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3Nov/170

The Loop Part 4

Posted by Nate

Time travel

Train of Time

The train of time.

We were at the concert.

The quartet was playing Beethoven. Beautiful music. Listening, I sometimes lose touch with reality.

I was listening, and these beautiful sounds were flying, gliding into the past as soon as they escaped the musical instruments. The sounds were slow and elegant or fast and furious. Elegantly dancing, waltzing, holding each other and then, suddenly, rushing upward, away. Away, in the past. Bittersweet experience.

And I was wondering: what if these sounds did not just disappear but remained, alive, in the past?

And if, somehow, the train of time would go back, it will catch the music. The sounds, the music will return, one note after the other. I am listening to music and riding an imaginary train catching the notes again and again.

Is time reversible? Today's scientific opinion says that the arrow of time cannot be reversed.

But I don't want to stop thinking about it. Of course, my excuse is not being a scientist.

I am imagining riding on the train, looking through the window, watching the world go by, disappearing behind me.

Also, though I cannot see it anymore, I know that the forest and the lake and the houses are still there, just my space and time have moved forward, with me. But I remember, I can visualize the passing images.

And when the train will go back, I will see the trees, the lake, the houses again, in the same space but in different time. The arrow of time would move everything I see not in space, but in time and our forward and backward time arrows would intersect, meet again.

The train will pass the now familiar images, stop and reverse its movement again so I will relive the experience again, but in different time.

When I am watching old movies, I know that the actors have been dead for a long time, but they are very much alive in the movie. And I imagine that somewhere, in the past, in the other world of the past, they are still there, alive and well. Somewhere in another universe, just left behind the by the passing train of time.

Maybe, just maybe these people and their world, present in our consciousness, our thoughts, exist on another plane, in another time, another reality.

“I regard consciousness as fundamental. I regard matter as derivative from consciousness. We cannot get behind consciousness. Everything that we talk about, everything that we regard as existing, postulates consciousness.” – Max Planck.

I would add that there is no matter on the fundamental level. All there is is just information. The universe, our universe, on the very basic level, is just information, changing and creating the world directed by some algorithm. What or who created this algorithm? Nobody knows.

And information, to the best of our knowledge, cannot be lost. So maybe there is a way to retrieve the past, relive it in another reality. Maybe within some limited closed environment.

We sometimes are reliving our past - childhood memories, our youth, being with the departed. And I want to believe that if they live in our consciousness, they exist somewhere, in the reality of the past - my past, their present. They also travel in time, but behind me, behind today's us.

If our imagination allows us to travel against the arrow of time, in some realities we are moving in continuous loop. Reliving our memories, or lives, without realizing what is happening.

We all know the meaning of deja vu and many of us have experienced it. Of course, it may be just tricks that our mind plays with us. But it is more exciting to imagine the time loop and some accidental discrepancies, malfunctions in the fabric of space-time that brings the déjà vu.

Alternate realities and time loops.

As I thought that I was moving between realities during my hospital stay when I was in coma, another thought occurred to me after a while. What if I, we all, are really moving in time loops? Let's say I lived through my cardiac arrest and after a few years the loop kicked me back. Perhaps I had a dream reliving my experience and was back there as my old self, still asleep in the hospital, creating new reality back in time by dreaming about it.

Our consciousness, or any consciousness, is a crucial part of reality. Intelligence, any intelligence, is reducing the entropy in certain areas as a result of its activities, while increasing the entropy overall.

Prevailing opinion is that the arrow of time is not reversible because the entropy is increasing with time. But what if in some circumstances, due to intelligent activities for example, the arrow of time is reversible? Reversible in a particular area of the universe.

We all have strange dreams sometimes. And we either dismiss them, blaming too much food or booze, or we just forget these dreams.

Science is still not sure why we sleep. And why we have dreams. So, I feel free to fantasize about dreams, the meaning of dreams. What if our dreams give us a glimpse into another reality, another possibility? Another version of us, the result of us making choices?

