly for men was introduced over the past few centuries while something wrapped around the waist of a man was more often seen.
In Africa, the idea of using a pattern also was outside of the norm. Men and women sewed and were all considered tailors. In fact, it is quite common to see men sewing particular when it came to the patterns of embroidery that are seen accenting many African prints. It takes a very special skill to create these beautiful “free hand” patterns of embroidery.
The advancement of Islamic or Arabic culture into the African continent has its impact as well in the style of dress and head wear for the men and the women. Interestingly enough, the particular style that is/was worn by the Islamists has much to do with climate and environment. Face coverings, in particular, have been worn by many desert dwellers who are covering their faces to guard against the hot sun and sand. Over time, this style became equated with “Islamic garb” when in fact it is more the garb of a desert dweller or nomadic person.
Huge debates have been waged as to what is and what is not “Islamic” garb and how and who should wear what. But further study and research will bring to mind, that much of what is worn by a people is indigenous to their surroundings and environment and not necessarily due to their religion. Do not be confused by this. There are many people who are Islamic and are quite comfortable wearing Islamic garb in any environment. The Arabic style has become the Islamic style and many will find no difficulty donning these garments proudly and with great reverence. To them, it represents what they stand for and has a unifying effect on those who call themselves followers of the Islamic faith.
What I wish to present in this video is the importance of “knowing” what you are wearing and in that way you can avoid erroneous cultural appropriation. It may seem insignificant to the Western or modern mind, but it means much more than can be stated in a short video on the topic. Take a moment and do your own research. Be aware of the political, economic, cultural and even spiritual significance of the African garments you chose to wear. Educate yourself about the history and purpose of the garments. Empower yourself with this knowledge. And share this knowledge with others.
It is one thing to celebrate African History during Black history month by wearing African garb but I feel that it is most important, that we wear Africa in our hearts instead of simply displaying Africa in our styles and fashions. Let’s preserve the significance, meaning and power behind the garb and revel in the knowledge of the diversity as well as the commonality that we find on the African continent and the African Diaspora.
The Case Against the Invisible Man (A Dream Story)
Today I want to share with you a dream story. I dream often and many times the are like short stories. I have always loved writing and reading short stories so my dreams are my muse.
In this video, I will share with you a dream story called: “The Case Against the Invisible Man”
Before you ask, I want you to know that I do flesh out my dreams stories so that they can flow when telling them to you. I dream in vivid detail but in some instances, it’s more of a knowing than to say that I actually “saw” it in the dream Universe. So to make it a more interesting read, I may had a few details that were there in the dream Universe but not specifically. If you are a dreamer you know what I mean.
This dream story is comedy with a bit of a mature audience content. So be advised, before you share this dream story with your children.
I suggest that the quickest way to evolve in the development of you spirituality is become completely immersed in the dream Universe. There is so much wisdom, knowledge and understanding right there for you. Dreams are Messages from the Soul.
Ms. Halu Synate describes the advantages and disadvantages of having an Invisible Lover.
And finally, the court proceedings.
By all means, enjoy the story, leave your comments below and hopefully you will get a good belly laugh out of it. Thanks so much for listening and thanks for watching.
This story covers the details of a case presented in court, before JUDGE HERKIMER BARTHOLOMEW JOHNSON
US District Court Docket 777555408
Date: January 74, 2018
Court of Common Pleas District 69
City: Moronsville
State: Woodenunoit Township, KS, USA
Residing Judge: Herkimer Bartholomew Johnson Complainant: MS. HALOU SYNATE
Legal Counsel: MS. HALOU SYNATE represents self
Defendant: MR. AJM UNCEEN
Legal Counsel: Unknown. Defendant was unable to secure counsel due to circumstances beyond his control, i.e., he could not appear. _____________________________________________________________________
The Advantages and Disadvantages of having An Affair with An Invisible Man The Advantages:
Has this ever happen to you. Have you ever been ravished by an Invisible Man.
It happens to some of the best of us, and maybe a few of the worst of us, but it can happen and I am here to tell you my story. I have a very intriguing story to tell, I have been having an affair with an invisible man. I mean this man, when he comes over he rocks me in the cradle of love, and I rocks back.
You don’t have to worry about catching any diseases. Or what your body looks like or smells like. You don’t have to fix your hair.
It doesn’t matter what you have on, you can have on all your clothes or none of your clothes.
You can wear whatever you like, new or old. Something flattering to your shape or size or just an old t-shirt with holes in it.
You don’t have to get up and fix it breakfast in the morning or polish his shoes, motivate him or tell him how handsome he is. You don’t have to pay his bills, nurse him to health or protect his fragile ego.
Every once in a while they may get fragile because they want it to seem like you are immensely so charged by their invisibility, that when they come on the scene you can’t help yourself.
So they may need some type of energetic response from you like “oohs” and “aahs” and count your orgasms. They might want to see you move your toosh around a bit, do the sexual dance. The one where you roll your hips around just so he can feel you are dancing for him a little bit. After that you can just lay da fuq there.
He can come at any time. He can come while you are standing in the bank line or talking with someone. He can come when you are fixing dinner for your ownself. Or when you are standing naked in the middle of the floor. He responds to your every wish and will happily oblige you. I even heard that multiple female orgasm causes weight loss. Since he is invisible you can have hundreds in one day!
Now there are some disadvantages but not too many.
He can’t put out the trash or walk the dog, you have to do that yourself.
And, if you are really good at communicating with this invisible man, you might hear him tell you how beautiful you are. He might even tell you he loves you, just to keep you going. So you won’t have any doubt in your mind that you are being ravished by an invisible man who loves you. Now, above all the things that you could possibly enjoy and extremely cherish, is the fact that the invisible man, loves you.
He says, “I might be invisible, but that don’t mean I don’t love you. I’m just invisible.”
One of the Key advantages to this invisibility, you don’t have to deal with the friction, so you can entertain him all the damn day.
And if your invisible man is really talented, he’ll put your ass on a schedule. He will wake you up and tuck you in at night!
The invisible man can keep you aroused all in your sleep. Make you have orgasm all while you are sleeping and you can’t accuse him of rape or molestation or any like that, can’t you see yourself in court, trying to accuse the invisible man? Well maybe not, but I can and that is exactly what I did! Things got out of hand and so I had to take him to court.
THE COURT PROCEEDINGS
Order in the court. Order in the court! All Rise!
“Ma’am………? So it appears that you wish to bring a case before the court, you have an accusation that you would care for the court to address.”
“Yes, I do, your honor. I have a case that I would like to bring before the court.”
“Yes Ma’am, what is it? Please state your case.”
“Well, you see, I want to report a rape.”
“Okay Ma’am, did you do your rape kit? Did you go and get that done?”
“Yeah, I got that done and there were no physical signs of rape.”
“Okay Ma’am, so why are you here if there were no signs of it?”
“Well the only signs I had was that my honey pot was dripping.”
“Okay, your honey pot was dripping, Ma’am?”
“Yes it was, and actually it’s been going on for at least two months, that I have found myself being ravished and it’s happening while I am asleep.”
“Ma’am, you are being raped in your sleep, Ma’am?”
“Yes, it seems that our activities when I am awake are not enough for him, so he continues to get it, to engage, with me, while I am asleep. In fact, he wakes me up, and I always thought that if there’s no consent there, that it could be called rape.”
“Okay Ma’am, you are being approached while you are sleeping. So Ma’am, I am trying to understand what is your case that you wish to bring against this… Who is this person, do you have a name for this person?”
“Well, I have a pet name for him. Because I noticed that when I call his name, he shows up.”
“Ma’am, you are in a relationship with the person that you are accusing of raping you, Ma’am?”
“Well see, what had happened was, your honor, one day I was feeling like I wanted to experiment to see that if I gave him a name, would he come whenever I wanted him to, because before then, he was the one who decided to come visit me. You know sometimes you want a visitor and other times you don’t want a visitor. So I need to be sure that I could control the visits when I wanted them, instead of waiting for him to decide when “he” would visit me. So I gave him a pet name and I’ve been using that name ever since, your honor.”
“Ma’am, do you think this is the right place to plead your case. Maybe you might want to talk to a psychiatrist.”
“No, I don’t need a psychiatrist, I am not crazy. I have been ravished, I have been molested, I have been raped, I have been over taken, I have been possessed, by an invisible man. And I want to plead my case in this court of law, your honor. Because I didn’t mind being ravished when I was awake, but this whole thing about ravishing me in my sleep, and I thought that when you are not conscious and they come and get you, that you can bring a case against them.”
“But Ma’am, you have no proof, the rape kit came back negative, there’s no semen……….…”
“No, that’s right, there’s no semen, but I got plenty of juice to show you. In fact your honor, if you like, I can demonstrate how he does it.”
“Ma’am, that will not be necessary. Thank you. Will you please continue with your story.”
“Okay, well, one day in a small country town known as Moronsville, KS, a tall dark and handsome hunk of a man sat in my living room. Yes he did. And we had a business meeting and so during that meeting, we exchanged loving long glances at one another. I looked at him and he… looked at me.
“Well is he invisible yet?”
“No, no, no, he’s not invisible yet. No, no, no he’s not invisible. He’s not an apparition not just yet, he is in the physical and he is fine as the day is long. Yes, that’s right.
Several years later, I started noticing that he was lurking within the deep recesses and corners of my home.”
“Is he, is he, is he still visible, Ma’am.”
“Oh no, the visible man hasn’t been around since who knows da fuq how long that’s been. Who da fuq knows when the last time his physical ass been here, I ain’t talking about his physical ass. I’m talking about……. Oh, excuse me, pardon my vernacular. No he has not returned in the physical flesh as of yet.”
“Oh, I see Ma’am so continue with your story, it’s quite intriguing.”
“Yes, it is, you can’t even imagine how amazing it is to be ravished by an invisible man. And I have no complaints about being ravished. It’s just when the ravishing continues throughout the day, when I’m standing, when I’m walking, when I’m talking, when I’m working, those moments, when I am a little indispose to entertain my invisible man. Yes, those are the times, when I feel the most vulnerable, and may have him feel like ‘Damn, you mean to tell me that you don’t want me to visit you now?”
“Uh Yeah, I do want you to visit me, I just don’t want you to visit me now.”
“Well, that’s what I asked you, that you don’t want me to visit you now.”
“No, because see, I have things to do, and when you are in there visiting me, I get distracted, I can’t concentrate and all of that. So that’s why it’s best that you come when I’m not doing something.”
That’s how you have to communicate with him, you know, because his feelings will get hurt, if you don’t be nice to him. Although I do have a magic word. It’s like a magic bullet! It’s like a silver bullet! That word right there, all I have to do is say that word and poof! He disappears!
But he ravishes my body, and takes me places I have never been before on the physical plane. Then it got out of hand one day, and that’s why I’m in court, because it got out of hand. It seriously got out of hand, because up until that point I didn’t have no problems with my invisible man. It was going on for years, your honor. I mean, I had no problems with my affair with my invisible man. I didn’t have to worry about his family or his friends, I didn’t have to worry about my family and my friends. Nobody had to know that he was coming to visit me, 4 and 5 times a day. No one knew, it was a secret.”
“But Ma’am, you said he was invisible, though.”
“Yes he is, he can’t help himself, he has to be invisible. He doesn’t want anyone to see him. He’s invisible because he has to be invisible. There’s no way around that.”
“Okay Ma’am, he’s invisible.”
