And Just like That….My Writers’ Block is Gone…

16 Sep

 

 

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So here I am, sitting in my quiet and cozy nook in Highland, Indiana. Yep, that’s right. The United States. Here I am, foreign…confused…sickly from the toxic wasteland that is this place…and exhausted with humanity once again. But it’s okay!  It’s good for me…or so I reckon… I suppose this is what fuels one’s fire…or something like that. It’s more than that. It’s visceral. My lungs are weak and my chest is heavy. My shoulders ache with carrying the weight of the world…My mind cannot focus nor sleep…my brain, fogged. I bet you, my beloved readers, are expecting some sort of really cool story as to why I am here. I had that. I wrote five pages of a boring narration of my every movement until now….but something was missing. I wasn’t inspired. I had writers block. I had no passion in it, or the motivation to put my heart on paper. That was it…there was no heart, just words and events leading up to now…sitting here, drinking a warm and delicious Belgian Monk brew that was a loving “Welcome Back” gift from my dear friend Meghan. Here…now…with all of these thoughts floating in the atmosphere of my mind in total unorganized chaos. There were so many things leading up to this, but all that I can do is think about what I am feeling in this moment. My writers block of three painful months…three months of deciding what the hell to do with my potential…what to do with my life…and letting go of my Love, New Zealand. I’m not sad. That’s not true. I’m happy. I’m happy that New Zealand helped me become…Me…I wouldn’t be on the Road Less Traveled if I held onto everything that I loved simply because I wanted to. How selfish?! No. My soul is bigger than what I could offer New Zealand. My soul…it belongs in Africa. That’s the next big move on my chess board of Life. That’s also the last. Mama Africa is calling my soul, and I cannot ignore her, for her voice is too mighty. Because I listened when I was a child…because everyone believed in me…because everyone told me I can be anything…and I believed, still believe. It is my duty as a human, to rectify the horror which we have plagued this poor planet and all of its Life with. It’s my duty…because I am no better than the murderers on the street if I know that it happens and sleep at night…I am not better than the millionaire who looks past the homeless man on the street if I, too, know that he is there, hungry, when I am feasting on my filet minon in my warm shelter…I am no better than the assholes throwing rubbish everywhere and wasting resources if I am not actively doing everything that I can to the fullest extent. I am on no pedestal. Because, you see, we are in this thing together. This whole Life thing…and, to quote Dr. Seuss’s Lorax “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, Nothing’s going to get better. It’s not.” So…what will we all do with that? What will I do with that? What will be big enough? Well, I’ll start. Here is my contribution to this poor, dying, plagued planet. Our one true Mother-Mother Earth. She gave birth to us, and this is how we repay her? With pollution…plastic islands…murder…rape…hatred…war…abuse…using all her resources…oil spills…nuclear meltdowns that pollute 80% of her waters which house innocent (now unwillingly radioactive) Life…? Is this how we repay her?

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Vomit. That is what comes to mind. That is only the smallest visceral portion of how I feel. Angry. Sad. Disappointed…to name a few…oh, and disgusted to the very essence of my existence. We, fellow humans, are a plague. We are the cancer that exists on this poor planet. So, I will start. I will dedicate the entire rest of my life to teaching sustainability on the world’s most desperate continent. I will teach Love. I will give Love. I will save the forests from being mowed down, and all of the beautiful flora and fauna that will never exist again because of these horrific actions…You see, the problem is not a lack of housing, food, or clothing…we have enough. Mother Earth is so generous to us. You can break a limb from a tree and plant it, and a tree will grow. Bob Elderberry taught me that in Cambrian…No…it’s not a lack of abundance. It is the lack of Love on this Earth that plagues us. There is enough food, shelter, and clothing to feed, house, and clothe the entire planet…unfortunately there is not even the slightest amount of Love anymore as a whole. People are “zombified” by fast paced life and lose their very souls. Does this piss you off? It pisses me off! I am offering my Life. And if I die by the hand of another doing something noble and beautiful for the world, then so be it! That is the risk I am willing to take in order to make a difference. The “someone else will do it” attitude is absolutely unacceptable. Disappointment. Humanity? What a joke. Hostile? Yeah, I am. I am bloody fed up. Perhaps that is the fuel that I need for my fire. Here is what helped inspire me…the tool that broke my writers block.

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I watched a movie. How simple, right? This particular film was an action comedy remake of a true story. It involved murderers and robbers, torture, pain, suffering, and lots of gruesome blood. “OH COOL!” Right?! “What a GREAT form of entertainment!” NOT! I mean, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Even if it weren’t a true story, it would still sicken me. But leave it to us. Leave it to the Americans to create a bloody COMEDY out of this. My stomach is sick. I need a drink to calm my nerves in order to fully endure what I witnessed. How sick am I that I found things comedic the first half hour (before the bloodshed of course…). Once I saw where it went, I was appalled, but made myself finish it to try and make sense of this. This, is what we as a society accept as ENTERTAINMENT. It’s never enough for us either…more blood, more guts, more “action”…MORE MORE MORE!!! What is this? What kind of savages have we subconsciously allowed ourselves to become, dear Zombies? Since when is this okay? And we just can’t figure out why humans are aggressive…why we kill and rape and steal. We have been desensitized to torture…to bloodshed…to our very own souls.

