It is bloody violent. The battles we are in, and are culturally encouraged to be in, may be laced with notions like good sportsmanship, but are nonetheless a type of warfare. When groups of men come together to overpower, one man, who is weak, that is a sad situation. When people illegally gather information about a person, and distort this information, knowing the person was already injured and hurt him not only physically, but also damage his reputation, that is sad.

It is also sad to see someone seek about a person, and use this person because you will just make an individual dislike you. This has happened to me, and I often felt powerless because I was trying to build a career and looking for a male role model, but instead these men because jealous and deviant. They enjoy shaming me. It brings them pleasure, and they caused me injuries and walk around acting like they did nothing. This type of behavior has made me distance myself for the terrified, oh so vulnerable little boy in me, and has actually frozen my heart hard. My pain has been shifted into intellectual stimulation.

Knowledge is power, and instead of getting upset, I have been using this time and energy to study everything I can get my hands on, from stories about rappers, physics, religion, economics, and psychology. Instead of focusing on how these people have violated me and hurt me, I believe that pain is weakness leaving the body, and that I will heal myself and my reputation and that God will turn this situation around, and I will come out of it much strong and ready to take on more responsibility. Victory is a grail that promises great satisfaction.

After all, I have had two spinal surgeries, one when I was eight, and it took 13 hours, the doctor said I would never be able to walk again, but I did not believe him. A few weeks later I was up an walking again. However, because of some complications, I had to have another spinal surgery a decade later, and almost bled to death, but I am still living. And more recently, I was assaulted and now have two compression fractures of the vertebrae on my spine, and a group of reporters have been taunting me relentlessly and slandering me, which will make finding employment kind of difficult, but I am sure I will overcome these challenges two, after I heal, of course.

Sometimes the pain is so unbearable that it hurts to walk, it even hurts to type, but I cannot just sit here and doing nothing because sitting too long hurt, too. I have no employment history, and am self-educating, so if someone asks me, “What have you been doing with your times?” I want to be able to show them. Nonetheless, I have been meeting some men, a few of them journalist, who have been very supportive and most of the lady journalist have always been very caring and supportive.

My goal is to demolish those who want to fight me by out smarting them. The point is not to defeat them, but to reroute this negative energy into something healthier, some that can benefit everyone because many people have the same experiences. And it is unfathomable that a group of powerful men would want to harass someone and injure him to the point he is close to becoming homeless.  And in their savage encounters with each other, these power forcing men are actually bonding, forming a cult, and enjoy inflicting pain. They want to emasculate me with their schizophrenic powers.

Power should be used to empower others, but what people do with their power simply defines them and reflects their priorities. Nothing is more illuminating than how people use the power they have. Such an abuse of power can turn the World into an empire of battles, but we can also use these attacks to become more intelligent and make sure that when we come into power, we never abuse others in the same right. You see, the mind and power will get sick of them pain, and eventually we can terminate it, and when others find out what is really going on here and see how eloquently we overcame these obstacles, it will make us more attractive, and opportunities will power it.

The reason I am saying we and us is because I am not alone, others are facing battles and challenges, too. And in the process, it will allow us to get to know ourselves better, and operate as a fully human being, while the critics are still humanoids. It seems to me that instead of continuing discussing what they have done, the critics would come together and figure out how to resolve the matter before they attraction attention of powerful men and women who want to punish them.

I have learned that a lot of men, and some women that I admired were arrogant and irresponsible, but I want to come from a more mature place. So I am trying to use the power I have to heal, awaken, and help others. When you share your power, it allows you to form intimate relationships and people will learn to like you and will feel like they know you, and this is how God will turn your situation around.

Use your power to protect. “If we do not recognize and have some degree of intimacy with whatever in us can dehumanize or abuse others, however, civilized or rational its demeanor (savages do wear suits and have slick hairstyles) we pose a danger not only to ourselves, but to other, no matter how nicely we generally behave. What really matters here is not so much the presence of this inner darkness, but the kind of relationship we choose to have with it,” reports Dr. Robert Augustus Masters, PHD. And I really wanted a male role model, even though I have yet to connect with them in person, I have been using social media to interact with them, and they have been a huge benefit to my redevelopment.

