Silence can be so Loud... Pt. 2

"They will come looking for you, Kindred. You must know that."  "I do, Clarise, but they won't find me. You know that I can be sure of that, don't you?"
 "I only know that I want to protect you in any way that I can. This is one of the first places they will look for you. They know of our bond. We have to find a place where you can hide until we can think this through."
 "Clarise, it is not the people from the "home" I am worried about. The souls I have hurt have come back. They are trying to destroy me before I can make it all right." Kindred stood and walked to her radio. He turned the volume up enough that he felt it would drown out their conversation to anyone but them. "They can only reach me if it is silent. When the home took my music away, they came back.  The further away I get, the harder it is for them to find me. We need to get to the cabin as soon as we can."
 Clarise studied Kindred. She watched his eyes flutter from side to side as if he were watching for something, someone. She knew she could deny him nothing. He had saved her life more times than she could remember. She loved him very much but she also knew that staying with him meant having to watch the horrors she had tried so hard to forget since he had gone away.
 "I'll take some time off from work. We can leave as soon as you want to."
 "My father was a cruel man, Clarise. It was because of him that I became what I am today. He forced my hand when I was just a child. I only thank him for causing me to search out the people in the dark. They saved my life and in turn, I found you. I only wish others could see them, like you do. Then they would not think me crazy."
 "You are far from crazy, Kindred. You are the smartest man I have ever known. Have you talked to the people in the dark yet?"
 "No, but they know I am free right now. They always know. We should get to the cabin as soon as we can. As much as they know I am free, so do the "souls." Once we reach the cabin, I will seek out the dark people and they will tell us what to do."
 "Kindred... you do know that you did Not hurt all of those souls, right? Have you come to realize that yet?"
 "If that is true, then why do they seek to kill me? Help me, Clarise. Help me to remember, please."
 "I found you five years ago, Kindred. I was coming home from work and saw something in the road. I wanted to just pass it by but something told me to stop. I found you, curled in a ball, the rain falling on your face. I was drawn to you immediately and tried to help you into my car. There was something out there that night. Something both good and bad. They tugged at you as I was putting you in the car. The voices were a mix of "save him" and "let us have him." When I got you into the car and touched you, I could see into your mind. I saw the little boy, reaching out to his mother for comfort. I heard her words of hatred, felt your very soul cry as she slapped you. Over the next four years, each time I touched you while you slept, I learned more. I saw the people that you tried to help and watched each and every one of them want to be with you. I saw women fall in love with you only to hate you when you told them you were leaving. I saw men want to be You and have your knowledge and your charm. They tried to destroy you when they found they could not have it."
 "And you saw the dark people come to me? You saw the souls of those that I had hurt trying to destroy me?"
 Tears streamed down Clarise's eyes as she held Kindred. She wasn't certain if she held a man in her arms or a little boy, still reaching out to his mother. She cried softly and felt Kindred's huge fingertips brush the tears away.
 "I saw it all, Kindred. I learned that the "dark people" had come from another plaine, somewhere far away from our own world. They came in the dark to help you. Times when you were alone in the silence, vulnerable to the "souls."
 "And the souls? Tell me again where they came from."
 "They too came from another place. A place that is evil and cruel. The place that your father exposed you too every time he struck you or your mother. He opened some portal that you and I closed for a while. A place that somehow has been re-opened."
 "We have to go there and close the door forever, Clarise. You know we must."
 "Yes, Kindred... we must go there. But remember, we might not win. If we lose, we both may die."
 "Do you love me enough to go there with me, Clarise?"
 "I do. We will go to the place in the mountains that you first found them and face all of them."
 "We won't die, Clarise. We will win this time, completely. We will spend the rest of our lives together."
 Clarise watched him as he drifted off to sleep. She layed him down on the bed and covered him. She layed beside him and tried to sleep. She wondered if her own words were true. Would they survive the silence?
   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clarise was suddenly startled from her sleep. She heard before she saw Kindred fighting in his sleep. She turned and saw the blankets pulled back. Unseen fingers were tearing at his chest. The skin was torn away and blood covered his body. He screamed out in the night and tried desperately to fight off the creatures that were trying to steal his heart from his chest.
 "Just take me... make it all end!!!!!!" 
Clarise heard his words and tossed back her blankets. "No-o-o-o-o Kindred, No! Do not give in t them! I will not let you go!"
 Clarise covered his body with hers. She screamed out in both shock and pain. Never had she felt this before. Never had they torn into her skin. She writhed in pain but refused to move from Kindred's body. "Fight, Kindred, fight! Don't you dare give up now. I just got you back and I am not going to lose you again!" Her body was filled with unimaginable pain. She cried out again and again, still refusing to let them take her Kindred. "Wake up, Kindred" she cried... "Please wake up for both of our sakes!!!!"

