The Devil's Dream

I place the necklace on the dresser next to the bed with the rest of my jewelry. Slowly, I untie my shoe strings, slide them off and under the bed. I peel off my sweaty tank top, pants, undergarments and leave them on the floor. I stand there, completely naked for what seems like ages.

I take a seat in a chair I have never seem before, its fire engine red, with a tall an extremely tall back and lettering carved in it I can not read. Carefully, my long brown locks fall from a pony tail with out me ever lifting a hand. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, naked, hair laying peaceful on my shoulders, make up perfectly in tack and the only object lit in the whole room is myself and the red chair. 

Wind blows over my skin, sending chills up and down my entire body. My hands clasp together covering my breast. Now I sit, sit and sit for what feels like hours. Each movement I make at this point seems to be stopped in time. 

My feet try to gain balance on the floor so I can lay down, it must be three o clock at this point. 

But, I can’t move. There is an enormous amount of pressure on my shoulders holding my body to the chair. Normally I at this point I would panic and fill with rage. That was not the case. I just continued to sit there.

I could see it coming towards my face. The figure was black and see through. Oddly had no eyes or nose, but a mouth opened wide and full of black. My lips were closed tight. Tears streamed from eyes, down my cheeks and on my legs. Still I did not move.

The creature floated in mid air in front of my face, I am sure it was testing me. Shyly, it placed its cold hands on my face and then drug its cold fingers on to my lips. Every part of my body was aching and sweating. Aggressively the creature snatched onto my lips and began to pry my mouth open. 

Loudly, it moaned and groaned as it tried to shove itself down into mouth. Finally I was able to move. I pushed with every bit of might in my body to remove the creature. Air filled my lungs and I could not breath. I was choking to death.

“Just let it happen, you will find peace,” a voice rang from the far side of the room.

I searched for the man who spoke these words, hoping he would help me. Instead he briskly walked by me. The strange man’s face was so familiar. He did not have eyes, just black holes gaping with puss. He stood and watched and the creature tried harder to escape down my throat.

My chair was lifted off the floor and slammed back down repeatedly. This fight was a fight I would lose, I knew this. But I kept pushing, biting down, kicking my legs and trying to call for help.

Wildly, I flew out from under the covers and set straight up in my bed. After realizing the dream I had, I quickly laid down and hid my head under the covers. All my bed covers were soaking wet with sweat. I peeked my head from under the covers, the clock read 3:15 am. To scared to fall back asleep, to frightened to move out of bed, I laid  there hid under my covers till morning. 

The Characteristics Of Annoying

Annoying people are everywhere, on the streets, at work, hidden in computers and in the classroom! By “annoying” I don’t mean someone who’s a neat nick, has no sense of color, laughs too loud when nothing is funny, or eats too many inions. Annoying people are those who don’t respect your space, time, skill, or position. They insist that you notice them or stand in your way so you can’t help but adjust to their presence. But just like your friends, there are different types of annoying people.

Type One: Unstable Annoying

Social ineptness, can not form relationships, and apparent ruddiness are what linger in this group of annoying past and present. Something is mis-wired in their brain. They assume that they are communicating effectively and acceptably. You can’t take them anywhere simply because everywhere you go they always see someone they hate... then they are ready to run off at the mouth and fight. 

Type Two: Sheepdog Annoying 

Intrusiveness and inability to be alone are two qualities to empathize when considering the result of a zoo-style upbringing. They do not comprehend privacy. They are like a sheepdog, need to know where everybody is all the time. Or they remind you a black fly. You just want to swat it and watch it writhe forever in the floor. Even when everyone knows you’re in a horrible mood this person still bugs you and has no respect for you. 

Type Three: Whining Annoying 

I absolutely cannot stand whiners, though I myself at time whine, its never to the extent that these people take it. These people always have a sadder story or more dramatic incident than everyone else. Sadly, there is now a type of whiny music called ‘emo’ that is growing as we speak. Now there is more of a reason to whine than ever, because whiners are whining to song. (Thank you Dashboard Confessional.) Whiners always seem to find a way to make your day bad with their sad stories and empty careless thoughts. 