“Yes….!”
“But you are having an affair with him though aren’t you?.”
“Yes, yes I am, it’s a fascinating affair, it’s so amazing, it’s so amazing. I have never had the type of orgasms I have had with this man.”
“Okay….!”
“It may appear a bit strange to you. I understand that, you might think the physical orgasms are much more profound than the orgasms from an invisible man, but I’m here to tell you, having felt what a visible man can do, I tell you right here, and I tell you right now, I prefer the invisible man. Yeah!”
“Okay, Ma’am.”
“Yes so, let me tell you my story. So, it’s been years since he has been in my physical presence. But in the meantime and in between time, he has entertained me from the invisible realm.”
“Okay?”
“Yes I kid you not. In fact, the entertainment is so profound that I am speechless afterwards. In fact, I often fall into a deep hypnotic trance.”
“Okay Ma’am, a deep hypnotic trance you fall into?.”
“Yes, I do, I kid you not”
“Okay, and so after this deep hypnotic trance, how do you feel?”
“Oh, I feel wonderful, I feel wonderful, I feel… oh, I just can’t even describe, it’s indescribable.”
“Okay, so why are we in court Ma’am. If you are having an affair with an invisible man who is making you feel all these kinds of ways, so why are you in court?”
“Well you see, the reason I am in court is because I had read somewhere that, when someone takes advantage of you, if you are sleeping and someone decides to come in there and sit on you and penetrate you, and he didn’t ask you, he kind of got in there, it might be something that I need to have addressed in a court of law.” “Yes Ma’am but didn’t you say that this man is invisible.”
“Oh certainly he is, but does invisibility have anything to do with the law of the land? How does it not apply to him, if he’s visible and he does it or if he’s invisible and he does it? He broke the law and that is my point”
“Okay Ma’am he broke the law.”
“Exactly, this is what I am trying to explain to you. So let me finish my story. So one day we were enjoying ourselves.”
“You were enjoying yourselves?”
“Yes, we were, we were having quite a wonderful time together. And then, he said he wanted to, well you know that thing they do, he said he wanted to do that, and when he did it, OMG, well, I mean after he reached his peak and he released himself, I followed suit and before I knew it I was releasing for 24 hours, afterwards.”
“Ma’am, releasing what?”
“Oh my dear, you don’t want me to be that specific do you?”
“Oh yes, Ma’am, it would help with gathering the evidence in this case, it will help our case and help us determine whether or not the invisible man is guilty of the charges being pressed against him. So we need to have all the facts. So Ma’am, let’s go back to your story.”
“Yes, so he released himself, I released myself but I never stopped releasing, I continued to release for 24 hours afterwards.”
“Okay, were you able to Participate with any of your other activities?”
“Your honor, I think this line of questioning is inappropriate, I mean I don’t wish to override your position as the judge in this hearing, but I’m beginning to think that you are looking more for details about our experiences together, more so than looking at the fact!!! That I was asleep.” ” Well Ma’am the more evidence you give us, the more certain we can be of providing the justice that you seek and deserve.”
“Alright sir, I really don’t want to get into some details because when you asked me about releasing myself, what does that have to do with anything.”
“Well Ma’am, you added that to the story, and so we thought we would engage you and follow along with your story because that’s what you are telling us, that you released yourself.”
“Yes I did, your honor, but that has nothing to do with the fact that I was asleep, and I just finished reading that when someone enters your lair while you are asleep, and takes advantage of you, you can accuse them, take them to court and have them prosecuted. Oh I must admit, too. I am not too sure, but he may be even drugging me. I am beginning to believe during the waking times that he is drugging me, I do tend to think that is exactly what is happening.”
“Ma’am are the drugs invisible too?”
“Well of course the drugs are invisible. How could he, an invisible man, carry a physical drug and give it to me. Seriously judge you should know that. You have been a judge for a very long time. And certain things you should not need to ask. And it would be obvious that if he’s an invisible man, that his drugs are invisible as well. I don’t understand why you are even asking this, the invisibility of his drugs. I am telling you about the effects of his drugs. I’m talking about the effects of his drugs, not the fact of whether they are visible, that’s obvious that they are invisible, obviously!”
“Okay Ma’am, it’s obvious that his drugs are invisible and you are having an effect……….”
“Yes, that’s right, when he drugs me up, I am out of my mind, I can’t think, I can’t walk, I can’t talk, I just fall off to sleep and have the most awesome dreams, but that is irrelevant, the fact that I dream after he comes. But that’s irrelevant to the case here, but what I would like to express and stress is that when he comes….. and drugs me, I found out that that was incorrect, I found out that that was against the law, that you are not supposed to drug somebody and then take advantage of them, and so I wanted to add that, but I don’t know if that’s a different case or anything, or if it’s evidence that you need for this particular case, all I know is that I read up on it.”
“Okay Ma’am, can you please continue.”
“Certainly, no problem, I am saying that I am having an affair with this very awesome invisible man. I had no problem with having an affair with him. It’s been going on for years. Matter of fact it’s been going on for 9 years. Yes, he’d show up in my dreams and ravish me, then he started showing up in my visions, and then the visions got more and more powerful, and before long, he was there all the time.”
“Okay Ma’am so, you’re saying he’s invisible, but you can envision him you can see him, you can actually see him?”
“Yes, I can see him, he’s only invisible to you. You can’t see him.”
“Okay.”
“So I decided to use the term “invisible” just so that “you” could understand why “you” don’t see him. It should make logical sense to anyone who hears this story. You can’t see him because he’s only visible to me.”
“Okay!”
“that’s right! And it’s very true.”
“Yes Ma’am, and so continue.” “So after many years of just showing up in my dreams, he decided to come visit me. Yes he did. And the visits, I must say were quite exquisite, I totally enjoyed them. You see when you deal with an invisible man, it don’t cost as much time in your preparation for him, you don’t have to put on make up. You know, girls like to make up themselves when they are about to have, a visitor. So you don’t even have to shower. You don’t have to polish your nails. Nope, you don’t have to do none of those things. It’s quite an amazing opportunity to just BE YOU! Be yourself, your all beautiful self, it’s an opportunity to just love yourself, you don’t have to worry about being judge for not being pretty enough, or tall enough or, you know, all of those things that women tend to bother themselves with. You don’t have to do any of that, you just be “You”.
“Okay Ma’am.”
“I’ve also lost a lot of weight, at least 30 pounds!”
“Ma’am, we are not here to talk about your weight loss plan.”
“I’m saying it’s quite an intriguing and amazing opportunity to just discover who you are without all the trappings of make-up and jewelry and accessories and smell good stuff, where you just can be in your own smells. If you pass gas, he doesn’t care, and you can release yourself in other ways. It doesn’t bother him. There’s no judging of you or anything that you do. So in that regard, I think it’s quite a healthy relationship to have because you don’t have to be anything but who you are. And who would not want to have that type of relationship with someone?”
“But Ma’am you’re in court accusing him of raping you. And so if he’s raping you, how is that…….?”
“Excuse me judge, I just wanted to explain to you that I read that anybody who comes to you and attempts to have sex with you while you are asleep that is a form of rape.”
“Yes Ma’am it can be considered that. Did you ask him to leave or anything? Did you demand that he stop? Did you call the police?”
“Well, your honor, I have to admit that, No, no and no. But I still feel that I have a case because of what I read on the internet, it’s considered rape.”
“But you didn’t ask him to stop, you didn’t demand that he leave, and you didn’t call the police to report this crime that was being waged against you.”
“No your honor, I did not. No I did not. It never occurred to me until after I read the article on the internet.”
“Okay Ma’am you read the article on the internet.” “Yes I did, I read it on the internet and it said that…… And not to mention those drugs, he drugs me every time. Yes he does. I tried to keep my mind open. He’s almost like Bill Cosby with the Quaaludes.”
“Ma’am we are not talking about the Bill Cosby case today, okay?.”
“I’m just saying, isn’t that what Bill Cosby did, he rendered them asunder by giving them drugs. Yes, that’s what he did, I know about that. Terrible man that he is.”
“Ma’am, we wanna keep ourselves focused on this particular case right here with your particular situation.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind focusing on my situation I just want you to know that I am aware of other situations that are similar to mine. The only difference is that the man who’s giving me the drugs is invisible, that’s the only difference, I don’t see how anything else can be different. I don’t see it at all. They come to you, they visit you, right. They invite you to come visit them. They invite you to come and play with them, all of that good stuff. And then, once they’ve gotten your trust, they go for the kill. That’s what I’m talking about. I was under the impression that he ws a nice guy and all his wondrous invisibility, and those brown eyes of his.”
“Ma’am how do you know what color his eyes are? If he’s invisible, how do you even know?”
“Oh I told you already. Your honor, You’re not doing your job very well, you’re not a very good listener. I already told you that “you” are the only people who cannot see him. I can see him. Exactly, your honor, I can see him!”
“Okay, Ma’am you can see him, but nobody else can?”
“No Of course not, your honor, that is why I am here. Because if no one else can see him, this would be an unbelievable story. No one would believe me, unless I took him to court, that’s why I am here, I need to take his ass to court. That’s what I need to do”
“Okay Ma’am you need to take him to court. “
“Exactly he needs be in front of you, your honor so he can plead his case because he’s guilty as hell.”
“Ma’am So let’s look at this again, what is he guilty of?”
“He’s guilty of taking advantage of…… I said this already, your honor you’re not doing your job, you’re not doing your job. Is there anyway I can get another judge for this case, because I am really beginning to be concerned that this judge is not doing a good job of listening to me. I’ve explained to him my issues and my story and he’s asking me questions about things that I already told him. I don’t understand what his problem is.”
“No Ma’am, sorry about that, the judge you got is the judge you keep. You can’t be exchanging judges. You can throw out your lawyer, but you can’t throw out the judge. Sorry about that Ma’am, so continue.”
“Okay, well I thought this was justice, but obviously it’s not. When it comes to the judges they get to do anything they wish. So I want to talk again about the aspect of being drugged, drugged, continuously drugged. I begged him, I said please, don’t knock me out.”
“Oh Ma’am we need to go back to the color of his eyes.. Are you gonna explain to us how you know the color of his eyes?”
“Yes, I know the color of his eyes, they’re…… Your Honor, I already explained that to you. If I can see him, than surely I can see what color his eyes are! They’re brown and beautiful.”
“Okay Ma’am if you say so.”
“I say so. But I still do not know why that is relevant. I have explained to you my story, and how he has taken advantage of me. I am in this court before you your honor, because I want to get justice. This man has entrapped me, ensnared me, pulled me into his invisible charms. He has drugged me and left me in a hypnotic trance. Then I read on the internet that this behavior is criminal and I would like to know, your honor, what are you going to do about it? He needs to be prosecuted to the full extent of the law!”
“Well Ma’am, I must say that your situation is quite different from any that I have ever seen in my long history of being a judge. We have often had cases where the defendant did not appear. However in your case the defendant seems to be incapable of appearing as he seems to choose not to. If that be the case, what can we do? We do not have invisible guards who can put invisible handcuffs on him and take him to an invisible jail. What would you suggest that we do?”
“Well, I don’t know what you can do. I only know that I have a case, and that I have followed due process in presenting it to you, and now you are asking “me” what to do? I am curious as to how you even became a judge, much less remain a judge for such a long time. Are your constituents aware of your ineptitude?”
“Ma’am have you ever heard of contempt of court?”