 

Silence can be so loud.

  It didn't last long... it never did. The pain stayed with him just long enough to remind Kindred  that he was not alone. The watchful eyes of the souls that had felt the sting of his whip were never far away. Unseen fingers reached out from an Abyss and ripped at his skin. His chest bled as the souls tried desperately to tear his heart from his body. His screams of pain went unheard by most. Perhaps they were more un-noticed than unseen. Either way, it mattered very little to him. The only thing that Did mean anything to him was freeing his soul from the ones he had hurt. Each cut, each shredding of his skin, brought him closer to that reality. But how much more did he owe? When would enough truly be Enough!?!?!?
 The walls, white as the purest first snowfall, surrounded him on all sides. The voices echoed in his brain like the sound of a huge church bell, ringing in the new day.  Kindred held his hands over his ears but the sounds came from inside, not outside. His hands did little more than warm his ears. They blocked nothing out. Not the bells, not the voices, not even the screams of the souls, waiting for their release to their final resting place. He had to escape from this place that held him hostage. He had to find the woman that could make this all go away. She had been the only one that had ever truly loved him. His Father dead before Kindred was nine and his mother... oh how she hated Kindred. She would have rather stayed with a man that beat her daily and smelled of whiskey and urine than to have seen him dead at the hands of her only son.
 Kindred was only eight years old when he slipped into his mother and fathers bedroom, that terrible night. His father was too busy tossing his mother across the room to notice him enter the bedroom. Too fixed on causing Kindred's mother to hurt in ways one could not imagine without going a little bit insane to see him walk up behind his father and take aim at him. His father only noticed Kindred in the room after the second shot rang out. He turned and looked at his son, both anger and pain burning in his eyes. His father, in his last moments of life, grabbed Kindred and threw him across the room. His mother, the woman he had just killed to save, threw herself onto his fathers dead body. She cried out as she held his lifeless form in her arms. Kindred, laying crumpled against the bedroom wall, heard his mothers words of hatred. They were burned into his young mind forever. Words that would set his feet on a path of destruction that would touched every soul that came into contact with Kindred.
  "You horrible boy!!!!!! You just killed the man I Love!! You shot your own father!!!!!!! I hope you rot in Hell!!!"
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  "I have to get out of here! I need to find Clarise. She will help me escape this insane world that reaches out to destroy me. She understood I wasn't a bad man. She knows I had to do what I did."
  The door to his room opened. The intern was new, unfamiliar with the patients locked behind the doors. Kindred seized the opportunity and over powered the young man. Tossing him by his foot and arm into the far wall, Kindred watched the young man fall to the floor. His mind spun, and for a moment, he saw himself laying where the young man was. He heard his own crying, listened to himself pleading with his mother. "I love you Mother! I did it for You! Please love me Mother... Please, please forgive me! I Love you!" And he saw his mother stand and walk over to him. He knew she understood. How could she not. He had just killed the man that had hurt her since long before Kindred was born. Kindred saw himself reaching his arms out to her, ready to be held and loved. And for the millionth time... Kindred felt the sting of her hand on his face. Oh how it hurt.
  "I hate you!!" were the last words Kindred would ever hear from his Mother.
He walked out the door and made his way outside. He had not seen the outdoors in a very long time. The intern had $18.00 dollars in his pocket. Kindred would pay him back as soon as he could. He hailed a taxi and went straight to Clarise's house.  Her car was parked in the driveway so he knew she was there. Kindred paid the driver and walked up to the door, ringing the bell as he watched the taxi pull away. Clarise opened the door and Kindred saw first fear in her eyes. The fear was quickly replaced by confusion.
  "Kindred, how... what, what are you doing here? I thought..."
 "I had to get away, Clarise. Please, I beg of you, don't turn me away."
Clarise touched his cheek with her tiny hand. She opened the door wider to let him inside. "I would never turn away from you, Kindred. I love you. Come in and tell me what happened. no one would tell me where you went to. I truly thought you were dead." She hugged him tight.

Depression... Not just another word.