Type Four: Pervert Annoying

Pervert’s are longing for attention and always have been. They are the ones who expect you to listen to dirty jokes continually and enjoy seeing your negative reaction. They act like they want to help all the time and make sure things happen that then make them indispensable. Others know what they are all about as well. But uniquely enough they are never alone or neglected, so nothing can be done about their offensiveness. They keep it subtle enough that it just barley escapes definition. So you can’t really call them out on their behavior without sounding like a jerk. 

Type Five: Prejudiced Annoying

There are the people who tend to make rude and unnecessary remarks about color, heritage, or culture. For example: I was in flea land the other and I heard a lady say to her husband “This man is trying to Jew everyone.” Lets all be honest how many of you have honestly been cheated by a Jew... I can guess NO ONE. Everyone has that one person they know that always blames peoples faults on their background or skin color. This type of annoying is ignorant and to be blamed on oneself not their up bringing. Everyone has brains, but some use their brains for one-minded radical track. To be quite honest, these people make me sick. 

Type Six: Religious Annoying 

Have you ever been assaulted with comments or statements about your religion? If you answered yes, then likely you have been attacked by Fundamentalist Christians. Often called “Religious Right” these people come from the extreme wing of the Christian faith. They do not represent all the Christian faith regardless of what they think.  Christianity when at its core is supposed to be mean peace-loving faith. These people have an awful addiction to being right; it has nothing to do with religion. Unfortunately, they do not respond to logic or sound arguments. Anyone who threatens his or her thoughts is called “lost” or “blinded by the devil.” They are an addict, and not to be taken seriously but pitied. 

Type Seven: Harmful Annoying 

Worse than any of these “annoying” people are the people who actually set out to harm you. The people who have betrayed you, lied about you, and to undermine and belittle you. It’s important to keep this person close... keep your friends close and your enemies closer. This person will slip up eventually and end up getting the worse of everything they bring on everyone else. Although they can be hurtful you must not retaliate in a immature way. You must regarded their ignorance more with sympathy than scorn. They don’t know when to stop so do not be offended by their rude ways. But you MUST have a backbone when dealing these people, they will step on you over and over if you allow it to happen. 

Don’t retaliate. Retaliation only makes you just as lame as the person who attacks you first. As time goes on you will learn to deal with the person, who knows you may even become friends. There is a fine line between each type of annoying and I have yet to find a person who has all six characterisics of annoying. People must realize no one is perfect and we are ALL flawed. They probably find something annoying about you just as you do them. 

“Anybody can become angry- that is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time,for the right purpose, and in the right way- that is not within everybody’s power and is not easy.” - Aristotle

If you stay calm with annoyance you will be less likely to do something you will regret later. Letting yourself become angry means you will just stay angry. Seriously, who wants to be mad all the time? When you get mad at someone it makes it easier to make you mad the next time they attempt to annoy you. You look just as bad as the person who pissed you off. So I have learned to stay calm, think clearly, and pity the ignorant.

Less Stress, More Happiness 

Attention Deficit Disorder and Other Important Thoughts.....

As a writer and reader I find myself completely challenged in both aspects. I can never read as much as I want. Or write every thought I find interesting in my head down on paper. Basically I feel I am trapped in my own head at moments. ADD. Thoughts and questions fly by quickly, some of them never given a chance to be a second thought. So writing down things gives my mind a chance to settle down and give life to a situation while reading what I wrote, because my mind never wants to chill out and take in ideas or thoughts. 

In my mind reading and writing go hand in hand. It’s like love and marriage you can’t have one with the other... exactly Paul and Peggy Bundy. Some one had to sit down, take the time to write down what they feel the scene conveys in their mind, and then as an audience we take the time to read it. Good writers leave you with a connection to what they write and can convince you of a situation.

Reading for me is actually harder then writing. Thanks to ADD,attention deficit disorder, my mind wonders terribly while reading. The words jumble together, I can’t focus, and I constantly move and twitch. One minute I am reading about who the killer is going to catch next, then thinking about magical unicorns in a candy coated forest ADD... its awesome. Let me just say when a book does catch my attention, I can’t put it down. It’s true this has happened a time or two in my life. With that being said the only books that really capture my attention and make me want to read and keep going are about drugs, violence, sex, teenage waste, and angst. 