“Well, yes, I have heard of it, but I’m not too sure exactly what that means. What does that mean, your honor?”
“It means that if you continue to insult me, I can have a visible guard, place visible handcuffs on you and take you off to a visible jail.”
“Wow, really your honor? You mean to tell me that with all the evidence I have presented to you, that you would find me guilty of a crime and not the accused?”
“Well Ma’am unless the accused can appear in court before this bench, you my dear, will have to bare the brunt of any inappropriate behavior, language and innuendos about my authority, etc. Since he is not here challenging my authority and you are, it would be perfectly legal for me to charge you and have you committed. So I would strongly suggest, that you proceed cautiously from this point further in the manner that you address me. Is that understood, Ma’am?”
“Yes, I understand. I certainly do understand. I also see that the scales of justice are a bit out of balance and that my case is not going to receive the justice I desire and deserve.”
“Well Ma’am here is what I can do for you. If he can make an appearance in this court 5 days from now, we will review his defense and make a decision. Until then, your story is quite unbelievable, so I strongly suggest that you be very cautious about entertaining him in the future. Court dismissed!”
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The Spanish American War took so many of our men away. We were not certain if they would ever return home. In fact, the idea was rarely spoken of as that may have lessened the bravery of our loyal soldiers. They were fighting for a cause, a cause that seemed so far removed from their every day life, yet so insurmountable that none but the totally cowardice would question the need to go off to a foreign land to fight an unknown enemy.
My husband, Señor Miguel was very, very dedicated to his country and its cause. It seemed to be a strong influence in all that he did and in the military he had achieved high honors. He was well respected and clearly one of the strongest men in the Spanish Infantry. Though he had long since declined from active fighting his influence was felt far and wide and as a result had gain much wealth. As his wife, it was tradition that I should carry myself with the utmost modesty. This required that I never travel alone and much of the time was spent behind the closed doors of our villa.
When it became apparent that I should travel to take care of the business of our estate, our horse trainer, Alejandro would carry me in a black carriage with covered windows to my destination. Our Coachman and horse trainer, remained with us for many, many years. He came to us during his youthful days and remained till my death. His gracious and respectful manner gave him a prestigious position among our servants. He became quite adept at handling the horses and was often sought after by others to teach and train their Coachmen and horsemen.
Señor Miguel was quite fond of him and often confided many of his worries to him. There were times when it seemed there was no place for me between them, they shared the deepest male bonding that no women could interfere with. Settled in my role as woman of the house and wife of an esteemed soldier, little was needed to bring any other recognition.
Unfortunately, the loneliness and barrenness left me quite often speaking with servants and seeking their comfort as the years ebbed on. Then the day came, when Señor Miguel was called away. The Spanish American War had become the greatest threat to the Spanish Empire, and while he was much older than many of the other fighters, he insisted that he be enlisted to go and fight for his country and her territories. There was no discussion, nor had there ever been. He left and after nearly 5 months he returned home. But, to my dismay he was terribly injured. He had suffered a gruesome wound that left him paralyzed from the waist down. A tall, strong, tawny skinned man had become weakened to his core. His attitude changed abruptly. He was totally unrecognizable and remained that way till his death, 10 years later.
In fact, he had become unbearably mean, caustic, angry and incensed. The slightest thing that went awry would send him into a severe frenzy of throwing things and screaming with a deafening shrill. A great man had become a broken man. His wealth meant nothing, in fact, the losses for Spain were so insurmountable, that it sent the whole country into economic chaos. While this war was short, many of the Spanish territories in the west had been lost to the Americans. The shame and disgrace was unbearable for many, and some went so far as to commit suicide. Who could bare this shame.
Señor Miguel, totally committed to the Spanish Monarchy could see no way for himself, his family or his possessions. He constantly moaned, grieved and feared that one day, he would be presented with the document stating that all his possessions had to be turned over to the government. That day never came, but it was the dark ominous fear that clouded the entire villa. Many of our servants were released from service as we could no longer afford to keep them in our employ. But Alejandro, he refused to leave the side of his beloved Master. And there he stayed.
With Señor Miguel being incapacitated it required that I travel even more often. There was still plenty of business to take care of though our resources had depleted sizably. Alejandro was there, and willing and ready to take me wherever was necessary. Our stables had decreased quite noticeably, many of the horses sold. The grounds of the villa were left unattended for many days and lost their pristine beauty over the ensuing 10 years of our financial decline. Nevertheless, Alejandro, in his loyal and respectful manner, continued on with us.
I looked forward to the ride to town. The countryside was quite breathtaking and the rhythmic sound of the horses hoofs offered a calmness, a peace, a distraction from what was going on at home. Alejandro would gently and respectfully lift me in and out of the carriage. His tall stature and stark handsome features could not go unnoticed. Truly, he was the carnal desire of any young woman who laid eyes upon him. He dared not return their gaze keeping himself and his loyalty in perspective.
Today, things change, for all three of us, me, Señor Miguel and Alejandro. While purchasing some needed items from the village store my eyes meet another in a tight and unmovable gaze. A gentleman of a social stature I had not seen in many, many years. It had been believed that our countrymen had lost so much of their wealth they were barely above being peasants. But this gentleman was dressed in the finest apparel, carrying a walking stick engraved from elephant’s tusks. Smooth and shining, I wondered why he did not send one of his servants into the market to gather up what he needed.
“Mi Señora”, he says as he tips his hat towards me. He is dressed in an all black riding suit. His strong legs were visible through the tight leggings and his boots shone like he had never mounted a single stallion.
“Greetings”, I shyly respond hoping he had not noticed that I had taken in his whole figure. And that figure moved me, and cause a stirring in my feminine area I had not felt since the day of my marriage. How is this possible? He is a perfect stranger, yet I am feeling myself moving on the inside and swaying on the outside. I lower my gaze as to avoid any other conversation that would draw me into his eyes and pull me away from my errand.
“What a beautiful day we are having and how much more beautiful it is that you have graced it, Mi Señora. May I inquire, what name may you be called by?” And he reaches his hand out to take mine.
Instinctively I give him my hand and respond, “Isabella”.
“Ah, and the name of our great Queen, you my dear, bring even more beauty to that name and that legacy.” He kisses the back of my gloved covered hand. This kiss sent heat through my entire body. I could feel his breath through my glove and though only for a minute it seemed an eternity.
“Thank you, Señor.” I respond.
And to be polite, I ask, “And what might be the name you are called?”
“Hmmmm, you are interested in knowing my name? How shall I suggest this to you? Oh, I know, I will tell you my name upon our next meeting.” He gingerly releases my hand, and turns to leave the market.
I stand in the market, wondering what just happened. Who was he, and why did he make me feel that way? It would have been totally inappropriate for me to inquire of the shop-keeper, so I finished purchasing and left the market. I boarded the carriage, and rode home, quietly distracted by this encounter. The hoofs of the horses gave me not the solace of earlier times. I could barely hear them, as my heart was now beating louder than their struts. Next meeting? How is that possible? When could that be? And if so, how would he have arranged that he would see me again. My mind is racing and I am totally uncomfortable in the carriage. I am anxious to get out and settle myself with some warm tea.
As we near the villa, Señor Miguel is screaming again. My heart breaks for him, for he is chair bound and can barely do much of anything for himself any more, maybe I was away too long. I hurry to attend to him.
For ten nights and ten days, I am pacing, back and forth, getting up in the middle of the night because I can not sleep. Sitting on the terrace outside of my bedroom looking at the stars and wondering, when will I see him again?
It’s time to go back to the market. This time I am traveling there full of anticipation. I no longer hear the hoofs of my carriage steeds but the beating of my heart. I am filled with excitement, will I see him again?
As I leave the carriage, I hear a voice call out to me!
“Señora Isabella, you have arrived! Have you any idea how long I have awaited your arrival? Of course not, what would you think that I should wait for you for 10 days to return to the market.”
His words wash over me like a cool summer rain. I smile and lower my gaze and enter the market. I can see a peripheral view of him, he is mounted on the most beautiful black stallion. And again, the leggings outline the contour of his strong, powerful calves. I am awkward and flustered. I am embarrassed and extremely exposed. I hide under my hat and enter the market. He quickly dismounts and comes directly into the market after me, pushing pass Alejandro who has always accompanied me into the market to carry my purchases. But this day, this stranger interrupts.
“How are you today, Mi Señora?” He asks.
“I am well, and how are you?” I respond politely.
“I am better than I have been over the past ten days. I have awaited your arrival. Why did you make me wait so long?”
“My kind Señor, I had no intention of making you wait. It is customary that I come to the market when the need arises. There was no need until this day, and as you can see, I am here to take care of that.” I didn’t mean to sound curt or impolite, but I am having much difficulty with this stranger who speaks to me as if he has known me for many, many years.
“No problem, Mi Señora, I am sure you have your responsibilities and since I had not ask that you make meeting me again as one of them, I am certain that you had no idea I wanted to see you again.” He responds confidently. “And” he says as he takes my hand and kisses it, “Did I not say, that I would tell you my name when we met again?”
The heat is moving through my body, like before, and I am more than ready to run out of the market and seek shelter in my carriage. I can suggest that Alejandro carry on, I can pretend I am not feeling well, or am faint. Yes, that would be perfect.
“Mi Señora, have you gotten lost in your thoughts of running away from me? Have you gotten a plan on how you will do that in such a way that it would be barely noticeable by me? Do you think that your flight will stop the movement in your soul? Besides, you cannot depart until I come with the promise. Surely a gentleman such as myself should make good on a promise made to such a lovely Señora as yourself. Um, Señora Isabella??? Ah yes, of course, I would call you no other name..”
He is holding my hand, gently, not forcefully, but it feels as though I cannot release my hand from him. His kiss on my hand seems to linger for much much more than a few seconds. As he raises his head he catches my eyes in a powerful stare and speaks smoothly, “My name is Martin, Martin del Castillo. You’ve heard of me, yes?”
I nod, knowingly, of course I had, who hadn’t. One of the biggest land owners in all of Spain. In fact he owned the Castle only a few miles away from our villa. But I had never seen him, so I had no idea of what he may look like. And if he is Martin del Castillo, then why was he not accompanied by his driver and servants, but escorting himself to the market like a common man?
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Señor Martin. I do hope you have a good day. I must attend to my errand. Thank you.” I respond abruptly as if some very impolite monster had come over me, something that wanted to kill this moment, hoping it would be so dead it could never be revived again. How is it that this man has been waiting for me to return to market for 10 days??
“I have just returned from Africa. There is much there to do and many holdings to take care of. The trading was quite lucrative but sometimes I like to come to a small market with familiar people and familiar faces, so that is why I am here. When I saw you ten days ago, I knew I wanted to see you again, so I inquired about you. It seems you tend to arrive here every ten days or so. I sent a messenger to determine if that were true and found it to be so. Now, have I answered all your questions?”
The arrogance and confidence in his voice was almost annoying. I felt betrayed, for the only one who would know my travels was Alejandro, why would he reveal that to this perfect stranger? Ah yes, I can only imagine there was some bribe of some sort, maybe another horse for the stables?? I will ask him as soon as we return home, but now I am glaring accusingly at Alejandro. He smiles and looks away, knowing that he has been revealed. Surely it was harmless, as far as he is concerned. Not for me!! I am racing between fury and exhilaration. What if I returned here and he was not here to meet me and tell me his name.