Here it is, Saturday morning and I am ready to write about a subject I have written on many times before.  I write often about it because i believe that in one way or another, it effects more people than perhaps people know. It's out-reach goes far beyond the person that has this disorder. It touches the lives of not only those near by but also the lives of people often not even associated with the inflicted. I am writing about depression, an illness that effects more than 19 million Americans and 1.7 million across the world. I write about this because sometimes I will go to a site that is dedicated to depression and after reading it I feel as if I know little more if anything about what it really is.
 Depression to many is simply a word or a diagnosis. So you were told by your doctor that you are depressed. D-u-u-u-u-u-h. You pretty much knew that when you went to see them. But what does that really mean to you and to those around you?  We all have our bad days or days we simply feel like the world is against us. What separated you from a million others that caused your doctor to say "hey, you are depressed.?" That is really one of the questions that rarely are answered for us. There is still so much unknown about things like depression and about Bipolar disorder. Sometimes I think that the real answers come from the very people that are effected by these disorders.
 Depression touches so many lives in so many ways. I live it daily and feel it almost always. One difference between myself and someone that is having a down day is this. People have down times but their life in general is a happy one. That isn't to say everything is grand for them. It merely means that though they have a bad day now and then, the good days are more common. For myself and millions others, I have the opposite. I have good days but the sad or lost and confused far out weigh the good days. When i am having a "grand" day, I am still fully aware that tears or sadness or the feeling that I simply am not good for anything or anyone is always just a breeze away. Anything small can and too often does trigger those feelings and changes my entire day... sometimes, my week or month.  I don't "bounce back" and go about my daily routine. I carry it with me and as the day or week goes on, I add to it until the weight is too much to carry. Sound familiar? I am sure to many of you, it does.
 People, medical sites can tell you all about the medical effects of depression and/or being bipolar. It doesn't really click unless you feel what they are saying. I don't mean have the symptoms. I am talking about Feeling the very words of someone that has been there or is there. I am writing about those that love someone that is suffering because they too suffer right along with you. To watch you go through battles inside, knowing the very best they can offer you is an ear or to love you often leaves them feeling useless to you. They want to help you but don't truly know how. And how do we expect them to do something that we ourselves have no idea how to do, even for ourselves? And so... we take on that guilt as well and make it our own.
 Being diagnosed, as I said before, is just a term. A simple word that is tossed around so easily today that I often wonder if some even really know what it is. It isn't about being sad for a moment or even fora day or two. Hell, life does that just because it is fast pace and demanding today.  The very best of the Lot feel that. It is the silent, behind the scene feelings that are destructive. The feelings that no one would nor could understand and so we suffer alone, in silence, crying in secret, feeling as if we serve no purpose other than to hurt those around us that separate us from the rest of the world. It is the need to feel and to know why we are this way that drives us. Answers that never seem to come. Doctors and therapists telling us what medically can be done and us, inside, screaming "no thank you!!!!" Fears that no one but those that suffer can imagine, whether real or self induced, fears that are as real to us as the very air we breathe.
  If you suffer from these disorders, I hope you have a good "support team." The safe places we have, few and rare, are the only thing that gives us reason to continue the journey our feet have been set on. Loved ones that really Do care and that truly Do believe that there is something not quite right for you are more important that anyone could imagine. And those that Do NOT believe or that feel there is nothing wrong with you that you can not simply "get past it", can destroy all that you are without even realizing it and sometimes, sadly, without even caring.  They have a way to bring you to places they do Not even want to try and imagine and for certain would not EVER want to follow you there.
 If you are someone that lives with or around a person inflicted with depression or bipolar and you love them as best as you can, then I say God Bless you and thank you for that. You may in fact be a binding tie that keeps that loved one here on this earth. You too have a "power", or perhaps I should say a "gift" to touch and help that loved one survive and function in a world that is mostly abstract and threatening to them.
 I don't know that I have written anything different or new here today. I hope that I have at least caused you to stop and think for a moment. To reach out and grab One thought for a minute, something that for those of that do suffer consider a rare and beautiful moment. Depression is sooooooo much more than just a website that writes about it. It is a way of life for some of us. Rough, sad, scary or otherwise, it is our world and we need You, the one looking in from the outside to believe that it IS real. After-all, who would ever ask to be This way? Ahhhhhhhh, but that is another write all in itself.    Darrel 

Stress and writing... a great release.