Like spinal surgery, a healthy challenge may be extremely ferocious and it can be delicate. It can be emotionally vital and it can be emotionally damaging to the central nervous system. However, whatever the case may be, it is necessary to sustain life. There is nothing trifling, mundane, or haphazard about this task, it is serious. Even when it is gently conveyed, it keeps its spine, without snapping the spinal cord, leaving it as flat as a rice noodle, or weakening the central nervous system.

Is my heart open, and if not, why? Well, it seems that I have been having some thought distortions. I incorrectly assumed that young were not worth my time because they were immature, brain dead, and full of conflict, and that I should focus on people in their 40s and 50s. However, what I have found is that a lot of people in their 40s and 50s are what I expected from the youth, sloppy, sarcastic, disrespectful, and losing touch with humanity.

I came in contact with a young man this weekend, by mistake. I thought that he was someone else and started talking to him, and to my surprise, he was very mature, eloquent, well spoken, mature, and addressed me by my proper title. This young man also shared an interest in photography, and the City of Sacramento.

We had several good conversations, and he actually inspired me to get out and reexplore Sacramento. You see, I was kind of depressed from dealing with an emotionally abusive and cantankerous old man, who is depressed, and wants me to feel sorry for him, while he is bare backing around the county, taking vacations, and sleeping with someone’s husband to be.

This old man really depressed me, I started withdrawing, and becoming sad. And then I thought about how much fun this young man was having and decided to take his advice and go to old Sacramento and enjoy a life play. Of course I was late, and missed the play because I let someone draw me into their drama. I learned this was also a moral, do not allow someone else’s problem become yours, while they are out having fun, you will be missing out on the beauty of life, and may find yourself racing to catch up.

This old man has baggage and may not be the type of person I want to be around. Perhaps I am required to stop being so judgmental and leave the old people alone, and get to know people who have not made a ton of mistakes and are happy with life. Men tend to be more at ease with the delivery of this than with the reception of it, so sometimes the greater challenge is not to let one’s reactivity to being challenged get in the way of opening to it (assuming that such challenge is not abusive).

Sometimes I am just required to run away from what is being presented, saying no to what others are insisting is right for us to pursue, so we might fully align ourselves with more worthy, more relevant challenges. While this old man has spent about six months using and abusing me, another nice man has been there uplifting me, sharing nice words and pictures with me and making me smile, and I feel it is only fair to him to kick the dirt back to the curb. My edge is the experiential zone where my deepest, most relevant growth happens. I have started turning towards my fears, my pain, my grief, my shame, and my failings, everything I kept in my shadow.

Such encounters, such as the one with the dirty old man brought me to the edge and out in the open. This other nice man, says I am a good guy and he knows it, he knows exactly who I could be, and just hold on. It is hard to take on an entire city all alone. I have to learn to say no. If I am to be my true size, I am required to embody who and what I truly am. However, I was required to spend time with that dirty old man, so he could push me to the edge, so that I would get so tired of users and open my eyes to other possibilities.

As my friendliness expanded, I felt the circle losing some tension. The knives were put away, and soon all the dirty old men left. I had rushed in in a peak of raw masculine force. Being at the edge brought forth what worked; all I had to do was not hesitate to cooperate with it. This does not mean that danger has to be present, but there is definitely a risk involved, whether it be damaging my reputation or speaking truth that might radically alter my life direction.

If it is easy, asking nothing much from you, it is not your edge. I knew I was at my edge because I was required to go ahead even when it was uncomfortable and I was in fear. My core wounds were open, and this undertaking left me uncommonly vulnerable, it took real guts to persevere into real manhood, which is a gift to one and all. I had to break the grip that my illusions had on me, even though the noose was ready to go. I finally learned that I do not have control nor freedom.

However, the benefit is I know see people for who they are. I am extraordinarily alive, featuring vivid proximity to immense danger, and immense opportunity. Enough suffering, these conditions grabbed me by the neck, providing me with the roughness I needed, and leaving bruises on my neck that still have not gone away. This, of course, was far from pleasant, but the darker the connotation of disillusionment, the more difficult sobriety of character becomes, a catalyst for waking up, a great opportunity.