Writing is also hard for me, but ALOT easier then reading. Mostly depends on what I am trying to write. I usually have my best train of thought of ideas when I am jogging. For some reason I think better when running. Strange I know. If I am writing something fiction, or opinionated I find my mind enjoys this more so it focuses. But no offense Mr. Whitman but papers like this one are like curing a bleeding wound with salt, PAINFUL. To be perfectly honestly... I don’t like writing about myself because I never know what to say. With some time, dedication, a lot of effort, and making myself focus, I can finish and somewhat confine my thoughts in a few pieces of paper.

Since I am a photographer and painter the second I take the picture or paint an image, it can say a thousand words without me ever having to speak one. Or I can look at it and the image not speak anything to the viewer or me. With that being said writing is WAY more complex. There is a literal count of words, trust me I see in the bottom left hand corner of pages counting away as I type, yes it is annoying. A writing piece can also be just like a picture and speak a million words in just one sentence. So, when I write I write for a purpose, a reason, a cause to reach out. 

I have the short term memory of a gold fish. So when I read or write I constantly forget what I just read or wrote. ADD. Not to mention I can not at all do two things at once. I can’t drink water and drive without swerving. So trying to listen to my brain and write sometimes causes problems. I am sure at this point your saying to yourself, “Sara, why don’t you just get medicine for it?” Well, I have refused medication ever since I was ten years old. In my heart I believe I am the way I am for a reason, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Through accepting myself and not taking medication and learning to deal with it, I am stronger and more aware of my true self. 

With all the being said I am just a normal human being. There is more then what you see on the exterior. Yes, I am awkward, strange, passionate, obnoxious , and head strong but at the end of the day I am Sara Yokley. The Irish Jew. There is honestly not any other way I would have it.  I hope that through this class I learn to be more expressive, focused, and knowledgeable about the way of writing and reading.

Help Your Children

Divorce. These days, it is hard to come by an individual who does not know someone who has been divorced, or who has not been divorced themselves. In Hollywood, divorce is seemingly becoming a common occurrence, while paving the way for a society where we're not only getting married later in life, but also searching for an almost unrealistic level of happiness in our marriage. 

Many couples considering divorce refuse to believe that divorce can have a negative effect on their children. But how can anyone believe this when we force the education of love, marriage, abstinence until married and that God believe divorce is wrong? I remember watching children around me at a young age crumble a part at school and home when parents went through divorces. Children suffer from serious separation anxiety when some one important leaves there life... specially if they had been seen together everyday. 

A long term study released in 2002 by the Institute for American Values found that unhappily married adults who divorced were no more likely to report emotional or psychological improvements than those who stayed married. So it seems to me people are just deciding on divorce instead of looking at the real problems which lie in each person self. Divorce does in fact NOT improve your emotional heath. I think it would be safe to assume that this is due to the stress and financial burden divorce inflicts upon couples.

The Institute for American Values study found that almost eight out of ten couples who avoided divorce were happily married five years later. Surprising, isn't it? People are being cowards when it comes to staying and committing to one person. The second they have an opportunity to run, they do. Sometimes it’s best to work the relationship out... after all you did say forever. 

Half of all American children will witness the breakup of a parents marriage. Of these, close to half will see the breakup of a parents second marriage. The reason they witness a second breakup is because so many couples divorce and then remarry without knowing the true cause of their marriage problems in the first marriage. This is exactly why the second marriage divorce rate is higher then that of the first marriage! 

Children often try to stop the divorce of their parents, but there are many who seem to accept it at first. These who seem to accept it may even tell their parents that they are happy about the divorce. This is not necessarily the case, as one would see if he or she spoke with the child for a while. There are many things that divorce does to a family, and there are many things that is does to the child. These effects are rarely positive, or helpful depending upon the family’s prior situation. Divorce has many negative effects on the psychological, and social aspects of a child’s life. 