Funny how when ever I have deep thoughts, this is where I come to. It is the writing that releases the inner soul and allow me to drift away from life around me now and then.I find myself almost in that "looking down at yourself" sort of feeling when I write. I am sometimes amazed as I watch the words appear on the screen as if they were there and simply needed to be activated somehow. My thoughts become a bit abstract and I move from place to place and try to remember where I have been since the last time I came here. Perhaps... I should come here more often.
I saw my therapist yesterday. There was a time that a statement like that would not have been made public. It was almost embarrassing to have anyone know you were seeing a "Shrink." Today, I think it is almost a status thing. If you live and breathe the air, you see a Phsychiatrist. There is no shame in it. People see therapis for many different reasons today. We live in a very fast pace, stressed world today. Life is non stop and the entire world seems to be shortening the time that was used for "getting a good nights rest." The sleep we used to almost covet we now have replaced with the World Wide Web, better known to most as the internet.
At night, when the world used to sleep, I am sitting up, staring at a screen, sometimes typing to a friend, other times doing work that brings me in a nice supplemental income. Whatever my reason for being here, I Am here until the very wee hours of the morning while my family sleeps, not 25 feet away from where I sit. It relaxes me to be here and gives me a place to lose the days events or to write them down so that I never forget them. It doesn't steal away hours of family time as the family sleeps as they should. But for me, and I think Millions of others around the world, sleep is a needed evil that only happens because my body insists.
As I was saying aout "abstract"... I went off the beaten path for a moment. Or did I??? Stress can take from you the very essence of what sleep is intended to do. It robs you of the sleep that yourbody needs, wether You believe that to be so or not. Even when you do succumb to your bodies desire, hmmm... more insistance that you lay dow to sleep, your mind is never ceasing to keep thoughts and images and fears and needs from invading your precious sleep time. Andddddddddddddd, back to my "Shrink" visit. When I feel the stress of the world around me, I want to run somewhere and hide. I want to find a place where no one knows me and just be one of many that owes no one an apoligy or takes on the pains or burdens of someone we love.
It is no secret to most of my readers that I am Bipolar. I suffer daily from a disorder that leaves me spinning at times. It causes my mind to go places that most would not go and those that dare to would run screaming away as fast as they can. For me, it is simply my world. Stress is a daily part of my life, as it is with half the world, I am sure but for me, it is just a little more... did I say "little?" It is a lot more ummmm, mixed up. Stress brings to my world fear and nervousness. I find ways to deal with it and try to go on with my day as best I can. Some days, the "other team" wins.
Sooooooooooo... She says, {my Shrink} that it is good to think and try to find alternate ways to deal with the stress in my life. Funnel it towards something positive like my novels or writng or singing. Something that will take the many abstract thoughts and channel them into something good. So far, again, the other team is scoring and looking towards that Victory Bell to ring. She says that in facing the issues that keep my sleep away, it may help to make them not so prominent in my mind. We shall see. ;) My real point here is to say that writing is a healthy alternative to an unhealthy thought mechanism. It gives me a place to be and a world where no one judges me nor looks at me differently. Because truly, I am not so different from you or you or you. I simply see things diffently than others might. Not always in a bad way. I wonder in my mind how others deal with their daily stress and if Others feel the need to get away from their daily stress, just for a little while, to try and grab a thought here and there and find some peace that will allow the to sleep One night, without interruption. Does that exist in the world I live in????

Life is Crazy that Way...

We start out searching for a place in this crazy world. We travel sometimes to find it. We find people, friends, places and avenues that take us to new and different realms and levels of living. Sometimes, the work we do and who we work with gives us a feeling of stability. For some, it holds them and they are content forever. For others... like me, there is no content.
I am a writer. It is what I do. And this writer wants to travel. I want to be inspired by the things around me. I want to look at a house and see a new novel. I want to travel around, find a plac that inspires my soul and write. Stay there until I need more content and then find a new place. The world inspires me and sometimes, it is the very thing that blocks my thoughts and slows my writing. I think this is true of so many authors, perhaps more so in a fiction writer. More abstract their thoughts.
Love that touches your soul is a novel waiting to be written. There are moments when the love is confused and that life steps in and mixes up your emotions. This too is a novel in the writing. Loving and caring and sharing with someone the depths of your everything is a novel. Infusing into your writing your own lifes experiences I believe is a given. You draw from the things you have felt inside to write words of love and sharing, sadness and pain.
You see, home for me, as a writer, is where my shoes are set for the night. It is the place I sit and write. This wanderers heart, never truly content where he is, is the heart, I do believe of every writer. Seeing the world through story telling eyes. A writer lives inside their novels. Their very essence tranfers to the book and things they only dream of happening can and do come to life at the touch of a keyboard. And so I wonder... How is it that a writer finds contentment? What is out there that will cause a writer to call his/her house their home? I have not found it yet, not even in my novels. And so... I continue my search.