October. I am walking on the trail, leaves started to fall, laying in the asphalt, whispering something to each other, to me maybe. Trees are becoming red and golden, getting sleepy and tired of hot summer.

I could feel icy freshness in the air, first reminders of things to come. I started to think about time, remembering earlier ideas about dreams, times, realities and other weird stuff.

I like to let my imagination roam free, wherever it may bring me. I never claimed that any of these ideas are scientifically solid. I don't care, it is fun to come up with strange stuff.

Besides, I am pretty sure that reality is weirder than we can imagine anyway.

Does it make any difference in my life, what reality and what time I am in at present? I don't even know what “present” means anymore. We don't really experience “present” because it takes time for our brain to absorb “present” so by the time we see it, the moment is gone, becomes the “past”. No, I do not really care what particular reality, space or time I live in now. It does not make any difference in my life as far as I know.

But, sometimes when I think of my days in the hospital after cardiac arrest, I feel anxiety. In the back of my mind, I am afraid to be thrown into a different realty, in space or time. Or both. So, I do not want to go through this experience again. In time loop.

We know, understand so little of the universe. After writing the previous pages, I decided to Google the meaning of dreams. And this particular author is very close to what I think about alternate realities.

But this is a thought experiment so we can ask: If the many worlds framework is correct and dreaming consists of counterfactual simulations of what might have been and what might be for the dreamer in a world that branches off of the dreamer’s parent world then is it possible that dreams actually depict what is going on in the life of my counterpart in the alternate world he lives in? If that is the case then my dreams are portals into the life of one of these branching worlds predicted by the MWI.” https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/dream-catcher/201407/dreams-and-the-many-worlds-interpretation-quantum-physics

(As I stated before, many scientists consider that at the very basic level, our universe is information.

But does that work for multiverse?) And information changes, influenced by our consciousness.

Robert Nozik suggested that if we can imagine something, whatever we imagine exists somewhere in the multiverse.

We humans complain that our lives are so short. But maybe, just maybe, our lives continue in some other reality, in other time/space.

I recently read that after the heart stops, brain activity continues for about 20 seconds. What if during this time, the brain imagines itself to be in another reality, so without knowing it, we-our counterparts live forever? It is exciting to think that somewhere, in place and time unknown to us, there is or will be another me thinking, imagining the same weird realities that I am thinking about.

Will we, the humanity, ever find the answers to our questions? Will we ever know the right questions to ask? I don't know.

Meanwhile, I live my life, enjoy the company of loved ones, friends, good movies and books and whatever else I am doing. In any time/space reality.

Time and realities.

Life is beautiful and complicated.

3Oct/172

Price of Freedom.

Posted by Nate

Guns in America

Another tragedy.

The price of freedom

Another massacre

Innocent people murdered

Lives cut short for no reason

The madman armed with a military arsenal

So sad, so infuriating.

The feeling of doom, helplessness.

So many innocent lives, hopes, loves

Brutally ended by evil.

Sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, lovers and friends - gone.

Grieving families and friends, trying to understand.

Why?

Is that the price of freedom?

The price of freedom. Is that freedom?

Is being murdered in cold blood for no reason – freedom?

One moment full of life and joy, the next moment dead - is that what some call freedom?

So who is free and who is paying the price?

Is that freedom - to be able to murder at will, to end somebody's life?

And these people? The murdered.

They are us! Our families, friends. They are our children, our friends.

Are they free?

All these people who witnessed this horror - are they free?

As for these demagogues with their pronunciations about the price of freedom.

I wish you were there, in this crowd, under a rain of bullets from automatic weapons.

I want you to experience the horror, the pain, the panic.

I want you to see all this close up, to see the blood, to see death, to smell it.

I wish all proponents of “freedom” would be among the mass of screaming, running, falling, dying and dead.

I want all of you hypocrites screaming about freedom, freedom of buying arms, any arms to be there in this desperate crowd.