Thereafter, every ten days we arrive at the Market and Señor Martin is there. He does the exact same thing every time. He waits mounted on his steed till our arrival. When we arrive he comes over to the carriage, helps me out, kisses my hand and guides me into the market. And during the days in between, I toss and turn and frantically wonder why my body is on fire with a longing I had never felt before.
Today, it changes. Today, he invites us to his Castle for some tea and a light dinner. I quickly refuse, as I shudder out, “Oh no, that would be most unacceptable. We cannot tarry long. I must return home quickly.”
“And why?” he asks as if to say, what is there for you at home?
“Because that is what I must do.” I respond with a sudden confidence, that it even shocked me. Then I wonder why I did not mention my husband to him, surely that is the best and most important reason to return home quickly.
“Hmmm, you seem a bit more anxious to get away from me, than to get home. Am I reading this correctly? Surely you have to be a little curious about where I live?”
“No, I am not curious about you, or where you live. Thank you.” And I turn and quickly walk away. I am being rude, I am being obstinate, but how did he know my innermost desire, my innermost fantasy, my deepest secret? Yes I wondered where he lived, yes, I wanted to go there, and yes I wanted him to hold me in his arms. I shake my head in shame. This cannot be happening, nor should it be.
“Why should you be ashamed? You have done nothing, absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.” He responds as if he read my thoughts as soon as they passed through my mind, and how is that? I feel exposed, naked.
“Alejandro, I do believe it is time for us to leave.”
” Mi Señora, we have not gotten all of our purchases.”
“Don’t bother me with that, let’s go, now!!!”
Alejandro, follows my orders, as he has always done, and we return to the carriage. We ride off. I can feel his eyes piercing my soul and I don’t like that!! I decide to go back on the 11th day. He will not have me so predictable. I shall not be under his spell, his gaze and his mind reading.
On the 11th day, I give some weak excuse as to why I missed day ten, and return to the market. When we arrive I do not see him, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I dispatch from the carriage with Alejandro at my side and walk up the steps to the market door. The curtains are drawn and that’s unusual, it is as if the market is closed today. I reach for the door and it opens and there he is, standing there, smiling brilliantly and hypnotically. I am flabbergasted, how did he know? Why is he so insistent? It feels so uncomfortable, I feel so awkward. I just brush past him and walk over to the counter to make my purchase.
“Today is a beautiful day, Mi Señora, and you have made it even more beautiful. Tell me, is this the day that you will come to have tea and a light dinner with me at my Castle?? Yes, oh please say yes. You will be most pleased there and so will we. To have you as a guest would be a great honor. None that I have had in such a very, very long time. Please, Mi Señora, do not refuse me. I have waited 11 days for your return.” With this he takes my hand and kisses it, but he doesn’t let it go. He doesn’t let me go. I cannot refuse.
Every 10 days, we go to the Castle. The time spent there becomes longer and longer. One day, Señor Martin sends Alejandro back to our villa, and promises to have one of his Coachmen carry me back. He gives Alejandro so many bribes, that he can barely refuse. Somehow, Alejandro manages to get back without Señor Miguel noticing that I am not with him.
I am carried home every ten days, but only after Señor Martin ravishes me. I am weak and unable to resist him. He is strong and powerful in his intent towards me. I felt it from the first day, and now, as I lie beside him in his bed, I am too sure that I have fallen in love with this wondrous experience. My journeys home become later and later. I must tell him that I am married.
Today is the day, I tell him, and he responds, “Do you think I did not know that?”
“But you never asked, so I assumed you must have thought I was not married.”
“My dear Señora Isabella, I am not a commoner. I am well aware of the appropriate manners a man should have with a woman. To ask if you are married would mean that I am aware that you are married and that, my dear would put me in violation. Therefore, I did not ask. You see? Now, I ask you, do you love me?”
“Of course I do!” I respond before I could think about it.
“Then if that is true, you must leave your husband and come live with me.” He demanded.
This response shocks me. Leave my husband? Surely he knows that I am being unfaithful to our marriage vows. Upon my return home my husband never ever asked. He seemed resolve to let it happen. We never discussed my late arrivals. Alejandro continued to come home without me, and I continued to arrive home in one of Señor Martin’s carriages. Surely he knows, but to leave him??? How could I do such a thing, knowing that he is an invalid and cannot care for himself?
I respond, “Señor Martin, that is totally out of the question. Unthinkable. I cannot leave him, he needs me. I am dedicated to him. I cannot leave him alone. I am all he has in this entire world.”
“Good excuses but not valid ones. You would rather be with someone who can do nothing for you, than be with me, who can offer you more than you could ever desire?? We have great passion do we not?”
“Yes.” I respond, “Of course we do.”
“Then what more could you possibly want? If you wish, I can arrange for a caretaker for him. Since he cannot do anything for himself, he needs a caretaker. I can arrange that, and then you can be free to come and live with me. Please do not make me wait for ever, or until he dies. He may never die!! He may not ever allow you to leave him. I will live, alone till you return to me. Do you hear me? That is my promise to you. I will live alone until that day when you return to me for ever. You think it over.”
Of all the times we had our exchanges, I never saw this vulnerable side of him. He had let his guard down and told me clearly that he would not marry another but wait for me or be lonely his whole life. What could I do with that information? What could I say?
This time when I returned home, I told my husband that I was having a personal engagement with Señor Martin. Señor Miguel nods as if he knew and looks down at his lifeless legs and says, “My dear, I cannot fulfill you, I cannot do anything for you or even myself. Therefore, though I know that you are going to the Castle I cannot stand in your way. I cannot stop you or stand in the way of you receiving what you desire as a woman. Since this is true, I have nothing to say except, please, do not leave me. I can wait for you to return home, but I will surely die if you never do.”
I am struck. Unbelievable, he knew the entire time, but never said a single word to me about it. In fact, his whole attitude seemed to become more amenable. He had fewer outburst and was less caustic towards the few servants we had left. We were able to keep a few servants and particularly, Alejandro, and he never questioned him about why he returned without me, though he knew.
Upon my return to the Castle I say to Señor Martin; “Beloved, while I cherish you, my husband needs me. He has agreed to allow me to continue to see you, with no question, but only that I never leave him. Can you understand that? Can you still love me? I am only true to you, there is no other. But my husband would not concede to a caretaker. It is all that I can do. I love you, but I am dedicated to him, my husband.”
This day, my Señor Martin is crestfallen.
He holds me tightly in his arms and weeps. How can I deny him? How can I hold on to a loveless lifeless marriage when he had so much more to offer me? He held me through the night. When the dawn came he could barely let me go. He appeared tortured and broken. I did not realize how deep his love for me had been till this moment, watching him in the early morning sunlight.
As usual I was carried home.
We had several visits after this day. Then he received a letter calling him to Africa. He would be gone for at least 30 days. He would contact me immediately upon his arrival back at the Castle.
When that day came, I could barely wait to see him. I dressed up in my finest and asked Alejandro to carry me directly to the Castle. I no longer need the Market as an excuse. When I arrive at the Castle I was met with an unpleasant surprise. Señor Martin did not come to the carriage to retrieve me. He was not waiting in the foyer to receive me.
“Mi Señora, he is upstairs, awaiting your arrival.” One of his servants reports to me.
I ran upstairs. He was lying in bed. He did not look well at all. He was sweating and feverish. I rush over to him and hold him in my arms,
“Oh my dear, you are ill, what happened to you? Why are you sick? Oh my God!!”
He speaks to me, barely in a whisper, “My trip to Africa. There is some mosquito there that gives you a terrible sickness. I do believe I have gotten it. This sickness is serious, Mi Señora, many have died from it. I am having the finest doctors attend to me, but I am not sure if they have a remedy that will keep me alive much longer.”
“No, no, no, please don’t say these things, please, this cannot be, it cannot happen. I will stay here with you until you get better, I will not leave your side. I promise you, I will never leave you again, never. Please, you must fight this, you must get better!”
With a voice, weakened and barely audible, he says, “Mi Señora, I will do my best, but I am feeling extremely week and I am aching all over my entire body. It is practically unbearable. I love you, thank you.”
And with that, he rests his head on my bosom as I lie beside him. It doesn’t take long, within 30 days he expires.
Now, I am crestfallen.
I have lost the greatest love I have ever had in my entire life, now he lies dead, in my arms. I weep profusely, uncontrollably and for what seemed to be hours. How could this be? Why did they take him away from me? What am I going to do now?? My head aches from crying yet I cannot stop. I refuse to let them remove his body. I hold him for three days…. Each day hoping he would open his eyes, Yet nothing. He is stiff and lifeless and dead!!
After the burial, I call Alejandro to come and carry me home. And as the loyal servant he is, he comes to get me, says very little to me and attends to me. When I enter the house,, Señor Miguelis there sitting where I left him, as if he never moved for the entire time I was at the Castle. He just sat there, waiting. I could barely approach him. I walked swiftly by him and to my room. There was nothing left in me to give, nothing, I was empty.
The nights turn into days the days into nights, and I am lost in my own misery, grief and sorrow. So lost that I cannot attend to myself, or my husband. I do not come out of my room for 7 weeks. Alejandro brings me hot tea each morning and a few crackers encouraging me to eat something, but I cannot eat, I cannot sleep, I can only stare out of my bedroom window. How could this be? How could I lose such a wonderful opportunity to a miserable choice? How is it that duty, obligation, and dedication brings such a dastardly reward. I have lost my lover and I am left with an ailing husband whom I must care for for the rest of our lives.
I am cursed, I am besmirched, I am denigrated I am castigated, I am dead!!!
Every morning there is a quiet knock on the door and Alejandro brings me tea and crackers. His gentle nature and warmth makes the days easier to bare, but not so much. I cannot rest my thoughts and memories. I am chastising myself for my indiscretions from the very beginning. Had I not ventured out, I would not have even known of Señor Martin, I would not have tasted such passion, I would not be dying in my own skin now.
The days wore on and every morning a gentle knock would come to the door, and Alejandro would bring me a cup of warm tea and crackers.
This morning was different.
“Mi Señora,” he says.
“Yes, Alejandro”
“May I come in for a few minutes. I have something I think you should know.”
“Yes, what is it.”
“Over the past several weeks, I have noticed that Señor Miguel is growing ever so slight and pale. He is barely eating and just sits and stares at the wall. He does not speak, he does not move, he makes no requests and makes no indication that he is even aware that I am present. I am very much concerned about him, Mi Señora. We used to talk and share little stories, but he is eerily quiet of late.”
“Alejandro, what shall I do for him? I can barely do anything for myself. I am stricken with grief and sorrow. The only true love I have ever had in my life has left me. What can I give to Miguel, what can I give to anyone?”
“Mi Señora, I do fully understand your grief. When I was a young child I lost both of my parents in a boating accident, remember? That is when Señor Miguel took me in and gave me a place to live and work to do. I wept for days and he gave me joy. He was like a father and a friend. So I share your sorrow. I only wish that I could bring some of the joy I received to you. I wish that you were able to receive it. I am a young man now, I am quite able to take care of myself, and I am aware of what I am to do as a man. I only wish to be of service to you.”
“Alejandro, I am hearing you, but I am not sure about the words I am hearing from you. Are you speaking of being a comfort to Señor Miguel as he has been to you?”
“Yes, Mi Señora, but I also want to be a comfort to you.”