You would assume death in a family would cause the most phycological problems for a child, right? Wrong. Children in divorced homes actually experience more trauma then those who are in homes for a deceased parent. This is true because when a spilt up between parents happens the children often blame themselves and lash out at everyone. 

Forty percent of children are being raised without fathers. On that note a child in a female-headed home is ten times more likely to be beaten or murdered. Kids six years after marriage breakup revealed that they tended to be lonely, unhappy, anxious and insecure even after all that time.  Children of divorce are at a greater risk to experience injury, asthma, headaches and speech defects than children whose parents have remained married.

Divorce causes a serious strain on everyone in the household. This would explain why people who come from broken homes are almost twice as likely to attempt suicide than those who do not come from broken homes. Oh yeah, seventy percent of long-term prison inmates grew up in broken homes. 

It’s very obvious that children need stable, loving homes with both their mom and dad. There is, of course an exception to every rule, and in this case it is households where abuse is taking place. Children should under no circumstances remain in an abusive atmosphere that is unsafe for them.

But if there is no abuse taking place in your marriage and the two of you have simply "grown apart",or fell out of love, I urge you to seek out help for your marriage before you give up completely. The social and mental effects divorce has on children is countless. For your children's sake, even if you're feeling hopeless right now, get help for your marriage.

Cant' Aruge With a Loaded Gun

I am challenged. My mind is a ticking time bomb. The human brain should not work like mine, or I am pretty sure it shouldn’t. To be quite honest, I enjoy pain and watching others in pain whom I feel have brought it on themselves. I am always accountable for my actions, and I feel no guilt. I fight. ALOT. Like a time bomb I will explode in due time, I always do. 

I literally can not count how many fights I have been in. It started out with me wrestling on the floor with my dad while watching WWE, yes I watched WWE. My dad would have to hurt me to make me stop trying to fight him... I never gave up or backed down. My dad claimed I had spirit, my mom said I had anger issues. They never agree on anything.

 

The first memory I have of me actually fighting someone happened in first grade. A boy in my class was playing tag with me, so I tagged him. He got mad and hit me in the stomach, I retaliated like a whack job. I proceed to get climb on top of him and punch him over and over in the face again. Needless to say I broke his nose, he lost three teeth before anyone else in our grade and two lovely black eyes. 

To be honest, I am not violent. I have serious issues with people I love being hurt, threatened, or taken advantage of. Almost every single fight I have EVER been in has been because someone I care for has been hurt. I always tell my friends when you have friends like me you don’t have to fight your own fights. 

With that being said I have always been looked at as a wild child, trouble maker, or loser. I am not. In my brain I see my behavior as human nature. It’s not like I set out to hurt people, but I will protect what is mine. I lack any kind of common sense cause I always want to solve all my problems with my fist and violence. I am to the point in life where I can’t even see the difference between kindness and hatred. 

In my mind and opinion if something doesn’t accept you do everything in your power to destroy it. No one has ever saw past the outside, weather it be the tattoos, company I keep, my clothes, hair or make up. A loved outcast is the best way to explain my existence through school. Everyone loved me, but no one accepted me. But I have learned not to show emotion, with no emotion comes fear and respect. For the longest time in my life, I was the pure example of a wasted youth. 

In my completely challenged mind hatred makes my world go round, because happiness is something that I never found.I don't feel your love or admiration. I don't feel no remorse or pity for the less fortunate. I don't feel what you believe to be right or wrong important.I don't feel shit for me and even less for you. I don't feel. I don’t care what you believe or what your about. It means nothing to me. 

A postcard from the edge would be a good way to explore my mind and write down what it says. Rage and adrenaline is what you will find. 

Challenged is a nice way to put the cancerous tumor in my head called a brain. You can’t argue with a loaded gun. I refuse to let this world get me down. I refuse to be stepped on. I refuse taken advantage of. 

Don’t ask me why I am the way I am, because I don’t have an answer. So I am not perfect, I got a problem, I am not a teenage queen, probably the girl you see yourself dating, or spending good quality time with. It would be easy to blame those childhood scars for the reasons I am who I am today, but I was never one to take the easy way out. 