I want the blood of those murdered around you to be on your face and your hands.

But even if you were not there you have their blood on your hands.

I rarely hated anyone in my life but I hate you.

Heartless greedy monsters that are getting rewards for pushing, for allowing this “freedom”

Freedom to kill.

Why is the ability to take others lives considered “freedom”?

Isn't the ability to go to school, to a concert, to church, a synagogue or a mosque, to walk the streets and parks without fear – isn't that freedom?

To be free from fear for your life - isn't that what we call freedom?

Freedom to live. To live without fear for your loved ones being murdered for no reason.

No reason other than madness and the abundance of guns.

Guns

Source of profits for some, source of power for others.

Profits for gun merchants, power for Republican members of Congress.

Congress of the United States of America.

These power hungry, greedy, soulless monsters.

Are they representing us, The People? Are they?

Another massacre.

And another

Nothing changed

I feel desperation.

Anger, desperation and helplessness.

Death merchants always win. Always.

And more innocents die.

And more will die.

I cannot allow that

We cannot give up. It is not an option.

For our loved ones, for those that perished, were murdered.

For our sanity, for our freedom.

We will fight.

Gun lobby

Blood money

6Sep/171

Anger and Shame.

Posted by Nate

Tweetler.

An impostor.

Trump Land, it was called America once.

Seems like a long time ago.

Land of the free. Beacon of the world.

People have dreamed about this land, the land where they would not be afraid to speak, to walk, to live; the land where one can start a new life, fulfill a dream; the land that accepted, welcomed the oppressed, the hungry; the land for the dreamers; the land that has been loved and respected around the world.

America - hope for humanity; America - the leader of the free world.

This land, this America, that accepted, welcomed those looking for a new beginning.

This America is no more.

I feel anger, anger and shame. How come the land of the free elected this man - a pathological liar, a con man, an impostor, a man totally devoid of human virtues, of all that makes us human.

Sometimes I try to imagine how it feels being Trump, how our so-called President sees the world. No compassion, no understanding, no knowledge of the world, no desire to help your fellow human.

How does it feel to not have any friends, real friends? How does it feel to live in a world it which the only reality is TV ratings and money? How does it feel when your world conforms to your lies, to your reality? How does it feel to live without a rudimentary understanding, a knowledge of how this world functions?

Trump has no morals. He is not a Nazi, or a member of the KKK. He is not a fascist or a communist. But he can be any of these. He approves of anybody who supports him.

That is why Trump will not condemn those who support him. He will love Nazis, communists, alt-right, alt-left. All that matters to this mentally impoverished person is who supports him, him - the Trump - the greatest, the smartest - Trump - the beautiful. Whatever, whoever, as long as they improve his “rating”.

DACA

Now what?

This caricature of a human being is now in the Oval Office, pretending to be the President. Just pretending. He will never become one, because everything is about him, for him, for his benefit. And, if not, he will stab you in the back, no matter who you are.

And this person, a phony, an empty shell of a human, has the power to decide the fate of millions.

I am trying to express what I felt when I read that Trump wants to end DACA, the Dreamers Act.

The Dreamers. What could be better, more noble then these young people, who were brought here. Yes, their parents came illegally. But for their children, America is the only country they've ever known and love.

And a cruel, heartless force decides to throw these young people out of their country, to send them to a place they never knew, to exile them, through no fault of their own.

Forget for now the economic impact on this country (which will be significant), but the ability, human ability of fairness, compassion - where is it? My heart breaks when I imagine these kids being devastated, their lives, their dreams shattered by an evil, merciless man, the man who by an unlikely set of circumstance is occupying the Oval Office.

Now imagine what the world thinks about our beacon of the free world, that destroys the lives of millions of innocent kids.

I feel anger and shame. My dreams are gone.

Trump supporters

Trump army.

27May/172

The Loop Part 3

Posted by Nate

Alternate realities.

Dreams and realities.