Write to forget??? An Oxymoron?????

WWriting... something we all do at one time or another but for different reasons. Some write to remember. We write our memoirs and our diaries of everything important that happens to us as we grow up. If it begins to fade a bit from our thoughts or memories, we need only to turn a few pages and we are there again. There are also those that write to forget or transform something painful and make it less destructing of our hearts. That may not make sense but trust me, it is real. Maybe that statement deserves or even screams for an explanation. The statement itself almost takes on the appearance of an Oxymoron. If you write about something, it seems a little doubtful that you are going to forget it. I think differently. Depending on how you write or what image you put it into.
Imagine if you will, you as a child. A hundred things scared us as children. There were the shadows on the wall and the sounds just outside our windows. A noise in the night that sounded too much like "monsters" under our bed. "Monsters Inc" made that very apparent to us all. A Little Sully or Mike scratching around in the closet would send any kid into their mommy and daddies room for the night. As that child grew, he took those "monsters" and made them fuzzballs or dust bunnies and the scarey creatures no longer existed. They were transformed into something that could not hurt us.
Take that same idea and place it on a life happening. The loss of a friend or a loved one is both scarey and painful. To deal with the sorrow and the feelings that steal sleep and cause us to wander far away in our minds is nearly impossible. We do whatever we can to lessen the pain that wracks our souls. We get busy with projects. We surround our selves with new friends or travel to places we did not travel while we were with that loved one. that, is a little like drinking 4 or 5 whiskey sours. It dulls the memory and pain while the whiskey works but then, in the end, the pain is there when we wake. The only difference is we have a headache to remind us of what we did.
And writing can do what? Taking the sorrow and the pain of remembering we lost someone we love very much and transforming it in type to good memories or lessons in life can help to allow you not to go back to the loss quite as often. Remembering the good times and putting them down on paper, or in most cases today, on screen, does help to forget. Not to forget the one we love so much. That I believe is not something that will happen. But to see the happiness that was shared gives us cause to smile. As we smile more, we cry less. Funny things we shared with that loved one brings a different memory to fill in where the sadness was.
We have the abilty to create stories that have a different ending. We can reach into our hearts and from those tears, turn the ending to one of joy. Writing is with out a doubt, theraputic. It gives us a place to go so that our hearts and minds have a chance to heal some. It opens new avenues and tells us that life has gone on and that you Are going to some how survive. The wonderful thing about writing is that we can meld with the words and go to another place where the sorrows are filled with smiles. We can write with a passion, so fast that we forget the real reason were writing. And the best part of it all... you won't wake with a headache.
Take your sadness and make them something new. Remember all the good times. Let your mind wander to when you were happy. The monsters are only under your bed as long as you allow them to be. No Alligator is going to bite your hand and no "Chucky" doll is going to drag you under the bed, unless you continue to believe that it will. As I wrote this, I remembered the beauty of a love eternal. I thought about what made me smile and... I smiled. Writing to forget really isn't as Oxymoronic as one might think. It won't rob you of your memories. It simply makes them a little nicer to sleep with.

To the Miners in West Virginia... God Be with you All

I was reading my last blog and suddenly, I felt a little shame come over me. I was thinking about a cup of coffee and a donut. And then I thought about how truly trivial that sounds when compared to what is happening in West Virginia right now. A dear friend of almost 15 years and her family sit somewhere outside of a mine that had an explosion 3 days ago. To date 25 miners are known to be dead. Four remain trapped inside of the mine. Where, they are unsure. Alive? Also unsure. There are pods that they can reach for safety but it is not known if the last four found their way to it.
I take this moment and this space on my blog site and dedicate it to the 25 people that have died and to those that remain in question. The family that is dear to our home waits outside the mine, hoping, praying, that their husband, father, friend, brother... All that he is to these people, is safe somewhere inside. I pray for them and cry for them and believe with them, as it must be. Families go down into the mines every single day, knowing the dangers and yet also knowing that it is the only way to feed their loved ones or keep them in clothing and a home. I read the words of some that say "Why would they want to work in such a place?" Why? Because it is where they have made their living for generations. It is what they know and what they do to survive.
I say "God Bless" them and God bless and be with the families that have lost their loved ones. I also say "Pray" for those that still wait, a cup of coffee or a donut so very terribly irrelevant to them right now. I offer my love and caring and prayers for the families of the miners and pray God brings to them some measure of peace and strength through what I can Only imagine has to be the most terrifying moments of their lives. God Bless you My friend and God Bless the Miners.