In my head I believe we are all just going through the stages of dying. To live, love, learn and die. 

Perfect Placement

She is going away for a while, she has got to get clean. She is only seventeen. She sees herself as a lost cause. A nothing to live for kinda a person. But there is one place she can always find herself. The place where you don’t have to walk through gates to see the other side.  There are no fences, no boundaries, no walls, no traps and its ok to trespass. The gates sit open like arms wanting to reach out and hold her tight. Sitting alone on the other side, she knows the grass is greener. No longer does she think, she is going away for a while, she has got to get clean. To all her friends she has lost, they will meet again in this life or another. 

He is going away for a while, he has got to get clean. He is almost forty three. Longing for a place of solitude just to escape the daily struggles of life. He could never forget the description of such a place bursting from the young girls lips at the NA meeting. How could he ever find a place like that to call his own? Where the clouds are blue, the grass is green, no barricades to hold him still, everyday is warm with a summer breeze, no traffic, no rules. He no longer wants to think, he is going away for a while, he has got to get clean.

Holding the gun to her head, she wants to go away for a while. No twenty one gun solute, no red badge of courage will placed on her jacket, no one will understand why. After all suicide is so cheap when your only seventeen. She is so tried of living life like she is already dead. 

He drives to clear his mind. He approaches a field, with two gates and no fence. Quickly, he slams on his brakes. Anxiously he creeps up the gravel road in his old beat up Buick. Never has he seen a place look so beautiful.  

She sees the Buick. Anxiety sets in. Carefully she drops the gun to her waist and walks towards the car. To her surprise she knew the man, he was addict just like herself. She had been planning something big, now was not a good time. He would not understand, after all he is almost forty three.

He saw the gun, the girl, the place where she describable indescribable setting. Of course he knew what this was about. So he took a seat on the grass. He was not a man of many words, as a matter of fact he can’t remember the last time he carried on a conversation outside of NA meetings. To his surprise she took a seat beside him... and gently rested her head on his shoulder.

“Why are you here,” she mumbled as she sat the gun on the edge of her sundress. 

“I remembered the stories you told in NA, so I thought I would search for a place like this to call my own,” he replied as shifted uncomfortably. 

“I came here today to meet my friends who have all gone away,” she croaked as a tear fell down her cheek.

It was obvious to him she was high due to the gloss over her eyes and dilated pupils. There was no helping her after all she was only seventeen. 

“I think you need to go away for a while to get clean,” he informed her.

“Why? Your almost forty three and still as messed up as me. Seems so pointless mister,” she giggled as she looked into his dull grey eyes.

She didn’t even notice he only had one arm until he stood up and his sleeve dangled lifeless by his side. Puzzled and high she quizzed him, “ Why do you only have one arm?”

Annoyed and vulnerable he began to walk away. But for some reason he felt her eyes piercing through the back of his skull, so answered, “Car accident. Thats how I got addicted to hydro’s.”

“Do you think suicide is bad,” she whispered just loud enough for him to catch wind of her conversation. 

“Yes. It’s the easy way out,” he responded.

Surprisingly he lifted up his pants to show her his prosthetic leg. She stared in disbelief. There were so many questions she had to ask. But before she could even get a word out he began to tell her the story of his failed attempt of suicide. He had tried to commit suicide two years after his car wreck. He cut his throat, since a one-armed man can't cut his wrists. He wedged himself between a chest and the wall and attempted to die in that position. In his suicide note he said that he wanted to die standing up, like a man. His mother found him seconds after, and was able to keep him alive till the ambulance arrived. He told her how thankful he was to have a second chance, which is why he is going away for a while to get clean, life is short he is almost forty three. 

Now she is gone away for a while, she has got to get clean. No one can believe she is only seventeen. 

Skin Heads

Look around the room. Do you see someone who is different than yourself? Unless you are in a room alone I would like to think you answer is yes. It’s ok to be different, or at least that is what we are told. Do you hate them for being different from yourself? I would presume not. But there are people who believe anyone who different in anyway is wrong. These people tend to hold the name Skinhead, Neo Nazi,  National Socialist, Bonehead, Red anarchist, Skin Byrd, or SHARP. The taste of violence has been the appetite for skins all over the world for more than 70 years! Where did the subculture that was once about style go so wrong? 