“Alejandro, and how do you propose to do that. I am inconsolable at this time. Other than a cup of warm tea and crackers, what else is there that you can do or be, might I ask?”
” Mi Señora, I know that you are in a sad state, full of grief and sorrow. I share your sorrow and I share your pain. But I know that I can help you, if only you would allow me to.”
With these words, he moves closer to me. I am standing with my back towards him, staring out of the window. I feel the warmth of his body very close behind me. He places his hands on my shoulders and brings them down towards my hands. He holds them and draws closer to my body. I am completely confused as emotions rush over me. I had never really seen Alejandro as more than a young man and servant. A young man, certainly dedicated to our family, but what is this? I abruptly move away from him and towards the chair I had been occupying for several weeks.
“Alejandro, I think you should leave now. I am not sure what you are doing, or how you propose to comfort me, but I am feeling quite uncomfortable and I am sure that Señor Miguel would not be please with your behavior at all. Please remove yourself. Have a good day.”
Before I could finish, he had disappeared. He was gone so swiftly it was as if he knew what I was going to say before I said it. This is simply not the time to give me another emotional upset. My heart has not healed. It is in much need of repair. I cannot entertain any new entanglements.
The next morning, the same quiet knock came to the door. Alejandro brought me warm tea and crackers but he uttered not a single word. Not even a “good morning.” I found that strange, strange indeed after his display the day before, but I did not address his impoliteness. I assumed he was feeling somewhat ashamed and so I did not inquire about his conduct that morning.
The ritual continued for several more weeks. I am assuming that Alejandro is taking care of my husband because I could not do it.
One morning, Alejandro speaks.
“Mi Señora, I think you should know something.”
“And what might that be, Alejandro?
“Mi Señora, it seems that Señor Miguel has turned to stone. He is not moving at all. I place my hand near his face and felt no breathing. When I touched him, he did not move, at all. I am afraid he may have died in his sleep. I think he may have died in the chair he has been sitting in for weeks. I think he may have died during the night. I ask that you please come from this room and check on him for yourself.”
“Alejandro, are you sure of this? Or is this some other maneuver to encourage me to leave my room? Are you certain of this? Or, is this some cruel trick you wish to play?” I am sounding quite cruel myself, but at this point, I am not thinking clearly and am barely able to find breath in my own body to speak to him.
“No, Mi Señora, I am quite serious. I do not wish to disturb you, but I feel it is very important that you come to see what may have happened to Señor Miguel. Please pardon me if it seems I am appearing careless.”
“Alright. I will come to see. I doubt there will be much that I can do for him. Especially if he is in the state that you have said he is.” My words leave my mouth like sharpened daggers. I cannot believe my own ears as they escape me. Have I lost all sensibility? Has my own grief and sorrow overshadowed any humanity that I may have? Am I merely an empty vessel, bereft of any feeling for anyone other than my own grief and sorrow? Have I lost who I am in a sinking pool of anger and dismay? Am I no longer worthy of the title, Mi Señora?
“Alejandro, I apologize to you for my inappropriate behavior. You have only shown kindness to me, and yet I have been brief, distant and hurtful towards you. I will gather myself and come down to attend to Señor Miguel. Please give me a few moments for that.
“Certainly, I will await your arrival. I will stand by his side until you appear.”
I am pacing back and forth, forth and back. Is this true? Has Señor Miguel expired as did Señor Martin? Has Señor Miguel expired while I was selfishly tending to my own needs and forgetting my commitment and dedication to him till we die? Have I become so scared, so damaged that I have lost all sense of what it is that I am to do or be as a wife to a man who allowed me to taste the passion I had never had in my life, simply because he could not? Am I so burdened by my own hurt that I have forgotten how he sacrificed his pride, reputation and well being for my happiness? How could I have been so narrow, so distant, so uncaring? I hurry to his side.
As I descend the stairs, I call to him as I draw closer to where he is sitting in his chair. His back is facing me. I cannot see his face as I approach. He appears motionless.
I call his name, “Señor Miguel, Señor Miguel, please forgive me, I apologize from the deepness of my heart for taking so long to attend to you. Please forgive me, that I have allowed my own sorrow to deter me from being the wife to you that I had promised. Please if you could only understand and forgive me, I will never leave your side again.”
He does not stir. As I draw nearer to him a sense of trepidation overwhelms me. It feels like an impending doom. I brush these thoughts out of my head and walk around him and reach to hug him. He is cold as ice. He is very, very motionless. He is not breathing. My fears are realized, he has died, a broken man who lost his wife to another.
“Oh no!!!” I scream loudly… “What has happened to him! Why is he there like that? Alejandro, what did you do to him?”
I am screaming and wailing and screaming and wailing. I sink to my knees in a wrenching puddle on the floor.
“How can this be? Señor Miguel, please, please speak to me, tell me you forgive me, please, I am so, so sorry.” I am rippling in tears, sorrow and more and more grief. Another has died, another has left me, am alone again. What’s to become of this??
“Mi Señora,” Alejandro speaks in a gentle, soothing voice. “You have no need to bury your life in sorrow and grief. It has all come to pass because it was meant to be. I have taken care of him while you were unable to. He never muttered a word of anger towards you. He never said that you had betrayed him. He only spoke of you with loving words. He believed that you would eventually get better and return to him and care for him again.”
“No, Alejandro, no. How can you tell me this? Did you know this the entire time? Or are you still attempting to console me.” I can barely say these words, I am sobbing so hard.
He comes over to me and picks me up from the floor. I am too weak to resist. He carries me up the stairs and back to my room. He lays me down on the bed. And then, he lies there beside me, cradling me in his arms as I wept. He gently brushes my hair from my face, and wipes away my tears. He stays with me the entire night, holding me as I sob uncontrollably. I hold onto him with all the energy I have left to hold on to anything. I am deranged. I am unable to do anything but sob and sob. I doze off only briefly and as the memories come back, the sight of my husband sitting there, lifeless, I begin sobbing again.
The next morning, my eyes are bloodshot and swollen. I am not consoled in the least but now I feel a sense of urgency. I must do my duty and prepare for my husband’s burial. I scamper to my feet and quickly begin to dress. I am oblivious to Alejandro’s presence in the room with me. I bare no shame as I dress in his presence. He gathers himself and leaves the room in an instant.
When I arrive downstairs, he has already removed Señor Miguel’s body and has laid him prone across the window seat. Señor Miguel’s body seems to have frozen in the seated position. Alejandro could barely bring his legs down parallel to the window seat. The usher has arrived and they are preparing to remove his body and bury him on the grounds. Alejandro had already taken care of the arrangements. There was nothing for me to do. I sink into a chair and stare out of the window. I have been relieved of my duties on many levels. The few servants we now have are taking orders from Alejandro. They are scurrying around and seeking to make sure I am comfortable. They ask me endlessly, if there is anything that they can do to help. I am sullen, still and non-responsive. I am finished.
For several days, after the burial, I sit in Señor Miguel’s chair. I gingerly rub the arms of the chair and pray that he has forgiven me. I ask for God to forgive me. I ask God to tell Señor Miguel that I did love him, in my own way, and ask God to tell him, how sorry I am. I beg for his forgiveness as I sit in his chair.
It has become twilight. There is a shadow in the room, but I cannot determine where it came from or how it got there. I turn to accustom my eyes so that I can see more clearly. The light of the full moon is shining through the window. Maybe that is what is casting the shadow. A voice, startles me. I jump out of the chair as it sounds so much like my husband’s voice.
“Isabella, Isabella, my dear wife, please do not mourn my taking leave of this world. It was time. There was nothing I could do for you and nothing you could do for me. It is over. Do not mourn. I love you, Isabella.”
What? Where is this coming from? I am frightened by the sound of his voice. It sounded strong and clear, a voice from him I had not heard in many, many years. Am I hallucinating? I must be. Or maybe I am dreaming.
“Isabella, do you hear me? Can you hear my voice? Look towards the shadow. Can you see me? I am standing here. I have come to put your soul at ease. I have come to tell you that I am better now and at peace. I have come to tell you that you can move on with your life. I have come to tell you that I am pleased that Alejandro will attend to you for as long as is needed. Be not afraid, Isabella, it is I, Señor Miguel.”
I sink back into the chair. The shadow never moved. It stood tall and strong in the light of the full moon, but it never moved. It simply spoke. I cannot describe this experience. I cannot determine if it is real or if I have dreamt it. Can I trust this message? I fall asleep in his chair.
The next morning I awaken. I feel as if a burden has been lifted but I am not certain why. I gather myself and retreat to my room. I freshen up and change and return to the dining area. I have not eaten breakfast in many, many weeks. Our servants are quite gracious, covering their surprise as they serve me my morning meal.
Alejandro appears. He is well dressed and ready for a full day of work.
“Mi Señora, would you care to go into town to the market today? I have the animals fed, brushed and ready to travel if you so desire to take the journey.”
I have an incredulous look on my face. Yes, he is still here and he is still taking care of the affairs of our villa. I am wondering how he has come to that position.
“Mi Señora, while you were away in your room, Señor Miguel bequeath to me certain responsibilities. It was as if he knew he would not survive many more days. He has given me full charge of his financial dealings and business affairs. He has asked me to manage his servants and maintain the ground to the best of my ability. He also said that he would turn ownership of the stables over to me, but that I must promise to stay here and be of service to you. Of course that was a great arrangement that I am more than happy to oblige.
So again, would you care to go to the market and make some purchases. It has been quite a while and the shopkeeper has asked for you many times. I am available to take you, if you would just allow me, and tell me when you would care to go. If you do not wish to go today, I understand that and am available to take you whenever you wish. I do remember how much you liked to go to the market, Mi Señora.”
This is strange. Alejandro appears to have assumed quite a posture of authority. Yet, there was a hint of kindness and concern in his words. I feel a strong sense of release in my heart. It is as if a huge boulder had been removed and I can breathe again. I smile at Alejandro and invite him to dine with me. He graciously obliges me. After our morning meal, I go for a stroll on the grounds. I had not been out of the house for 8 months. Seasons have changed and the grass is growing very tall and very green. I smile again. It feels almost effortless to smile again. Just when I thought all emotion had left me dead, I begin to feel alive. The sun shines warmly on my face. I raise my hands up to the sky and thank God for another chance. Another chance to be alive, to be human, to be caring and quite possibly to allow love into my heart.
The next day, after our morning meal, I announce that Alejandro can dine with me whenever he so desires. It would be my utmost pleasure to share my meal with him. He smiles and graciously accepts my proposal. At the end of the day I retire to my room. I call Alejandro and announce that I would like to travel to the market tomorrow at noon. Again, he smiles and graciously obliges me.
“Yes, by all means, Mi Señora. It will be with great pleasure that I take you to the market tomorrow. Feel free to purchase whatever you care to. Señor Miguel has made certain that all your needs are addressed in total.”
With that he turns and leaves the room. I fall asleep. It is a deep peaceful sleep, like none I have had for several months. I dream of Alejandro.
He is taking me to the market. He helps me into the carriage and as he makes certain I am settled in, our lips brush. His lips are so soft and smooth. I am taken aback as a rush of emotions flow over me. Have I had this feeling all the while?
“Oh, I’m sorry, please excuse me.” I say.”No apology required. All is well, Mi Señora.” he says, and with that he moves closer to my face as if to give me a real kiss not by accident.”Oh, no! We cannot, we cannot do this right now, Alejandro!””Why not?” He says while he leans over me. I am pushed back by some subtle yet unknown force.