And the dirty old man, who I will call Peter, is having a birthday on 10 September 2015, and I am going to give him the best gift every by removing myself from his life, and leaving him to his Mandingo, law school tramp, and teenaged groom, so they can worship him and gratify his body just like he likes, while they continue to drain his bank account, and make him more unattractive to the masses. God bless you and peace is with you, Peter. So incredible the way things work themselves out, never would have made it very far.

You think you know, but have no idea. I have seen many men fighting their tears, trying to brush them back or deny them, struggling to repress their pain or emotions. Think how you would feel if you were a young man, who was socially engineered to date men, fell in love with your own father, and had no idea, who he was, and still be in denial about it, only to find out he was receiving oral sex for a fresh out of high school foreign exchange student, who is getting married, and that he was also dating a young woman, who was young enough to be his daughter and resembled his teenage daughter as well?

And while you are sitting at home depressed, your dad was showing off his teenage boyfriend, who is just hours away from getting married. Or his masculine Mandingo lover, who are not nearly as attractive as you, but one sucks like he is Dracula, and the other Fs like a master.  And the tramp is easy to control and always in the mood for cheap sex, university tuition is not cheap. And you thought your family was messed up. However, to make matters even more complicated, you actually want to end your relationship with your father because he does not spend any time with you, but also know that you are part of an extremely vulnerable population, and may need him in the very near future.

These types of stories are not that uncommon among the elite. However, they are mostly above the law, not the toys, but the players are. You often do not hear about the fifteen year old daughter, who is pimped out to a business partner to close a deal, or the son, who is tricked into sharing a room, for the weekend, with the contractor so the family gets free labor. Nor do you hear about the Mayor and reporters who get away with slandering a young man, and having him physically hurt, while he is under threat to keep him in control.

These are the type of stories that do not make headlines. These youth are often abused, and they cannot turn to anyone for help. The police will not touch these types of cases, as they do not want their lives ruined. The head coach pretends to be helping you, but lets you know if you speak up they will have you locked away. Yet the community hears the noise, sees the frequent bruises, but no one does anything to actually help the toy being used in the game.

The young man speaks up about being stalked and harassed, and expresses his concern about a reporter showing up unannounced in his apartment, having a birthday party at his family members house, and using a computer at his family home, and the media organization threatens to have the young man prosecuted and sue him if he speaks up. These people are caught up in some kind of trap and have no way out.

You need money, but cannot work because of security concerns and injuries, and everyone know you have no hope, so they are able to control you and do as they please, but you better not step out of line. There are people you would actually like to date, but in the past when people get close to you they back off because they get weird phone calls while they are out with you. And some fear if they date you, someone might ruin their career, but being friends with you seems to help them gain recognition and status.

You are so desperate for freedom, you actually try to sell yourself, and that does not work out.  Yes, this young man is full of shame, and people know what is going on, but everyone pretends not to. As he sits there racking his brains, thinking about how to escape, he knows that it is very likely that if he does go on an internet dating site, and meets up with a person, it is very likely that he will be assaulted, but not only that dreads the thought of having some musty lustful beast near him.

And you thought you had problems? Looks like being black, gay, or trans is really not so difficult in comparison, they have freedom to walk the streets and express themselves. While most people are spoiled and think they are too good for a job, this young man has been seeking a way out for more than a decade and as time goes on, there seem to be less and less options. He does not have any friends, is always being evaluated, and under threat is being cut off from the sum of money, which is just enough to keep him in his trap.

Being religious, the young man knows he cannot commit suicide, and keeps praying to God. He admits that he is ashamed, vulnerable, and has trust issues, but if one day you work up with your car destroyed and bruises from head to toe, I am sure you would have issues, too. He is living in a shadowland of darkness and knows there is nowhere to run, and no one he can turn to, all he can do is wait it out, and pray for the best. People think being young and gay and on a sports team is a horrible prison, but their only barrier from happiness is in their mind.

Challenge calls out the warrior in a man, the one who tests, hones, and refines himself through his encounters with difficult or unusual conditions. His challenge is more than a cocktail of testosterone, adrenaline, and manning up pressures; more than shame driven opportunity to validate or showcase his manliness; and more than something done to meet someone else’s standards.