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This evening as my mother was driving me home, there was an ambulance. She, working for that ambulance company, immediately cringed…She cringed at the terrifying thought of what could possibly be happening, because she will be filling out the paperwork for the tragic event in the morning. Then she opened up her heart. My mother is a tough woman. I’ve seen her cry maybe once. Maybe. She could get her leg sawed halfway off, duct tape it back on, and never even mention it to anyone. She’s as tough as nails, but with a big heart. She gives it to everyone and doesn’t allow her own things to get in the way of her giving. But this upset her. She was genuinely concerned. Then she began to tell me stories of all of the horrific things that she has had to write up…neglected children…savage butchering of other humans with machetes…just around the corner. (AND PEOPLE ARE WORRIED ABOUT ME GOING TO AFRICA? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING?!!! TAKE A LOOK AT YOUR NEIGHBOR!!!) Sick. I am sick. My emotions are visceral. I have a soul. A heart. I care “a whole awful lot”.  Then I come home and watch a “family movie”…about these things that we accept. (Unless they happen to us, of course). Have we been sleeping? Who let this slide through the cracks? When did we become so self-righteous? When did we become so entitled? I am disgusted.

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So there you have it. I am back, and it probably won’t last too long…and yeah…I have cool stories, but I also have a purpose. I am focusing on that. My priority #1 is Africa. I am getting my ducks in a row, raising money, saving money as soon as I make it, potentially going to live in Albuquerque where I can at least be around a culture that isn’t so goddamn superficial and judgmental as the Midwest, gain a bit more knowledge, do a wildlife course and survival training in South Africa, and get off my fat, lazy, overfed American ass and do something about this horrific crisis that our beloved Mother Earth is in. Bam. That’s me. Love and Light to you, my beloved readers. Please, please take this to heart. If you are offended, that’s not my problem, it’s your own shit…and you are probably offended because you feel guilt. You feel guilt because, well, you are guilty. And that’s ok. I too, am guilty. It’s what we choose to do about our guilt that matters…What do you choose to do? 

 

 

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3 Responses to “And Just like That….My Writers’ Block is Gone…”

  1. kimmiewilson September 16, 2013 at 6:25 am #

    Oh goodness, I need to clarify something. This has been coming up a lot. The “So, Kim, why the hell are you going to dedicate your life to saving the people of Africa when we have places in the States that need help?” Well, here is my answer with all my heart to that question. (Which has usually only been asked by people who have never been outside of the US bubble, mind you…) It all boils down to choice. In the USA, we have a choice. Poor people get food stamps, minorities get free college, druggies and convicts get many chances (in most cases…) etc. But even when it goes below that…homeless people…they have access to clean water, hell, they can dumpster dive behind a 5 star restaurant and eat better than I can afford to because some snob took one bite of their $100 steak and didn’t care for it anymore. They can go to any hospital and get some of the greatest treatment on the planet. There are choices. There is always a choice in America. I grew up in poverty, and I have 5 pieces of paper from University/colleges that I worked hard and paid for. There is always a choice. The people that I want to help do not have the choices we do. There isn’t clean water, soap to wash their hands, a dumpster to dive from and feast, medicine… they die from things that no one should die from because there isn’t a choice…they want an education…they want Hope. I want to be that option. I want to be their Hope. I am their Hope. That…that is why I do not sympathize in the same way with the (mostly) self inflicted issues in this country.

  2. heidelbergaddict September 16, 2013 at 10:08 pm #

    True words! We live in a world that wastes too much…
    Also a lot of people dont have the opportunity to choose their way of life.

    You are doing the right, kim.

    I have native family in albuquerque if you need help.

    -thomas

  3. kimmiewilson September 17, 2013 at 6:55 am #

    Also, regarding my last blog, I need to clarify this. Just because I plan to dedicate my life to Africa & rant about people not caring or doing enough, doesn’t mean that I think everyone needs to do that. Take smaller steps to save the world. For example, recycle, pick up rubbish when you see it on the streets (other people will see & wonder why they don’t care), compost, & if you don’t know what to do with it then give it to me, plant a tree, let a truckie in when you’re on the interstate, make life easier for others, give a homeless man a buck or a beer, pay things forward for a day, smile because it changes the energy in a room, learn to let things go because life isn’t so serious, help out someone/anyone in a time of need or just at all, be selfless sometimes, let go of road rage and just surrender to things we cannot change that aren’t so serious, put yourself in someone else’s shoes before going overboard over irrelevant things, extend yourself, volunteer with something, learn something new and challenging in order to grow, use your right brain and be creative, dance naked in the rain, challenge yourself… And the list goes on. What I mean is, not everyone has my soul and will be drawn to Africa as I am. We all have our own “Africa” in our soul, and even the small things change the world. So start with those. All my Love & Light.

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