“Why not?” He says again, caressing me near my waist and up towards my breast area.
I am speechless but I automatically respond. I gently hold him in my arms and caress his back and shoulders. This has to be a dream, however it is causing me to come to a realization about my emotions that I have felt for him a little better. It’s a admiration bordering on passion. I remember those feelings in this moment. I would often watch his hands as he would brush the horses. I would follow their magical dance across the horses mane. When he would escort me into the carriage, he was ever so gentle and attentive. He would hold my hand as he should but it seemed to feel different. I dismissed this again and again. When retrieving me from the carriage, our bodies would come dangerously close together. Once he did not take my hand but put his hands upon my waist and lifted me to the ground. Our eyes met, momentarily in an revealing instant. I would find myself fantasizing and wondering what it would be like. But I would immediately feel disturbed that I could think such a thing of this fine, handsome young man. He was our servant and surely it would bring disgrace upon us all if anything should come of this.
As he lies on top of my body in the carriage, I look up and it seems to have grown late rather quickly. Then I notice, it’s the shadow of the tree that we are under. With the curtains drawn, I am sure no one can see us. I sigh and give in to the feelings.
“Alejandro, I am a lady. I am your Master’s wife. And yet you are caressing me as though I am your lover. Please, tell me, what is going on inside of your head right now?”
He gently sighs, as if awakened up from a pleasant dream. His head is now lying on my bosom.
“What do you want to know, Mi Señora?’ he whispers.”I want to know what you are feeling right now.””I’m in love with you, Mi Señora.”
“But how is that possible? I am an old lady, much older than you. When did you come to that realization?” I respond incredulously.”I came to that the first day I left you at Señor Martin’s Castle.” He responds, matter of factly, as if he finally figured out what it was that he felt and that he was happy and clear, he was in love with Señora Isabella.
“Oh yes, I remember that. Is that when you realized it? Is that what this is all about?”
He just caresses me and says nothing. But his body language spoke volumes, he finally had the chance to be close to me and share his feelings for me, something he had been feeling for a while and now he could just say so.
“Alejandro, it has been a long time for me, and I am feeling feelings I haven’t felt in a long time. I am nervous and shaking.” My feelings are rushing over me in waves, they are making me nervous and shaky and I feel awkward. How could this be?
“All is well, Mi Señora, we can love each other.” But I am so much older than you, does that not matter?” Yes, it matters to people in this world, but it doesn’t matter to people in my world. We just love whomever we love.” He spoke these words like a true poet.
Inside the canopy of my carriage, that was all that mattered. It was real. We feel it. We are in love with each other. What else could possibly matter??
My mind is racing. First, I realize that while I called it an admiration for Alejandro, the admiration had turned to love. Maybe that’s what it has been all along. Maybe I felt safer calling it a admiration. Something that is quite understandable. He is a caring, attentive, creative soul. I am certain many, many young women have feelings for him.
I am jolted from my thoughtful journey as his hand brushes past my bosom, I shake my head and tremble a little more. These are unexplored emotions for Alejandro. In my head I am running in all directions at once. Am I dreaming? Is it just my imagination…? I’m in two places, maybe three, maybe a hundred places. I am in my carriage and Alejandro is lying on top of me caressing me under the shade of a big tree on a public road somewhere.
“Why does our ages matter, Mi Señora Isabella. Who cares? I do not.”
I question everything, what about the other young women who would most assuredly want to have him as their husband.
Someone knocks abruptly on the window of the carriage. We immediately stop and sit upright across from one another. It is the shopkeeper. He is dressed in an overcoat, hat and seems to be carrying an umbrella and something else in his hands.
“Excuse me, Mi Señora, are you in there? I do hope so, I have been awaiting your arrival for several months now.”
I wonder if he could see into the carriage. I have a rush of emotions from embarrassment to annoyance, because I wanted to see how far we would go. By this time he is comfortably lying on top of me and I am stroking his back and rubbing his hair. I do not respond right away.
I whisper, ” I think you should get out and move the carriage, Alejandro. Please tell the shopkeeper that I will come in soon. Tell him that you were concerned about me since the ordeal I have experienced and you were making sure that I was doing well. Now go, Alejandro!”
“Yes Mi Señora, if you wish I should go, then I will do so.” He smiles and steps out of the carriage.
I step out of the carriage with his help, he is holding my hand, and I can feel the fire, the fire of love and passion streaming through his grip. It is making me a bit shaky and awkward. I wonder what it could possibly mean.
This dream was so real, I could barely shake it off for several days afterwards. I could still feel the weight and the contour of his strong able body atop mine, his breath on my face, the texture of his long black hair, the loud beating of my heart.
One morning, there is that familiar quiet knock at my door. It is Alejandro.
This morning when he enters my room I am standing near the window, looking out at the morning sunrise. He walks up behind me and as before, he places his hands on my shoulders and brings them down to my hands. He pulls me close to him and I exhale.
His warm breath and soft lips brush the back of my neck. Then he lovingly whispers in my ear. ” Mi Señora, I thought you might like to have a bit of warm tea and crackers before we have our morning meal. Would you mind if I join you?”
“No, my dear Alejandro, I would not mind at all. Please join me.”
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This is a story of a man who fell in love with a beautiful nurse who had a very dark secret.
In the beginning of this dream I am in this man’s body. Throughout the dream I move to being an observer and back to being in his body.
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I am lying in bed as she enters the room and gets into bed beside me. I am totally in love with her. I admire her dedication and commitment to serving people with emotional and physical disabilities. In fact she has one such person living with her whose name is Alice. I also admire her because despite her own health issue which is a chronic pain in her stomach that sometimes cause her to double over, unable to do anything at all, she still insists on carrying for Alice.
Alice is between, 12 and 15 years of age, but it’s hard to tell sometimes with people with developmental issues exactly how old they are, I am just assuming her age at this point.
Each day “Sara” has the consistent routine of getting up, preparing breakfast for Alice, and then taking Alice off to work with her. I found this quite endearing that she would want to keep Alice with her even during the day while she was at work performing her duties as a nurse.
This morning, while she is lying next to me, I decide to propose.
“I want to marry you.” I say.
She asks me why, which I thought was a peculiar question. First off, she was a beautiful blonde hair, handsomely shape young woman, with such a caring heart that who would not want to marry her. Of course, I am not your average tall dark and handsome bloke, but I am dedicated to anyone I love and I wanted to be a part of this woman’s life, forever. A woman who seemed to be so caring, loving and concerned for the well-being of those who are so often forgotten, mistreated, ridiculed and basically treated as less than human. Sara seemed to have the biggest heart for these people and I could see it in her daily care of Alice. So, to me, her surprise took me aback. Why wouldn’t I want to be intimately a part of her life? Not to mention how her nurturing care extended to me as well.
She responds,
“You want to marry me, but I don’t think you would want to stay married to me, especially not forever.”
What a peculiar response. A response that I quickly ignored and maintained in my mind there could not possibly anything that would or could happen to deter me from wanting to be by her side for the rest of my life.
Chapter 2.
We get up and go down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Alice. Sara asks me to ask “Dorothy” another home health aide that comes to the house to help Sara attend to Alice from time to time, to secure an item from the cupboard. Intent on doing exactly what she asked, as I am totally on board with being of as much assistance as I can to Sara and the work she does with and for Alice. But, when I turn to make my request, I notice that there are actually 3 individuals here with us. One of them is Alice, the other 2 I have never met before, but I make my request to one of them. Interestingly enough, I recognize this person. (in this dream, they are all on a shelf, Alice, and 2 other females, but for the sake of this story we shall say, they were sitting at the kitchen table.)
One of the 2 females, appeared to be developmentally challenged which I found peculiar for her to be here as Sara had never mentioned she had more than one person she was caring for.
I turn and speak to Alice saying, “I recognize that person.”
She responds, “Really, how is that?”
I say, “Well, interestingly enough, just the other day, I was taking a walk and we crossed paths. We did not exchange greetings but I clearly remember that face.”
Alice responds, “Hmmmm, that’s strange. That’s Doctor Wellington. She works at the hospital where I work. Interesting that you would see her while taking your walk the other day.”
“Yes, but you know how life goes. Sometimes you may see someone in a brief moment and only find out later, that that person may become an integral part of your life. It happens.” I say.
To me it was more than interesting. Dr. Wellington appeared to be quite developmentally challenged herself. That she was a doctor really peaked my curiosity but I dare not mention that, as I did not want to appear biased or unaccepting that someone who “appeared” developmentally challenged could not achieve the status of a Doctor who worked at a hospital. Dr. Wellington was approximately 5 ft. tall, dark hair, 150 pounds, slanted wayward eyes that held a deep but stationary stare. She seemed to be away into her own thoughts, not really present in the moment we were in. I wondered what kind of response I would get from her if I posed any question, let alone ask her to retrieve something from the cupboard.
In that moment, it didn’t really matter anymore, Sara instantly doubled over, grabbing her stomach and crying out in pain, as she would do from time to time. My attention quickly diverted from my thoughts and to caring for the woman I loved.
I attempt to assist her as best I could, while she reassured me not to worry, these attacks happen from time to time, and are quickly over in a flash. Within minutes she recovers and resumes her duties of taking care of Alice and preparing herself and Alice for a work day at the hospital.
I did find it a bit curious that she would want to take Alice along with her. I wondered what Alice did there alongside her caregiving Nurse. I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind.
Today I will accompany Sara to work. And if possible, I will not only assist Sara but will volunteer to assist anyone else who needs me.
Chapter 3
We arrive. Sara works in a prestigious high rise building of 23 floors. She worked on the 23rd floor. The building appeared to me to be more of an office building than a hospital. But I am naïve, with little knowledge of hospitals in general, not to mention hospitals that are dedicated to developmentally challenged individuals of all ages. I do not question the scenario for surely Sara is much more equipped to make it all make sense than I ever could. Her stark, elegant beauty would make anywhere make sense as far as I was concerned.
We park, enter the building and take the elevator to the 23rd floor. There are several rooms on this floor. The dark wood paneling and shining wood floors gave the appearance of an elegant hotel, not a hospital. The hallway is dimly lit with soft toned ceiling lamps. There were several adults moving thru the halls with young and old developmentally challenged individuals. They seemed to be attending to them in the manner that Sara did. Totally engaged and supportive of those they were caring for. It still seemed peculiar to call it a hospital. The environment was far from the sterile scene I expected. The staff here, did not appear as doctors or nurses dressed in hospital uniforms, but more like care-givers dressed in regular street clothing. I simply assumed that this was a “different” kind of hospital as I was certain that Sara was a nurse who worked here.
After just a few minutes, Sara thanked me for all my help and told me that I could leave now. Needless to say, I am a bit disappointed. I really wanted to help, be a part of the team, make a difference in the lives of these underserved people and of course be near Sara the whole time. But I took my leave.
As I travel down in the elevator to the first floor, I wonder about Sara’s condition. I wonder if it may be contagious. Is it a bug or something that can be transmitted through kissing. I had had no symptoms but it did occur to me that maybe I should ask about that. A young lady on the elevator responded as if she had read my thoughts.
“Why of course, we all have parasites in our intestines. That doesn’t mean they can be transmitted to another. It basically means we all have them.” She says rather matter of fact manner.