He is trying to stay alive, well, and find a way out of this game, while everyone sits back and watches, as if they cannot do a thing, but observe, antagonize, bully, and tell him about the wonderful options in this beautiful World, as if they have no idea he is not safe. The main difference is others who go through this usually have more money and more luxury. They can afford four lines of coke to cheer them up, or a trip to London to cure a love fit, but I guess to keep one’s virtue, you take away the money. I suppose if he ends up dead, that will be when heads will roll. Nothing lasts forever.

Allen sometimes tears up while watching movies, but he has not cried for many years.  He has heard that it is not good to keep one’s emotions undercover, but feels compelled to not lose face (damage his reputation) under any conditions. His friends describe him as a nice guy. He grinds his teeth while he sleeps, often dreaming of a young boy hiding in a dark bathroom, a boy he wishes would just go away. Allen had never told anyone about his dream.

When he was a boy he was severally bullied; whenever he cried, he was hurt even more. It took a while, but he learned to numb himself in order to present a stoic, friendly- looking front. Pure survival. He equates showing any vulnerability with danger, and views it as a signaling of weakness. He does not see how this contributes to his difficulty in having relationships that possess real depth.

Vulnerability, unguarded openness, does not have to mean weakness or lack of masculinity. It can be an act of courage, and a source of strength.  In vulnerability, there is a transparency and capacity for self-disclosure that can help deepen our connection with others. Becoming more vulnerable asks that we stretch beyond our comfort zone but the resulting increase in depth, vitality, and connection make doing so worthwhile. Without vulnerability, there is no intimacy.

“You used to call me on my cell phone late night when you need my love. I know when that hotline bling, that can only mean one thing. Ever since you left the city you have a reputation for yourself now. Everybody knows and I feel left out. Girl, you got me down, you got me stressed out because since I left the city, you started wearing less and going out more. Glasses of champagne out on the dance floor, hangin’ with some girls I have never seen before. You have exactly what you asked for, running out of pages in your passport.”

“These days, all I do is wonder if you are bending over backwards for someone else, doing things I taught you, getting sexy for someone else. You do not need no one else. Why are you never alone? Why you always touching road, used to always stay at home, be a good girl, you was in the zone talking about ‘breathe on me, monogamy is the way to go,’ you should just be yourself right now, you are someone else.”

Vulnerability does not always mean leaving the door wide-open; for example, if it does to feel right to associate with some people, but you know it is safe to do so, openly admit that you are nervous, such admission itself is an act of vulnerability. Or if you are with someone you know you cannot trust with your vulnerability, do not allow them in your circle because then you become unnecessarily vulnerable. Be discerning with your vulnerability. Vulnerability can be a risk, especially emotionally, but not doing what we can to access it is a bigger risk. However, virtue alone is an estate.

I know how to heal third degree burns of character in myself, and I can help improve the image of others, but if you are not right in the head, you need to step up your mental. I can make you shine, but it may not last if it is not an authentic change. Staying present with your shame takes far more courage than converting it into aggression. Neither indulging in your shame nor avoiding it furthers the authentic warrior in you, the one who can step into the fire of deep challenge and remain present, without numbing himself or emotionally disconnecting.

Being present with your shame takes guts. It also deepens your capacity for vulnerability and compassion, and therefore also your capacity for being in truly intimate relationship. I experienced an overwhelmingly painful relations and it brought me to my knees with such pronounced impact, fracturing my spine and emotional armor, leaving lumps the size of golf balls on my head, and busted knees and elbow.

However, I knew I had to change, so I started to invoke the very tenderness and softness that I had so desperately fled as a boy, rediscovering my heartland, finding and gradually embodying a power that served something deeper than my egocentric ambitions. Being in pain and having your life ruined before you even get your first job is not easy, and then trying to rebuild your image by expressing yourself so people can know me, not these short stories and skits they hear.

Being vulnerable is scary, but at the same time it makes me feel more alive and connected to the community, opening doors that had been closed tightly since I was a boy. And thought my armoring did not disappear, I still found myself crying on the inside, “I wish my dad was here,” however, I have learned to appreciate the people who are in my life, and even start to dislike him more and more every day. My dad is ceasing to be my go to strategy whenever pain arises, and I am sure that is what he wants, he wants me to ignore him and totally push him out of my life.

