The Heat Shall Feel the Heat

Due Process Shall Hold You Accountable!


This is a stream of consciousness thing because I'm stagnant and not wanting to stay there. I have this tendency to fall into ruts and let a blackness wash over me that literally keeps me from moving. It can be intermittent and it can be short, but it can also catch chance or other hurts or be independently stronger than usual and thus grab hold for longer, harder - and even to what seems frighteningly and despairingly like accelerations that, yes, even do at times have the helping hand of evil people doing evil things.

Evil people do exist. So does despair. And when an already despairing person meets an evil person, the results can and do sometimes include a bloodbath. Sometimes it's the evil person delighting in the ease of conquerability of his prey and the carnage that is his pallet from which he paints the indelible sin onto humanity's history. It's the taste of blood that begets the craving for yet more and more blood, and the carnage is thus an inevitable, even foregone conclusion at the hands of anyone but the most resolutely strong - who shall overcome his desire for violence and another's submission, and submit himself to the will of basic decency.

And sometimes the bloodbath is at the hands of the despairing, those hands that are already soaked with the blood from his own bleeding and aching and dying heart that just wants to find some peace and love and acceptance and a God-damned chance at the right thing and the right people and the freakin' decent thing to win once in a fucking while!

When the despairing become the desperate, through no choice or will of their own, it is the primal scream of all the basic and bassest and noblest of desires too that the will of a good heart should and must be indulged when that deed has no price borne by anyone else. When said right thing and happy warmth are denied out of the arrogantly and aggressively misplaced sense of the authority to do it just because you can - well, then Lord help the son of a bitch who puts such a vain and sinful exercise of human pride over the fulfillment of a destiny of sheer living and loving and expressing and enduring that is set by God Himself.

When that deadest of rocks that is the hope and hopes of the despairing meets the hard place that is the heart of he who should dare to assume the authority to deny the deserved happiness to another - then the only recourse is for one or the other to either move aside or become stronger.

What did I say about the primal scream? What did I say about the blood bath that is not desired but that will and should come as the non-moving, non-yeilding, stubborn regard of authority undeserved yet holds its groundless ground? As this not moving is the enveloping blackness that shall consume me whole lest I beat or consume it, as surely as the coming of death itself, I must take the action and break the stalemate. As this rock and hardplace stare each other down, the blackness does gain its own strength. That cannot stay. It must not stay. It WILL NOT STAY! That is *my* promise. I said and say that this state must NOT endure, and that as one course has not taken place, so must the other.

SO MUST THE OTHER!

Look out Officer Christopher O'Sullivan. Look out Sergeant Anne Holland. Look out Massasoit. I am bloody well coming!