It did give me pause. I began to wonder about my own parasites and if maybe there was a remedy that I could take to keep them at bay. Since I had no apparent symptoms, I assumed I shouldn’t worry too much, but being uncertain I thought that maybe I should consult with Sara about it. After all she was a nurse and could probably give me some good advice. Advice that would be more helpful than the matter of fact response I got from the lady in the elevator.
I decide to go back to the 23rd floor, find Sara and ask a professional what course I should take. Obviously, Sara should know, although her condition seemed chronic, I was certain she knew exactly what to do, if indeed her condition was caused by parasites.
Chapter 4
Back on the 23rd floor I look for Sara and Alice. Since I took my leave so quickly after my arrival, I did not get an opportunity to see exactly where Sara worked. There were several rooms along this very long hallway. People were going in and out of them so I had no idea which room she would be in. But I was certain I would find her or at least someone would tell me where she was.
As I walked down the hallway, I noticed that some of these rooms had windows covered with venetian blinds. I concluded that would make my search even easier as I could see into the room more easily and quickly move on to the next room after seeing she was not in there instead of having to knock on each door in my search for Sara.
I come upon one such room and peer thru the venetian blinds. There she is. She is talking with another man. He is about 6ft tall, blonde hair, rather attractive and seemingly another professional, yet they are exchanging endearing glances. Sara does not appear to be at all in any physical discomfort. In fact she is licking a vanilla ice cream cone and offering it to this man. He takes a few licks of the ice cream and returns it to her. Then they passionately kiss each other.
My mind begins to race. Hang on, what is happening here?
I have too many questions.
What about her chronic condition that makes her double over in pain?
Could she be passing parasites to this man as they share the ice cream?
Why is she kissing this man this way?
Does he realize that she may be infecting him?
I am standing there, looking through the venetian blinds feeling as if I am invading her privacy while by the same token, I am wondering what is the meaning of all this?
Like a groundswell, I become overcome with curiosity about what exactly is going on, on the 23rd floor of this building.
I decide to disguise myself and take a look for myself. (this is a dream so here we do what dreams do.) I remove my jacket, shirt and pants, put on a blue full length shawl like cape and blend into the crowd of people headed towards the auditorium. There was a distinct difference in the demographics of this crowd. The developmentally challenged individuals appeared to be being kettle towards the auditorium by their caregivers who ranged in age from mid-20’s or so to seniors. The developmentally challenged individuals were dressed in a variety of ways, so I didn’t seem too much out of place. I made sure that I got no where near Sara, as for surely she would recognize me.
Chapter 5
Seated towards the back of the auditorium, I could hear a man speaking. He sounded like a principal, reminiscent of my days in high school. However, what he was saying would have never been said in any of my high school assemblies.
“Good morning, everyone, today we will be discussing the vagina. The vagina is a hole in the female body that needs to be used a lot. It is there just waiting to be used. Anyone with a vagina should welcome it being used by anyone who can use it.
Sometimes vaginas can be slippery and wet and that makes them even easier to use. But don’t worry, if your vagina is not slippery and wet it can be used anyway. It’s supposed to be used and it’s supposed to be used often. Make sure that you allow your vagina to be used at any time in any place. Do you understand?”
The crowd responded…. “Yes!”
I did not respond yes, at all.
My response was, “What the fuck is going on here? Am I actually hearing what I am hearing? Is this man insane? Why is he telling these people to use a vagina often and whenever and where ever they can? Why is he normalizing using a vagina in this manner? And specifically, why is he telling these developmentally challenged individuals, who quite clearly, have no ability to discern the appropriateness of what he was saying to them. Actually, he was instructing them, particularly the females to allow themselves to be sexually abused as if it was the normal order of the day.”
Needless to say, all my pristine imagery of how Sara was wondrously dedicated to the health and well-being of Alice crashed in that very moment. I hear her voice in my head saying,
“You want to marry me, but I don’t think you would want to stay married to me, especially not forever.”
They tell us that love is not a faucet to be turned on and off, but I can tell you truly, all that I felt for her was turned off in that very moment. I was beyond appalled and disgusted, I was terrified to even be in the same room with her, or any of them. My desire to escape was so intense I would have jumped out of the nearest window. Not in my wildest dreams would I want to be a part of the sexualization of these helpless people. Never would I want to be a part of normalizing abusing them sexually. I felt as if I had entered a secret cult and I could only imagine what happened to these innocent souls after having such an “assembly”. I had to escape, immediately.
Chapter 6
I quietly moved myself to the back of the auditorium as the “principal” continued to bellow out the most outrageous commands to this helpless audience with the onerous consent of all their caregivers. I cannot explain the utter contempt I felt for this man and the so called caregivers who were charged with taking honorable care of these hapless individuals.
Safely in the hallway I quickly head towards the nearest elevator.
“Stop, stop, stop! I am going to kill you!” A female voices screeches out to me. She lunges at me with a paper straw as if it were a knife.
“Stop, stop, I said, I am gonna kill you right now!”
My mind raced from shock to disbelief to pity to understanding. Somewhere in this little person’s mind, she felt indignant enough to retaliate against her violation. But so out of touch that she did not realize that she could not stab me or even kill me with a paper straw. Her countenance was one of a killer framed in the persona of someone who could barely understand or even manipulate the physical world around her. She was clearly developmentally challenged but somewhere in her little brain, she knew she had to fight back! Her demeanor, in an instance, changed from threatening to playful as she smiled and laughed at how she had startled or maybe even frightened me.
I had little time to consider the impact on my psyche at that time. All I knew was that I had to leave quickly. It barely entered my mind that the disguise I was wearing may appear strange to anyone on the elevator going down. In fact, it didn’t matter. I had to get out of there as quickly as possible.
I didn’t have to push her out of my way. I didn’t have to say a word. She laughed at me as she quickly walked away from me and entered the auditorium. It appeared she may have taken a bathroom break and in the moment of leaving the bathroom, something came over her and she saw me as her enemy, someone she needed to kill. Once the moment passed she calmly walked away.
The elevator door could not open fast enough. I jumped into the elevator and stared at the button 23. My finger hoovered over that button for a split second then I quickly pushed the button 1 with such urgency it drew the attention of the other person in the elevator.
I had no time to think of anything except getting out of there as fast as I could. I knew that I would never want to see Sara again. It was over for me in more than a thousand ways. She was right. I didn’t realize how right she was till the darkness of her work pierced into my brain that day.
She was right!
Not only would I not want to stay married to her forever.
I no longer wanted to marry her at all!
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Moving forward, you may need a little insight on how to pull that off. Lost a loved one, may want to know how they are doing. Relationship advice? Work? Career? Finances? Spirituality? Changing residence? Education? Travel? Etc. Doesn’t matter where you live, we can easily meet on line. Contact me…metaphysical.nana@gmail.comto schedule an appointment. I strongly encourage a “Life Path Reading” for starters, it can answer many questions and give you a blueprint for your life overall.
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I look forward to working with Nana in the future as I am going to sign up as a student. I love teachers that know their subject so well that it is not a struggle to impart information, but it flows through the essence of their being because they have become one with their subject matter.
I recommend Nana without reservation and can think of no room for improvement in her service…it is not done according to a set schedule, but she intuits what you need and that guides the session. I am sure no two sessions will ever be exactly alike. April 13, 2022
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As a child, I didn’t grow up in the church, but at 13, I set out to read the Bible from beginning to end. I recall how kings would seek out gifted diviners in navigating their way through difficult political waters. I learned later that astrologers, seers, and psychics were customarily used by kings and queens, and by warriors. What so surprising to me today is that many “religious” people shun the use of such gifted people, believing somehow that there is something wrong with seeking such guidance when really, it’s the opposite that’s true. We are supposed to seek out these people for guidance, as they are meant to be the voice of direction in our seas of life and change.
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Netfah A. ***** “My session with Nana Baakan Agyiriwah was like sitting down with an old friend turned wise, intuitive sage. She offered both a disarming and comfortable platform from which to share and express, while at the same time imparting a level of insight and professional experience needed to assist me along my journey into both the realms of the Dreamworld and my own self. Would recommend her to anyone ready, willing and able to explore both the seen and unseen world in which we each play a very unique and vital part.” October 3, 2020
Tony R.***** “I ended up having a combination session counselling/guidance/reading that ran for 2 hours. I found it extremely insightful and helped put my situation into perspective. Nana is empathetic, talked in a ‘language’ i could understand and followed a point of discussion through to resolution, i.e. not wrapping things up for the sake of progressing in the session. I thought the reading related exactly to my general life experience and also the situation at hand. There was a good sense of assurance in the reading confirming things i had observed/knew about and affirming my thoughts and intentions. I can’t think of anything Nana could have done better. May she have many blessings. She definitely is a blessing to others.” September 23, 2019
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Kazuhiro Haraguchi, the former Japanese Minister for Internal Affairs, has become the first major politician to apologize to the unvaccinated for the tsunami of deaths occurring among the vaccinated population.
Earlier this week, huge numbers of Japanese citizens took to the streets to protest against the crimes against humanity perpetrated by globalist organizations such by World Health Organization (WHO) and World Economic Forum (WEF) during the pandemic.
During an opening speech at the protests, Haraguchi delivered a powerful and emotional apology for the huge numbers of deaths now occurring as a result of the deadly mRNA roll-out.
“Let’s help them win a war we can’t afford to lose.”
“They’re sitting on a gold mine…”
Interesting reasons to keep the war in Ukraine going, you agree with Lindsey Graham, US citizens as your tax dollars roll out? Surely you will benefit? Correct?
US President Biden has presented a plan for a lasting ceasefire in Gaza.
It provides for the release of all hostages by Hamas and at the same time the withdrawal of Israeli forces from all populated areas of Gaza.
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At this point Palestinian civilians would return to their homes and neighbourhoods in all areas of Gaza, receiving increased humanitarian assistance from the international community. The international community’s reconstruction of Gaza would then begin.
In this way – Biden underlines – Israel could integrate more deeply into the region, including a potential historic normalization agreement with Saudi Arabia, becoming part of a regional security network to counter the threat posed by Iran.
The clear aim of the plan is to strike the BRICS, which Russia and China are part of, and Saudi Arabia has entered together with Iran, which the USA and Israel consider their most dangerous enemy in the region. However, the fact remains – concludes Biden – that Israel will always have the right to defend itself from threats to its security and that the United States will always ensure that Israel has what it needs to protect itself.
Biden’s plan perfectly fits the United States’ war strategy in the Middle East.
It maintains the strategic axis with Israel by continuing to supply it with the most advanced weapons systems and massive quantities of ammunition, including those with which Israel is razing Gaza to the ground. At the same time, he envisages reconstruction of Gaza – entrusted to the international community, i.e. mainly to the United States, Israel, the European Union, and the G7 – which, as the plan presented by Netanyahu specifies, would consist of rebuilding Gaza from scratch transforming it into a massive free trade zone with luxury skyscrapers, eco-friendly solar power plants and electric car manufacturing plants.
The surviving Palestinians, returning to their homes and neighbourhoods, would find only rubble and would no longer have any real property rights. An inevitable mass exodus would follow, while those remaining would become dependent on the activities set up in Gaza by the international community. The Palestinian Territory of Gaza would thus be erased, together with that of the West Bank, erasing Palestine as a state.
This article was originally published in Italian on Grandangolo, Byoblu TV.
Manlio Dinucci, award winning author, geopolitical analyst and geographer, Pisa, Italy. He is a Research Associate of the Centre for Research on Globalization (CRG).
