And the rain falls down

"And my heart grows warmer, my soul weary, and my eyes wet, like the rain in the sky, as I count away the days, and pine for her, my love, my treasure, to return to my arms where she belongs..."

As I said previously, I will be touching for a moment, upon the matter of the heart, (which is in truth, the heart of the matter) as I feel like I must comment upon the matter.

Our hearts are wounded, time and again, throughout our lives, many times, when we are younger, and mostly in our formative years. There is no escaping this fact. And anyone who would dispute it is an arrogant fool, or a callous fiend.

Allow me to be blunt, and personal; it is my perspective that the truth of life, for humanity, is that everything has two parts, two sides, and for the most part, they are divided into male, and female. I don't hold with the whole ideal of men having a "feminine side" or women having a "masculine" side because I honestly don't see it, and I don't see how it could be that way. I am NOT discounting that there are traits of one that the other might have, or that one can not ascribe to the tendency's of the other, but that rather, in the aforementioned moments where that does happen, we are seeing secondary traits "crossover" in a sense, because there are a very few core traits that do NOT cross over between the genders.
Ever.

Don't believe me? Try this out; Watch a group of small children at play, and notice that most if not all of the little girls are talking and playing house or tea party or playing with their hair or something of that nature, then notice how most of not all of the little boys are busy rough housing, playing army, or super heroes, cops and robbers, or making all sorts of war like sound effects like machine guns and bombs and airplanes and the like.

Now contrast that with a bunch of teenagers, and you will see the same core behaviour ideals, in a much more socially driven context, and also note how certain aspects seem to be more universal between the genders.

Now that I feel I have made my point, allow me to explain something else; Within the heart of mankind are two core sets of questions, derived from a single question that we have had ingrained in us from the dawn of time: "Am I loved?"

The breakdown of then becomes a set of questions for men, and another set for women.
The questions men carry within themselves is; "Am I worthy? Do I have what it takes? Am I strong? Am I a force to be reckoned with? Do I have something to live for? Am I prized? Am I needed?"

And for you ladies, your questions that you carry within yourselves are; "Am I valued? Am I prized? Am I desired? Am I wanted? Am I needed? Am I cared for? Do I have what is needed? Am I worth fighting for?"


They are the questions that haunt us, if only it seems, because they are the questions that are rarely voiced. And they are the questions that open us up to both the greatest blessings, and the greatest curses we will ever have within ourselves.

Personally, my biggest wound, my biggest questions, where in the realm of acceptance, and understanding. So few people truly understand me, and I am speaking on a very deep and personal level, not just he common shallow levels most people rely on. I have been questioned, mocked, demonized, and shunned for how I am, for how I see things, for what I do, for choices I make, and for actions I have preformed, and with very few exceptions (wherein I was in fact wrong and or knew better) it was always born from others not fully understanding or accepting me for who and what I am.
I am wild at heart, I am a cowboy, a warrior, a love, a fighter, a champion, and a knight, I am a king in training, and a sage in the making. I am me. I am strange, I am odd, I am creative, I am myself.

Consider that for a moment, having the core of who you are wounded, mocked, beguiled, devalued.
How many times did someone question me and my views on something? How many times was I made to feel as if something was wrong with me? How many times was I made to question my strength? How many times was I made to forsake my true nature?

I cannot count even half of them...


I am convinced that there is a very fine line males must walk on the road from boy to man, to truly become a man, is a never ending quest, a lesson never quite mastered, a destination never exactly reached, yet it is vital.
To define manhood as something so simple as a matter of tasks or accomplishments, is foolish, trivial and rancidity perverse. Honestly now, so you're a male who has copulated with a female? big deal. Or perchance you have injured another male in a contest of physical might? Whopitdy doodle.
And the list goes on...

The same is true for women, however I shall not dive deeply into that, as I feel to do so is foolish and pointless. I am not female, I lack total understanding of the subject from their perspective, and partial understanding is not enough to give me a leg to stand on here.

But ask yourself this Internet; how many times did you feel that tiny little prick in your heart when you did something, or said something or wanted something, and it was denied? Taken away? Mocked?
What is that one thing within you that has suffered most?

That is the core of who you are, and dollars to donuts, its been wounded, and wounded badly.
What is the fix?

There is no easy answer, and for the moment, I do not have the urge to try and give one or even my thoughts on what steps might be taken, but I will say this in closing; Fight for your heart, fight for who you are deep down inside, claw and bite and shout for the more noble things within your heart, and do not let go should you ever grasp them...

More next time trolls.


Laugh, Love, Endure,
~Caleb

Data Dump

Well hello again Internet, did you miss me?
I hope so, I missed you, after a fashion anyway.

So yeah, down to brass tacks, I've no clue where to start, where I'm going or where this will end, I just know that I need to write right the frackin hell now, or my mind will pack up it's things, take the chillens and leave me forever.


Eight months, sixteen days, four months, two and one half years, two weeks, six years, five days, fifteen hours, one year, six months...

Time is the one all-powerful constant intangible, undeniable, variable and measure that remains outside of both our direct control and total understanding. How old is the earth really? A few thousand years or a few trillion? Billion? Zillion?
Or the stars? Rocks? Air? Water?
How long will I live? Or you? Or the car?

Time marches on, and in the grand scale of this universe, it would seem that our lives are but a particle on a atom on the molecule in the elements that make up the water in a bucket lost in the vastness of the middle of an endless sea of time and space that reality and existence as we know it seem to be, and yet we still mark our petty little specks of time with a religious fervor that numbs itself and us with a disturbing ease.
Do you have the time? What time is it? It's time to eat! I don't have time for this! Who's time are you on? She's living on Tulsa time...

And yet time is the bedrock that the roadway of life is built upon, as sure as you are reading this and I am thinking this up to type for you to read, establishing a relationship of writer/poet/author/thinker/philosopher/blogger and reader/critic/fan/thinker/troll, based upon the choices to write, and to read, exampling the core essence of why the universe works, while enjoying the how.

Choices, decisions, relationships, cause and effect.

Time. Too much or too little, it's always there, and I for one am currently SICK of it.

December 27th will be when I get my girl back where she belongs, into my arms, if only for a short time, and I could stand for life to stop tossing me curve balls tween now and then, and for time to move faster dammit.

My heart grows sick with the cold simmer of separation, and the pangs of absence.

More on the heart next time when I'm not feeling so spaced and bitchy and grumpy.

Live. Love. Endure.
~Caleb