I grew up with the understanding that being a man meant working hard, providing for your family, and keeping a good image. Men were supposed to usually be nice to everyone and show everyone respect. Television reporters where heroes to me, especially the ones who would stick to the script, but have some thoughtful commentary with the story they were presenting. Sam Shane was always one of my favorites. With those big blue eyes and that platinum blonde hair, and his smooth voice, I always knew he was telling the truth.

Since moving on from Mr. Shane, I have a few other favorites like Dale Schornack, and many more. The news was as exciting to me as a Western starring Marshal Matt Dillon. I would sit back, at the start of each episode, with my flat screen color television, my prepubescent legs clinched tightly together, my eyes wide open, and my note book writing down everything the reporters said, then posting it on Myspace and Twitter. This was good information, stuff I could not find in any textbook.

Sometimes I would stand up before the screen and talk to Matt, but of course he could not really hear me. My mother sometimes remarked that my father resembled Matt Dillion. However, my main hero was Rebecca Jarvis. Again and again, she captured those economic reports, after a mighty struggle, and made them so interesting. I even began to learn more core information about the meteorologist reports.

For instance, when low pressure moves in, the air usually cools down and temperature reduce. High pressure usually means it is going to be hot. And when one coast has low pressure, the heat generally moves to the other coast. Also, low pressure systems usually, in the right season, produce rain. I turned these reporters into superheroes , I even expressed that some of them had powers, so be careful what you say about them, they just might here you.

As I got older, I found out that many of these reporters are not simply journalist, some of them also work for the FBI and CIA, and that is how they get such privileged information, they are highly skilled investigators. However, there are some who are trouble makers, and actually just reporters, and this information was confirmed by  Luis Falcon III CIA Technical Advisor.

I never really wanted to be a reporter, but I feel like it is in my blood, with my name and all. One of the nation’s lead reporters, and often credited with birthing the news was William Randolph Hearst, a media mogul and amazing architect, he also wants me to express that he was a nice guy. I have a lot in common with Mr. Hearst and am very proud of my name. As I got older, and experienced life, I noticed that many of the bad guys are actually good and secretly began cheering for them because they are stoic and invulnerable, more tough than many of the good guys.

I also looked up to men like Pablo Escobar, Al Capone, and Machine Gun Kelly, those men did not play around. I was concerned about the morality of what was going on, and how so many people took advantage of others, and put the police in the cross hairs, and it opened my eyes, many people who frequently call the police are the real trouble makers. The raw power being demonstrated by these bad guys was seductive, and my desire to overcome or overpower my father was starring to surface more and more insistently. I started to look at him as wimp.

There is an ape man, who loves to harass me, actually serval of them, so I figured that my father is dead. He must have had to face unscrupulous hunters who carried guns. How could my dad just sit back and let these ape men attack me? Still, I clung to what he epitomized, setting excessively high standards for myself, losing myself in the excesses of news, and it brought on some very unwanted attention. Now, I feel like a kid, trying to save himself, calling on a father, who I feel is actually using me, so I consider him dead. I do not suppose you could just assume I manifested his mausoleum. Through him, I not only contacted my dormant courage but also made a virtue out of invulnerability.

I am still trying to conquer my environment, block my father out, and even stop calling on him telepathically.  Why bother with a man who is not there when help is required? I am infusing myself with more sophisticated versions of my superman dad, and trying to be a father and counselor to men and women, some who are even older than me. Other boys, their fathers found them government jobs, but I feel like mine likes to taunt me.  Having a job I could do, which would work with my schedule and not bring me physical pain is what I require. However, even typing these stories, although they bring me joy, causes substantial pain. I am so tired of trying to be a man, wish someone would save me, because no one should have to experience this much pain every day.

Evil must die ultimately as the weaker element, in the struggle with good. The persistence of force, manifested in the forms of matter and motion, is the stuff of human inquiry, the material with which philosophy must build. Everywhere in the Universe man observes the incessant redistribution of matter and motion, rhythmically apporitoned between evolution and dissolution. Evolution is the progressive integration of matter accompanied by dissipation of motion; dissolution is the disorganization of matter accompanied by the absorption of motion.