How do You define "comfortable?"

What really does it mean to be "comfortable? I hear people say all the time, "I don't need to be a millionaire, I just want to live comfortably." I sit back and think about what that means. I am sure it means something a bit different to everyone. I will be the first to admit that a Million dollars WOULD make me feel comfortable. ;) But the truth is that the measure of being comfortable is as simple as this to me. I want to have enough money that all of my bills are paid with out hesitation. I want to own a nice vehicle and have plenty to eat. I have all three of those things. So am I "comfortable?" No, I do not consider myself comfortable when it comes to actual cash flow. I am certainly Not without, but not rich by any standards. So what do I consider to be really comfortable?
I love coffee. I crave and trust me, lol, I Need coffee in the morning to turn from "Mr. Hyde" back to myself. I enjoy donuts now and then. Perhaps, according to my "not as trim as I would like" physique, I enjoy them a bit too often. At ant rate, I enjoy things that are not so huge but that make me smile. There are mornings that I do not have the 3 dollars it takes to grab a coffee and donut. When that happens, it is not my stomach Nor my Physique that suffer. It is my mind. I work to keep money flowing from the sale of my novels and Internet work. I bring in a nice income and live nicely. But those times, which everyone I think has or has had somewhere in their lives, that I reach in my pocket and realize I do not have the funds to grab that coffee and donut are what separate me from living nicely and living comfortable.
So, when someone asks me what I define as a "comfortable" living... I say a hot cup of coffee and a cake donut, anytime I want. Silly? Simple? Too much to ask for? Well, I don't really know how to answer that but I do know that it is what I measure where I am with my life.

A Sign of the times...

Watching the news, I can not help but wonder where it is we are going in this world. Who will be held accountable for the things that are happening? I read about the scientist that are playing with the atom. Perhaps "playing" is a bad word to use as there is nothing fun nor o.k. with what they are doing. Their machine, that can create a powerful beam that is stronger, more devistating than 100 Nuclear Missles, has been tested again! It thrilled them to know they are so close to full strength. This machine has the potential to pull, through it's powerful magenetics, planets and atsroids from space and lay them right in our front yard!
Called by many, the "Doomsday Machine," it has all the needed power to destroy our planet and yet... we continue to tease fate. Under ground in a remote area of Switszerland lies a creation that man should step away from. 2012, the year set for the real test. A "test" that could jeapordise our very existance. Strange that it is the same time, predicted according to the scolars by the Mayan calender to be the end of times.And then... who will be responsible? Who will have to stand up and say "I did that!?" Are we really, as the {most intelligient} species, really too smart for our own safety????

Where do we draw the line????

As I sit here this morning, enjoying my coffee and thinking about my day, I see once again, the world has not disappointed me. I expect it to surprise me and astonish me... perhaps at times even disgust me and it has come through on all counts again. With Spring here and weather more perfect than I could ask for, I was prepared to sit and write about Spring. And then, something grabbed my attention that made my Spring write pale in it's presence.
Enter "Rapeplay."Yep, you read it right. THIS is the newest game to be introduced by the world. Japan has created and announced the animated game that allows you to be a rapist and in order to WIN, you must plan, attack, rape and then convince a woman to abort the child. If you do not complete every task, you are tossed in front of a train by your victim.
I sit an stare at the words I have written here and think "Really? Someone created a game of such vile disgust, a role play that promotes an act so heinous that we shudder at the very thought? I am reminded very quickly that the Bible says that in the End Days, anything man can imagine, he will be able to create. That Satan will be leashed on us and the anti-Christ will try to destroy all that is good and right. Do we need go much further than THIS!?!?!? IS it possible that we, as a people will truly allow a game that will teach our kids, some possible up and coming rapist and some that need only a little encouragement or Practice to follow through?
What we, as a people have the ability and the responsibility to do, one human to another, is to make certain that this game or anything even close to it, Never, Ever be allowed to be sold. Ban it and go to those that designed this game and take away their rights and ability to ever create another game. We must send a message that THIS is NOT O.k. And that we will NOT sit back and watch this game touch the lives of our people. I can not convey to you the depth of how my mind and heart feel, knowing that a game like this was even "Imagined", let alone that it was made.
We live today in a world that watches violence as a past time on our televisions. We seek out the worst horror movies and the scariest and filthiest movies, because we have become bored with the "you shoot, I shoot him" shows that are available today. We want MORE, More!!!! I am certain, beyond doubt, that if you had an arena, placed 3 or 4 randomly selected "Christians" in the center, added a lion or two and let the battle one another, you would fill the arena daily. Might even have to add a second show in the evening to accommodate all of the people that I Know would go to be a spectator. That is where the level of "what is hot" is today. If you think for one second that if Rapeplay is released, no one will buy it then you are sadly mistaken. It would sell and then, we would have people learning how best to Rape!
Ask yourself if you want your children, your brother or sister, your friends down- loading a game that will show them and allow them to hone up on their rape skills? Where do we draw the line as to what is going to be part of our world? What takes something to place that it is NOT Allowed? I hope your answer is This Game. I can only say this! Please just say NO to this disgusting game. Your mothers, daughters, sisters, friends will become the victims of this horrible game if it is allowed to surface! Do Not Allow this to happen. It might not be "just a game" one day.

