What does one do when faced with a corner?
There is only one thing that any living thing would do when faced and forced into a corner of any kind...come out fighting.
I ponder many things most of the hours one would be awake.
There are times when the bridge before you is burning in flames. The heat and tips f the flames lapping at your ankles, set alight out of blind stupidity and stubbornness.
But once the ashes fall away rebuilding the bridge can take some extreme effort and other times left completely beyond repair.
Often this involves a date or a key event on the annual calender of life.
Somebody close to me recently stated that playing games with me is a complete waste of time because you cannot win. It is true enough but I am not, despite my outward appearance, always impervious. Just impervious to many.
Sometimes you can walk among the ashes while your feet burn and you have to ask yourself that one and often insolvable question. Why?
I may well be approaching a point when I ask myself 'why' of my own endeavours and efforts?
The one person that had kept me going throughout and for many years has been … evasive, secretive and incommunicado.
If I cannot trust them they join a long list of people I cannot trust. Which will lead me, inevitably to the question of if there is anyone worth saving or helping?
So why should I continue?
It is a question I do not want to ask myself. It is a question I never thought I would ask myself. On the night of Christmas Eve it will be the most primary question in my mind.
What did I do it all for?
There are times when things get you down. There is only so much you can take on board in a given period of time. Then the weight of everything can get too much.
The one thing I have always managed to work without is things or events to be uplifting. Something that shows you that your cause is worthy or that there are plenty of people worthy of your sacrifices.
I have had a few minor moments. Too few and far between I am afraid to say.
Currently I am endeavouring to acquire that elsewhere.
I am contacting literary agents. I have contacted a number of them by now and I have had a little positive feedback which is far more than I had gotten four years back.
I ask myself if the readers of my letters will see what it is I am trying to do, who and how many I am trying to help and become a part of this?
Now that would be uplifting.
I wrote two books and have a third to start up and work through but sometimes, like right now, I wonder if I have the energy to do this?
I am not a bad actor in Hollywood, nor kicking a bag of wind around or fighting others for it or smiling away in some glamour magazine or dirt digging journalist in a gossip column.
Yet these command big salaries as does looking the fool on TV.
I lived a life of pain and confusion, realised some things were rotten to the core and decided to research them. Only to find that everything was rotten to the core everywhere I looked and far worse than even I first thought.
I then thought about all of the victims out there whose lives have been destroyed and even ended by this dark side to the British nation while floods of others come here to make things even worse than they are.
I realised that almost all others will not be aware of how bad things are and in how many places and that those that do concentrate on one particular aspect and are blind to all the others.
I was well aware that as things stood things would only continue to spiral downhill.
I seemed to be the only one that was aware of the vast extent of how bad things were and had predicted many things for a very, very long time.
I simply wanted to do something about it.
I wanted to change things.
I wanted to change a country, a whole country and then maybe, just maybe, the world … one country at a time. I would never have lived long enough to see that.
Though some will never be changed and remain a diseased wart on the face of the world while idiots continue to pander to them because they are convinced they will. Until they are wiped out. I see this but cannot do anything about it. I can just give my opinions and sometimes am harsh, to give an idea of how many are feeling.
That, I confess, is deliberate. I have said and repeated many times that actions speak louder than words and I could only ever be judged by my actions. Not my words.
So I played on that. To sound extreme. To get noticed and stir feelings and emotions as I thought that would get people talking. Talking about this blog. Talking about me.
I would say things in anger as I would post about them while I was angry about something … again quite deliberately. That was how I played it.
The ultimate and real truth was always kept back and would be revealed when I thought it was necessary to do so.
I am losing count of the years I have spent doing this. I am losing count of the number of days I have been hurt, heartbroken, suffered so many pains and made so many sacrifices.
The whole time I had hoped that those I had attempted to help would see these things for themselves? Again … seeking another corner where uplifting events can occur.
It seems I have an enemy and I do not know who it is. More upsetting is that someone else should see his too but have not and care not.
Sometimes you do not need to know them or see their faces. Because the sacrifices made a clear to see and actions and in this case, inactions, are clear to see and tell a story. A very clear story.
There are many things I could have done with my life and I have an endless list of regrets but I had boulders lobbed before me on each and every one of them. This sees to have turned out no different to any of the previous times.
Unless something changes in the coming couple of months?
I imagine I am on an island. A gentle and cool breeze disturbs the hair above my temples and the sun is setting and coats the horizon in a golden glow. The only sound that is audible is distant birds singing on high.
The leaves of nearby trees glitter as they twist and turn in the breeze, the sunlight flashing from their surfaces as they turn.
I am somewhere far, far away from all that I hate.
I lay back and my arms outstretch when I think of a nation of blind people clambering for their wants and desires that are meaningless in this vast and unexplored universe.
A tear breaks free from the corners of my eye when I think of the utter extremes many are prepared to go to fill in the gaps of a very short life. The evil that people are willing to do.
I sit upon my island and gaze into the direction of a place once called home. I wonder if they will ever see? I wonder if they will ever stop? I wonder of they will ever free themselves from the tyrannies and the darkness?
Why do they require so much and why are they willing to go to such lengths to achieve this?
To fill up a period of thirty or forty years with things others do not possess, could never possess?
Do the actors that only drink champagne costing thousands and eat meals costing the same really have to do this? Do they see how they look to anyone intelligent, outside that of the celebrity journalists themselves desperately hunting sound bites?
Or those on TV pleading for a few pounds to save lives that posses the amounts to feed third world countries for several years?
The world around me is full of holes. The deceit is surrounding. The pictures so utterly clear. The hardest thing to endure is to watch everyone else walk past these pictures as if they were not even there.
So the only thing that allows evil to persist is for good men to do nothing is it?
Well one good man decided to do a little more than just something.
One man decided to do many things and for a very long time.
He painted a series of the starkest pictures.
That was my vision.
At the present time and quite bizarrely big numbers are only the tiniest of percentages. A stark reality.
So some metaphorical fuses have had to be lit.
Time given to see where the sparks lead.
The weeks are running speedily out and that island may become a very tempting prospect?
Then what will history make of it all?
As I feared, most likely?
It takes a death before anyone becomes interested and even then after some time.
Those stark realities of what it is to be human.
But, I wonder, what does that make me?
I can only hope that you do not forget about me.
At least in my life I tried to do something right … something good.