I’ve lost part of my existence; a lot of it. On several occasions the work day has ended and I think of visiting my brother. I’ve picked up my phone and punched in his speed dial number. He died in September. I guess I haven’t accepted that fact. I turn around and feel I can step into the memories we created and shared. He always had my back. I could always count on that. He was there the moment time started for me. I feel he’s still here. I visit his grave. The marker claims his body lies somewhere beneath. Down there. Six feet. Dirt. An oak tree stands to the left like a sentinel at his post keeping the prisoner in his place. A cold dark cell it must be. He’s not there. He is in my memory. No one can pry him from the wrinkles in my brain. In my mind he can fly.

I would like to visit the ancient ruins in Peru. All of them.

This is the first time I post on tumblr.

I can’t stop thinking about the generally accepted saying that “ignorance is bliss.” I used to agree. Now I can’t believe I was so crippled by ignorance that I was truly a mere “follower.” I was satisfied to happily limp along the corridors of life never realizing that the lead lemming was, in fact, a wolf in lemming’s clothing, leading me  toward the edge of a cliff overlooking an intellectually empty abyss.

Having existed 50 years in an ignorant stupor, it’s a wonder the light bulb in my head still works. I’m glad it does. I’ll admit I didn’t flip the switch myself, someone else saw a tiny flicker through one of my ears and realized it wasn’t shining through from the other side but, rather it was emanating from somewhere in the center of my otherwise hollow melon. (Okay, it was my sister-in-law, but don’t tell her, she still thinks I’m a dunce and I’d like to keep it that way. She’s our office manager and if she were to think I was more competent she might assign me more work and that would jam up my already cramped schedule. In this case her ignorance is my bliss.)

Back to ignorance. I don’t believe ignorance is bliss , but I do believe that knowledge can sometimes be a torturing curse. Imagine learning that you were sent to fight a war based on greed rather than the noble cause of saving humanity from an evil prince and that innocent people died at the end of your sword because you ignorantly accepted the propaganda plastered against your face. This is not what happened to me, but I can honestly say that if I didn’t know what know now I would gladly do my duty on the front line of any battlefield. I realize the stupidity of the words I once repeated, “Nuke’um all and let God sort’um out.”

Understand one thing. I’m not afraid to fight, but now I’ll only do it in the name of a truly just cause.

I’ve decided to slash away at hands that covered my eyes and kept me from seeing the truth. My weapons? Books, newspapers, magazines, broadcasts, certain professors and most of all educated reasoning.