Looking for extra income? I know right where to send you.

Survey sites that DO Pay!!!! My Proof...
Yes,yes, I know, you have tried them before and they aren't worth the time. Well today, I want to try and show you that it IS worth the time. I have been doing surveys a very long time. I have seen the Good, the Bad and the Oh believe me when I say... The Uglies! I spent many hours doing surveys, weeks of opening and closing and waiting to reach that "cash out" point only to find that the site was a scam.
"Oops, we are sorry, you "sneezed" wrong and so we are cancelling your account." OUCH!!! Through trial and error and good friends, I found a few that pay out and pay out nicely. Today, in a semi-self serving and reaching out to help moment, I am going to share some proof of a few sites that have helped greatly in my quest to do my Summer vacations and Christmas shopping. Now understand that if anyone reading this is a millionaire or even a "thousandaire" if that word exists, and simply doesn't need extra money, pleaseeeee, send it to me. ;)I can always use an extra 20.00 or 50.00.
Yessssss, I know... I could have just planted the proof and gone away but the truth is I love to write and take every opportunity to do so. So please, bare with me as i prove to you that this time next year, you could be blessing a lot of people with gifts that cost YOU nothing. That's a Christmas gift all in itself. As I post these sites, I ask only that you do one thing for me. Use the URL's that I add here to sign up under me. That way, we both get a gift from this. The Pics at the top of this blog show the proof. The Urls are down here. Please don't let this pass you by. What a blessing these sites were for me at this giving time of ">year.http://www.treasuretrooper.com/385263
This next one, the only way to get recognition for you joining under me is to add your e-mail to my referral. I will simply show you the payouts minus the name. If you wish to join, contact me, please.

Opinion Points Redeemed # Request Date Sent Points Redeemed Cash Value
1 12/8/2008 In Process 500 $50.00
2 11/24/2008 12/1/2008 100 $10.00
3 10/10/2008 11/3/2008 300 $30.00
4 09/6/2008 10/15/2008 50 $5.00

SurveySpot... There ARE more but for now, just imagine that these are only one month of pay and only for these three. Even at this amount per month, you would be putting nearly 70.00 away per month times 12 equals 840.00 at Christmas time. Can you use some of that? I hope so. Please check these sites out and get ready to have a "out of pocket free" Christmas next year. From me to you. Darrel

Strength in family...

This topic has been on my heart for many years and it is more important as well as potent than almost any matter we face today.
I can only write this by means of what I have been taught and learned over the years. Satan and the world has long sought ways to separate the family dwellings. The reason is, to take away the strength that is in the many. In order for the world to control us and Satan to reach each person, there had to be a separation of family ties. The strongest part of the family has always been the dinner table. It is where we find out what our children are doing and who they are seeing as friends. The world knew that if they could separate the family, they could gain control of the children and cause a gap in the ties that make a family strong.
The T.V. is said to be one of the greatest invention of our time. I say it was and remains the most destructive invention ever created. The T.V. tray became the place of choice to eat our meals. No longer were questions and conversations about what our children are doing asked. No more would we laugh together at our happenings or know what classes our children were taking, passing, failing. The conversation was replaced with the words "hush, I want to hear this part" or "I am trying to watch this show!" Our children follow our lead and when we get too involved in something other than their lives, they will take it elsewhere. The cost of t.v. taking the place of our children is immeasurable. The price is way too high and the loss too large to even imagine.
Strength is always more effective in numbers and as we watch the breakdown of our family ties, we are in fact witnessing the fall of our future. Satan is winning and we are losing the most precious gift of all. The computer has come to us amidst the already unstable structure of our families and added more separation. To have to walk into a computer room to have a conversation with our children is a sad state of affairs. It is just one more wall being built between us and our family. If we lose contact with our children and our family, then we lose everything precious to us. We need Discipline. We can take our children back. We can become strong as a family again. But first, we have to choose to do so. We must weigh the facts and find where we are lacking and then, shut the t.v. off or close down the computer if we are to regain our place as a family.
Can we reverse this fall? Can we become a family as it was meant to be? You would find, I believe, that your children would be most responsive to the change. They yearn for our attention and grow from our actions. We do have the power to make our family what it was before we had t.v. and computers. We must choose to do this because our home is not the only place that suffers for our separation from the dinner table. The whole country is truly at stake when we choose to watch a show over listening and talking with our family. No one will starve while waiting for the entire family to sit down. If a show is THAT important to you, record it and watch it after you have spent time with your family. You will find that you didn't miss a thing on t.v. And if you must turn the t.v. on then watch a family show that it is ok for your children to talk and ask questions during. You might learn something new about your kids AND yourself. It is up to You.

