Waiting For The Wind To Pick Up

I slide into reality like one of those old great ball players who slide into third base with hopes to lead his team to a run that wins the game.
Jim Carroll said, “I just want to be pure.”
I don’t know how possible this is for me. Then again, there are those who live with their impurities and still manage to come out on top or they figure out how to get ahead without chopping off the heads of the people in front of them

I know I was told the last shall be first and the first shall be last.
And in all fairness and kindness to myself, I do not know where I fit in this race. I am not first or last but somewhere in-between.

I slide into reality like one of the great baseball players and hope to beat the throw. I slide into home and hope to hear the umpire scream, “Safe!”
But wait . . .
There are too many umpires on the field. Or maybe there are so many judges that the umpires outnumber the players of the game, which robs the sport of its dignity.
But then again, some people play the game for the nature of the sport. Some watch like fans from the stands.
And some of the players . . .
Some of the players on the field aren’t playing at all. They aren’t playing because to them, the game is not just a game. No, this is a case of do or die. To them, this is not about winning or losing. To them, this is more about life or death and in their eyes; their wins or losses are related to the threat of starvation, which is more than just an issue of not eating or being full.

I see life this way.
And I am fine to see things like this/. I am fine to be alone. I am fine to look at those who stand in their leadership position and wonder how they got there.
What makes them so different from me?
Is this a case or mind of matter?
Are they so smart or so talented and gifted?
Is their success simple and simply put, is their success due to the secrets of their endurance.

I was told that a black belt in Jiu-Jitsu is just a white belt who never quit or gave up.
I wonder what happens to those who had their white belt and tried to advance, but an injury prevented them from training anymore.
After all, this is what happened to me. At the same time, I don’t want to quit.
I don’t want to go down and become so gentle and mute that I submit myself to the world in fear that I might be hurt or worse, that I might be played for the fool.
(again)

I see the line which has been drawn between me and other people. I see this as the so-called line in the sand, which determines that I will not surrender beyond this point.
I see the brilliance and the genius of someone who endures and sticks to it!
I also see the disciplinary differences between those who hunt for the sport and those who hunt for food to survive. I see ow vital the difference is because in the end, only one of them understands the intensity of what it means to go hungry.
Only one knows what it means to be victim to the threat of starvation, and if all things were equal and all of our wealth and fancy tools were stripped or taken away; only one kind of hunter would survive and one would become like the prey they used to hunt and fear (like they hunted) and face the threat of death 

I do not bother with those who look away or deny me my right or point of view. And to be clear, I am fine to stand alone or to be different.
At this point, I believe it makes sense to celebrate my differences. At this point, I have to acknowledge the fact that whether I chose not to conform or comply out of spite or rebellion, or whether I chose my path because of my right to disagree, I do not see the world the same as other people do. I am not so different or unique and yet, I am free to be as different as I choose to be.

I do not have time for the entitled or their so-called entitlement and their lack of understanding when it comes to my boundaries.
I see how little people think when it comes to others or their space. I have no time for those who accuse me for being ‘as I am,” when meanwhile, they have an easy time excusing their wrongs and forgiving their own trespasses while persecuting those who trespass against them.

Hypocrites are all around the world
I am one of them too
But hey, I am trying.
I am working
I am living and better yet; I call out my own bullshit, regardless of how small or weak or silly this makes me seem.

“Don’t tread on me,” I say, and when I say this I find my tongue becomes heavy with contempt. I am angry.
Yes., I admit this.
I would rather say yes, I am angry then be dishonest and act as if I’m fine and all is well.
In my head, I see too many people who maneuver like opportunists and essentially, I see how people have no problem with using someone for firewood as soon as their world gets too cold.

But wait . . .
The hunter . . . 
The one who understand s how to live
The one who knows how to survie and endure.
The one who hunts to live and the hunter who hunts to provide and survive and as for the hunter who hunts with purpose over the sportiness of it all, I recognize that the true hunter can survive in any jungle. A true hunter can maneuver through any terrain because the hunter understands the rules of the game. 

Why is it that someone with no help can overcome and become self-made?
How is it that hard working men create soft times for those under their care?
Why does surviving the game loses its translation?

I understand why it was said that hard men make for soft times and soft men make for hard times.
I see how this works in cycles.

But wait . . .
What is it about that one person who decided to say “I”Fuck it!”
“No one can stop me!”
What about the one who said, “I am going to play this game of life or death and win by any means,” and what is about the hunter who hunts without using other people for bait?
How about them?
How many spears hit them in the back?

How about the successful one who came from the bottom and climbed the social and the financial ladder without poking knives in someone’s back

I know what it means to be hungry
I know what it means to starve
I know what it means to want to eat

But I know that my game is off.
I lost my blood-smell, which is when an animal realizes it can hunt for food.
I am afraid to be stripped of my fancy tools and be found at the bottom with the so-called bottom dwellers. and these are the people who my pride assumed that I was “above” or better than, only to learn that they are better than me because they know the game and how to survive.

I don’t need to beat the game anymore or come out “on top”
However, and as a means to better myself and my position in life, the kind of success I want to find is the kind that can survive in any environment and on any terrain.
I want to learn how to live and thrive regardless of the hunters around me or how they use others for bait.

I slide into reality like one of those old, great baseball players.
And yes, there are too many umpires on this field.
The umpires outnumber the players by far.
So, all I can do is play the game straight and make it home

Safe . . .