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Israel’s scorched-earth campaign will cruelly shape the lives of many future generations of Palestinians—and that’s the point. JOSHUA FRANK
This article originally appeared at TomDispatch.com. To stay on top of important articles like these, sign up to receive the latest updates from TomDispatch.com.
As Amal Nassar lay in pain on a bed at the Al-Awda Hospital in the Nuseirat refugee camp in northern Gaza, the echoes of explosions and artillery fire could be heard all around her. It was mid-January and she had made her way to the embattled hospital to give birth to a baby girl she would name Mira. While Amal should have been celebrating her infant’s delivery, instead she was engulfed in fear, surrounded by the relentless nightmare of death and suffering that she and her family had experienced for months.
“I was muttering to myself, ‘I hope I die,’” she recalled.
Though gut-wrenching, Amal’s story is not unlike those of so many other young mothers in Gaza today. The World Health Organization estimates that more than 50,000 pregnant women are barely surviving there, while having babies at the rate of 180 births a day. Many of those women (especially in the north) are acutely malnourished and few received any medical attention before their labor pains began, often weeks ahead of schedule.
According to a bleak report released in March by UNICEF, the thousands of infants born in Gaza over the previous two months (and ever since) are at great risk of dying. Many already have, although numbers are hard to come by.
“There are babies who died in their mothers’ wombs and surgeries were performed to remove the dead fetuses,” said Dr. Muhammad Salha, acting director of Al-Awda Hospital, where the situation couldn’t be more dire. “Mothers are not eating because of the conditions we are living in, and this affects the infants.… There are [cases] of many children suffering from dehydration and malnutrition, leading to death.”
Western healthcare providers who have returned from Gaza describe genuinely horrific scenes. Dr. Nahreen Ahmed, a Philadelphia-based doctor and the medical director of the humanitarian aid group MedGlobal, left Gaza in late March, her second time on the front lines since Israel launched its assault nearly eight months ago. What she witnessed has changed her forever.
“There’s not enough space for us to work closely with the mothers to help them start lactating again. We can’t even access them. And to be able to do that, you have to have day-to-day activities with those women, and that is not something that’s possible for us right now. Those children need to be breastfed. If they can’t be breastfed, they need formula,” Dr. Ahmed toldDemocracy Now! host Amy Goodman. “What we’re talking about is women who are squeezing fruits, dates into handkerchiefs, into tissues, and feeding—drip-feeding their children with some sort of sugary substance to nourish them.”
Being born amid the rubble, amid a horrifying offensive, will undoubtedly scar future generations—if, that is, they’re lucky enough to survive the constant bombings and the denial of basic necessities like food, fuel, and medical aid. And as yet, despite mounting international pressure, threats of war crimes charges, and claims of genocide, Israel has shown no signs of relenting.
Onslaught of Revenge
From early on, Israeli leaders have been remarkably clear about their intentions in the Palestinian enclave. Israeli Colonel Yogez BarSheshet, speaking from Gaza in late 2023, put it bluntly: “Whoever returns here…will find scorched earth. No houses, no agriculture, no nothing. They have no future.”
It’s as if Israel’s leaders knew that, while it was impossible to actually destroy Hamas, they could at least obliterate Gaza’s infrastructure and slaughter civilians under the guise of hunting down terrorists. After seven long months of Israel’s onslaught of revenge, it’s clear that this has never been about freeing the hostages taken on October 7. Along the way, Israel could easily have accepted multiple proposals to do so, including a cease-fire resolution brokered by Egypt, Qatar, and the United States in early May. Instead, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and crew shot down that plan, in which Hamas had agreed to release all living hostages taken in its October 7 assault on Israel in exchange for Palestinians held in Israeli prisons. The sticking point, however, had nothing to do with the release of those captives rotting in Gaza under who knows what kind of stressful conditions, but Israel’s refusal to accept any resolution that includes a permanent cease-fire.
Immediately after nixing Hamas’s offer to release the hostages, Israel began bombing Rafah, home to more than a million refugees. Hundreds of thousands of them have since fled the city, displaced yet again. And despite Netanyahu’s now-discredited claim that he only had to destroy Hamas’s last four “battalions” in Rafah, the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) soon found themselves back at it in the north as well, attacking areas where Hamas was once again said to be operating.
In response to protests that spread quickly on college campuses in the U.S., President Biden paid lip service to the outrage and paused shipments of U.S. military aid to Israel, only to reverse course a week later with a new $1-billion arms deal for that country.
Depending on how Israel’s post–October 7 blood-soaked incursion into Gaza is evaluated, the military operation has either been a complete disaster or a monumental success. If the destruction of Gaza and the slaughtering of Palestinians was the intent, then Israel has certainly succeeded. If the return of the hostages and the destruction of Hamas was the goal, then it failed miserably. Either way, Israel has quickly become a pariah of its own making, something that never had to happen, and from which there may be no turning back.
The Damage Done
The specter of death in Gaza is difficult, if not impossible, to grasp. At a distance, our understanding of the situation often relies on somber statistics, especially in the establishment media. The official count, consistently cited by mainstream outlets, comes in at around 35,000 deaths.
In May, The New York Times and other outlets jumped on a report from the United Nations, which had apparently revised Gaza’s death count. But the UN did not, in fact, halve its total of women and children who had died, as The Jerusalem Postclaimed. It simply altered its classification system in terms of those estimated to have died and those it could definitively confirm to be deceased. The totals, however, remained the same. Nonetheless, even those numbers, based on information provided by Gaza’s Ministry of Health, end up blurring the cruel reality on the ground. UN officials also fear that at least 10,000 more Gazans lie buried under the rubble in that 25-mile strip of land.
But death figures can also impart meaning, as the long-time consumer-rights activist Ralph Nader recently pointed out. He happens to believe that Israel could have killed at least 200,000 Palestinians in Gaza, a mind-boggling figure, but worth examining. So, I called on him to elaborate.
“The undercount is staggering,” said Nader, whose Lebanese parents emigrated to the United States before he was born. “The US and Israel want a low number, so they look around. Instead of themselves estimating—which they don’t want to do—they cling to Hamas’s [figures], and Hamas doesn’t want a realistic number because they don’t want to be seen as unable to protect their own people. So, they developed these criteria: to be counted, the dead must first be certified by hospitals and morgues [which barely exist].”
He has made it a habit to reach out to writers and editors. Like so many others, I have a bit of a phone affair with that 90-year-old thinker and activist. We discuss politics, baseball, and journalism’s rapid, insidious decline. I’ve certainly heard him animated in the past, but never more indignant than when he addresses the situation in Gaza. “The whole thing is one death camp now. It’s easily 200,000 deaths in Gaza,” he insisted, citing the number of bombs dropped, which have, by some estimates, exceeded 100,000. We know that at least 45,000 missiles and bombs had been used in Gaza within three months of the beginning of Israel’s military campaign. As a result, as many as 175,000 buildings have been damaged or destroyed by Israel. So, he seems to be on to something.
“Eventually [the real number of the dead] will come out,” he adds. “They’ll do a census, whoever takes over. The one thing the extended families in Gaza know is who’s been killed in their families.”
Of course, his assertion is circumstantial and he knows it, but he’s making a point. With so much of the Gaza Strip facing imminent starvation, nearly all hospitals out of commission, just about no medicine left, and very little clean water or food, 35,000 deaths are likely, in the end, to prove a drastic undercount.
“Not in Our Name”
The Holocaust, in which Nazis murdered 11 million people, 6 million of whom were Jews, was quite literally the textbook genocide. Yet, as ghastly and systematic as it was, at least one other genocide may have claimed a larger death toll. In her latest book, Doppelganger, Naomi Klein explains that the largest genocide was inflicted on Indigenous peoples in the Americas at the hands of European settlers. Hitler’s Holocaust, Klein writes, actually took a page from colonialists in the Americas and was deeply influenced by the Western frontier myth.
“I think it is important to say that every genocide is different,” was how Klein put it to Arielle Angel of the Jewish Currents podcast On the Nose. “There are particularities to every holocaust, and there absolutely were particularities to the Nazi Holocaust. This was a Fordist Holocaust. It was quicker and on a much larger scale and more industrialized than had ever been seen before or since.”
Klein is correct that the Nazi Holocaust was born out of Hitler’s colonialist aspirations and ought to be framed as such. It’s also worth noting that the 1948 Genocide Convention, which was a response to that atrocity, makes clear that classifying an event as a genocide is dependent neither on the number of victims killed nor even on the percentage of a given population slaughtered. This means that the number of people killed in Gaza makes little difference in the court of international law; legally speaking, that is, Israel is already committing genocide.
In one of the saddest twists of modern history, in the wake of the October 7 Hamas assault, the trauma of the Holocaust is being used to exploit Jewish suffering and fear for safety and so to justify the slow evisceration of Palestinians. It’s this tragic irony that’s turned so many young American Jews against Israel’s policies.
Amid a mounting international backlash, support for Israel among Jewish Americans has never faced such intense division. Many of the protests against the war in Gaza here have, in fact, been led by young Jews fed up with Israel’s claim on their Judaism and cultural history. In response, the ranks of the Jewish-run IfNotNow and the Jewish Voice for Peace have swelled, helping to spawn a newly invigorated antiwar movement in this country.
The threat this poses to Zionism’s future is unlike anything the movement has faced since the Six-Day War, according to the pro-Israel Anti-Defamation League (ADL). “We have a major, major, major generational problem,” ADL director Jonathan Greenblatt said in a panicked donor call last November. “All the polling I’ve seen…suggests this is not a left/right gap, folks. The issue of [the] United States’ support for Israel is not left and right. It is young and old.”
Greenblatt is correct. Gen Z and Millenials, Jewish or otherwise, are much less likely to accept Israel’s rationale for the slaughter of Palestinians than the generations that came before them. Poll after poll shows that ever more young Jews in the United States are distancing themselves from the tenets of Zionism. Why wouldn’t they? They’ve seen the dead bodies on social media, the screams, the bloodshed, the flattened cities, and they want no part of it. Support for Israel among the young is now at a nadir.
And that, as polls already suggest, could affect the coming election. “Biden’s going to lose the election just by people staying home,” Ralph Nader predicted. “He thinks properly that Trump is worse on this issue and everything else, so he’s got this attitude, so does the entire Democratic Party, ‘Hey you protesters, grow up, you’ve got nowhere else to go.’ Yeah, they’ve got somewhere to go. They can just stay home.”
We’re still months away from the November election and things could change drastically, but you can’t resurrect the dead or turn back the clock on genocide. Thanks, in part, to those American bombs and missiles, the damage is already done. Israel’s collective punishment is now simply a fact of life and President Biden remains culpable for those deaths in Gaza, too, whether the human toll is now 35,000 or 200,000. The White House’s continued denial that Israel is committing genocide means very little when there’s a mountain of evidence to the contrary.
Back in the desperate and overcrowded Nuseirat refugee camp, Amal Nassar held her 3-month-old as an April spring day arrived early in Gaza. She wondered what the future would hold for her little baby girl.
“I looked at Mira and thought: Did I make the right decision to have this baby in a war?”
It’s a painful question without an answer, but the outlook remains grim. In mid-May, an Israeli fighter jet launched missiles at residential buildings in Nuseirat, killing 40 Palestinians, including women and children. Many more were injured. The rockets missed Amal’s family this time, but the longer Israel’s callousness endures, the closer death creeps.
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