Balancing the Scale...

Spring has Sprung... I think. Sixty degrees when I went to bed and snow on the ground when I woke. Sounds like Spring to me. Well, at least in Iowa, U.S.A. So, I do the balancing act, as I do every year. I rush to get things done when it is nice and then huddle in the warmth of the house when the nasty weather rears it's head again. While thinking about this, I had another thought. Isn't that really what I do with my Life? Try and balance the good and the bad, while trying to process what makes me a good or bad person?
I look back through my life and try so hard to see the "good" man that many have tried to show me. As a youngster, I surrounded myself with those "less fortunate" than me. That is not to say I had More. It is writing of a time when I was my blind Brothers eyes and I made friends with kids that had any and every physical affliction one could imagine. My father was sometimes leery of opening the front door because he wasn't sure who would be standing there. Would it be the deaf kid from next door? Maybe it was the kid that was born without a nose, save the two holes that made up the center of his face. He might even find the boy that was born with one breast that grew like a girls while the other stayed flat like a boys. Whether they were blind, crippled, slower in thought or just Different in some way from other kids, they made up the group I hung with and called my friends. Money nor material things meant nothing to them. Friendship was the most valuable commodity and sadly sometimes, the most easily traded.
I played the balancing act in those days too. I would slip away to the river to meet friends that had No afflictions from time to time. But the two worlds rarely met and when they did, they simply were not compatible. I grew up following the same pattern. One side of my world, being a hero and the other side of the Spectrum, I was "freak" because no one could understand why I would hang with kids that were so unlike me. Was I a good kid or was I merely someone that felt more comfortable with kids that depended on me, looked up to me and appreciated me just for being there? I am still processing that one after 45 years.
Enter, present day. I think my father is still a little afraid to open my front door. He might still find someone standing there with afflictions that make them unacceptable or at the very least, avoidable by the rest of the world. Still trying to balance my life but now, it is for a different reason. I am trying to decipher of I am a good man or a not so good man that surrounds himself with reasons to look good to others.I want to believe so badly in my heart that the good and kind things I do today are because I simply have a good heart. I want to feel inside that I Have reached out to those "less fortunate" because of a love that was instilled in my soul many, many years ago and not because I am trying to find a balance in my life.
DO I Make any sense to you at all??? Welcome to my little world of Bipolar and uncertainties. Of black and white and Grey and Abstract thoughts. What truly gives cause to someone, anyone, calling me a good man? I have hidden from the world a often as I could. I have loved and left and have cheated on hearts that loved me simply because I was me. A confusing occurrence all in and of itself. Issues in my life that find me driving to the Lake, early on a calm, dark Spring morning, to sit, headlights on the river in front of me, and cry. To try and convince myself that I am worthy of the love and the friendships that are part of my daily living. To tell myself that I reach out and help people enough to balance the hurt and pain I cause those that choose to love me. Do the words "Good Man" apply to me, even though I have hurt so may over the years? For every wrong I do, making certain I do something that is right... Is that balancing or do the wrong always weigh more than the good?
I guess that I wonder... can one truly balance the scale once it is loaded with so much sorrow and remorse for causing someone to cry? I wonder...

Abductions and Until Death Do We Meet

Until Death Do We Meet and Abduction
Two powerful novels that will have you wanting to see the next page as quick as you can!!!

eroomservice.com...Modern Furnishings for a modern home.

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