As a teenager, I cruised the streets, in my grandparent's Chevrolet T-1000.
Teenagers, nowadays, surf the web--Twitter, Facebook, Springboard, Instagram, Youtube, you-name-it.
I read a blog from one of my favorite people, Amanda Palmer. It was about Amanda Todd, a young teenage girl who was literally bullied to death by her peers through social media. I read another blog about Jane Doe who was drinking, became incoherent and all the while being physically/virtually abused through social media. I am sure there are many other heinous happenings going on right now over the world wide web.
*I imagine evil spiders surfing on webs.
Does technology only put it in our face more abruptly now?
In this rapidly growing world of technology, we forgot to inform the IT scribe to make up some basic rules.
I started thinking and could not stop my mind from spinning and I had to write this blog (which will instantly pop up wherever I want it to).
Note to self: Do not read bad news before bedtime.
Was this type of wantonness going on as frequently when I was growing up?
Maybe, maybe not.
I did not fave a facebook, I had a mirror.
I could not instantly make pictures appear (well, I did have a Polaroid instant camera) but I had to wait still.
It seems to me that instant gratification is the norm now.
Kids don't need to learn patience. Mix that in with hundred's of images popping up with one click of the enter key. Zoom. Bam. Bingo.
Abracadabra, take me back to 1973.
I think back to my childhood. I was bullied a couple of times.
A boy in my 3rd grade class sent me a note--Do you want to go with me? Check the box--Yes or No.
I checked yes.
Then he sent me another note that read, "I want to fuck your pussy".
I cried, I had never been verbally abused on purpose.
Our teacher took me in the hallway and I cried,"_____told me he wants to fuck my pussy".
It was the first time I'd ever heard of that. At a very early age, I was taught about reproduction and learned the "correct" terms for body parts.
Another time on the playground, a girl got in my face and said mean things and pushed me.
I cried. Why did she do that?
I didn't even know her but she had a reputation to uphold and I was the unfortunate one lined up behind her that day.
I was the sort of kid that made friends with the over-weight girl or the quiet one (that hid secrets).
I gave a neighbor friend my scarf and hat because she didn't have one.
I liked to play teacher. I loved listening to music. I read a lot.
I have always felt empathy, maybe, at times, too much.
I feel deeply and whole-hearted, sometimes, to the point of depression.
As a teenager, I hung out with an older "cool" crowd, I guess you could say.
A close friend of mine, had a friend that I met and all of us hung out a few times. For some reason, this girl decided to lie and told my close friend that I said, such and such about her (he said, she said, bullshit).
Blah, blah, lie, lie. Why?
I was cruising down the Avenue and my close friend's car pulled up next to mine. They started yelling obscenities at me. I pulled through the grocery store parking lot (where everyone turned around to head back down the Avenue). I stopped to make my turn and noticed her car behind mine. The next thing I know, I am dragged out of my car and punched, hair pulled, laughed at and yelled to.
My close friend doing this to me, over a made up lie.
Why?
A week or so passed and it was devil's night.
Cruising the Avenue, eggs are being thrown at my car from my close friend's car.
I drove to a much older person's house, we will call her Leslie. I told her what happened, and now we are in my car, looking for revenge.
On the Avenue, we found my close friend, in the restaurant hang-out parking lot.
The endorphins and hormones collided. We started fighting, one on one.
Leslie comes from behind and hits my close friend on top of her head, with a hammer head. The claw went into her skull, two inches away from paralyzing her, for life.
Years later, I feel truly blessed that I was able to apologize. Again, I feel terribly sorry about that awful night.
Today, this makes me cry.
I am a lover not a fighter. I would rather feel joy over pain.
People who bully--do they enjoy pain over joy?
Do they prefer hate over love?
Maybe, it's how they're raised. Are they victims of abuse and seeking revenge?
How do people's brains malfunction and turn them into nightmares? Why?
How can someone rape or kill? Why?
How can we send weapons and tanks faster than peace and love? Why?
War is created with such ease--why is it not this easy for peace.
This I can not fathom. Never could, never will.
I only want to see us ALL laughing in the purple rain...
Monday, January 7, 2013
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