Skinheads have their origin in the various youth subcultures in London beginning during the post-WWII era around 1953. The phenomenon started with fashion. Young factory workers began shaving their heads to keep it from being caught in the machines. Then racial, social, and economic conditions in Britain got worse, the white factory workers were by far hit the hardest. The open door immigration policy on behalf of Britain is why they were hit so hard. Third world NON-white groups of people began to flood Britain and took the jobs of many white factory workers. In retaliation the white youth began to beat up ALL non-whites.

Pakistanis were the largest group flooding England at this point. When the young factory workers realized that the “muds” aka Pakistanis where taking their jobs they began to ride around looking for Pakis to bash. Black workers began to join in on this hate as well after many of them began to loose their jobs to the immigrants as well. 

Not every skinhead is consider to be racist or for that matter full of hate. Depending on the type of colors of clothes can help people differentiate a good or bad skinhead. According to the book “Sex, thugs, and rock and roll” racist skin heads aka boneheads have shaved heads, wear suspenders with jeans or military trouser, sometimes with a white collared shirt. White and black are the colors of shoestrings and suspender that boneheads wear. Usually they served military time and hate Jews and Israelis. 

A SHARP or straightedge skinhead is non-violent and usually drug free. They bear the colors red or blue in their shoestrings and suspenders. Usually they have shaved heads or buzz cuts, bleach stained blue jeans, and blue polo’s with flight jackets.

By the year of 1977 the subculture had naturally moved to America. The first reported skinheads were found in Chicago, Illinois. C.A.S.H was the acronym they went by which meant Chicago Aryan Skin Head. They first appeared thanks to the band the Sex Pistols who traveled from England to go on tour through America. 

Of course there is one question that comes to mind when most think of skinheads. Why do they hate the Jews so much, or just hate so much in general? The answer to that question comes easy and guilt free from the month of a bonehead himself, “ Love and hate go hand in hand. If you love your family, then it’s natural instinct to protect them. Anyone who threatens it, should be demolished. So when the parasitical race of Jew is a direct threat to the White Race, whom we love dearly, therefore we hate them for their actions directed against us.”  Cognitive dissonance is typically how people skinheads believe. 

A question that is often raised by skinheads is what is so wrong with being white and proud? It’s ok to be black and proud, or Jew and proud, but if you’re white and proud your a Nazi fascist. This can be denounced by adding that there is nothing wrong with being proud of your race as long as your not harming or putting down someone else ethnicity. 

Punks and skinheads. Related or not? The real definition of punk if you look in the dictionary is one in prison who enjoys homosexual acts. With that being said, there is no relation between punks and skinheads. Which is one often misconception. To most skinheads punks are hippies with Elmer's glue in their hair. They often fill the place of a Jew in a skinheads mind for violence. 

Of course when group of people join together for a common cause one group usually tends to gain more members and publicity then the others. In the skinheads cause it happens to be the Hammer Skin Nation made for and by skinheads only. Almost exclusively young white males inclined to violence and white supremacy. Murder, beatings, vandalism make group by far the most respected and feared skin head group. International unity is an important Hammer Skin goal. 

The name and symbol of the Hammer Skin Nation came from The Wall, a 1979 album by Pink Flyod. The wall tells the story of Pink, a rock singer who becomes a drug addict, loses his grip on reality and turns to fascism. Pink reforms a song in which he expresses a desire to line all of the “queers”, “jews”, and “coons” in his audience “up against the wall” and shoot them. In obvious references to the Holocaust, he sings of the “final solution” and “waiting to turn on the showers and fire the ovens.” The swastika is replaced by Pinks symbol: two crossed hammers, which he boast will “batter down” the doors behind which frightened minorities hide form the fascist supporters. 

Being racist is not a way of life. It’s a choice. A choice that is often made to easily and decided just so someone can fit in with a group of people. Style and culture can lead to bad things if taken too seriously; don’t base your mind on what someone else is doing better yet make your mind up for yourself.