And then an idea came to him: to try to write about his experiences, his dreams and fantasies about these dreams – dreams about different worlds, other realities. Different worlds but closely related at the same time. First, he called these worlds parallel universes, but later he decided on alternate realities that interact with each other.

Parallel universes would be susceptible to “butterfly effects” and could not closely resemble each other as his alternate realities would.

So, he started writing without much concern about the scientific value of his theories. Thinking and writing about all that weirdness helped ease the anxiety of these persistent thoughts and feelings of the unreality of the world around him, the strangeness in his life.

So, he continued to theorize about all this. He actually enjoyed trying to construct the world, the reasons that might be at play here.

He thought that this terrible accident (was it an accident?) that happened to him pushed him, showed him what might be happening...made it easier to think about life's secrets. He tried to sort out in his writing his experiences in the hospital and after, whether real or imagined...about realities and entanglement.

Different realities are somehow connected, entangled. When realities are branching out, when one makes a decision in one reality, it remains entangled so that changes in one reality affect other realities.

So why do realities interfere with each other, and not remain separate?

The universe is nothing more than information, he thought. We know that computers can run several programs simultaneously. Asian philosophers claim that the universe, everything in the universe, is just vibrations. Different frequencies result in different “planes” or forms of existence.

So maybe all these realities are just planes of slightly different frequencies?

Or maybe time itself is digital and different realities are occupying different time slots and that is why some kind of abrupt shift pushed him into another reality.

All his adult life he was trying to understand, to imagine what it is, our universe? What is “reality” and what is “illusion”? And if there is an ultimate reality - what is it?

And if all this is an illusion – what is an illusion? And does it make any difference?

He remembered the movie, Matrix, and he thought that maybe there is no city of Zion.

And then a disturbing thought. Am I the same person, is it really me, the same guy that lived before the cardiac arrest? So, if I am in another reality now, who am I?

How do I know? Or anybody else? My wife – how would she know if this person, her husband, is really him, the person she loves, the person she married and had children with?

So, this thought distracted him, led him, his thoughts to branch in different directions.

But even without the cardiac arrest, am I the same person I was 40 years ago?

Just because my name is the same? My body is totally different, every cell in my body is not the cell from a few years ago, my memories are changing and I forgot a lot from my younger years.

Are we becoming a different person constantly during our lives?

And if the answer is yes, then what difference does it makes what reality I am from?

* * * * * * *

He was enjoying the afternoon sun while sitting on the deck. Surrounded by trees, flowers of all shapes, colors and fragrances, the singing of the birds and bees buzzing. Without thinking about anything in particular, not concerned with the past or future. He felt as a part of the world, a part of these sights, smells, music of life.

His wife was doing something with flowers in the garden. She loved her garden and was proud of it. And he smiled inside – she is here, with him.

He half closed his eyes and absorbed it all, he was expanding, becoming one with this symphony of life, of reality. The play of bright patches of light and shade between the leaves, the smells and sounds – it became him.

Life was a wonderful thing. He was in the moment...enjoying it.

And that was the reality he accepted.

27May/170

The Loop Part 2

Posted by Nate

Alternate realities.

What is a dream and what is reality?

He was laying in this hospital bed pondering, thinking about what was going on. He vaguely remembered his life, was it a dream maybe? The botanic garden, the colors, sunshine, flowers. Was it just a dream? What is our life, our reality? Reality? What is that - our reality? Who knows. To him now, it all seemed not that real, maybe a product of his wishful imagination.

He was laying in this room and that was his reality now - this little world, the 4 walls, his bed surrounded by some blinking clicking stuff, his wife...

Maybe this is just a bad dream and he will wake up at home, in his bed, or on the couch just dreaming. Bright day outside, wife working in the garden, birds singing, Luke his dog sleeping and probably dreaming of being young and chasing rabbits.

He liked this thought. He was scared of this dark room, of being sick, of not knowing whether he was awake or dreaming.

What is wrong about dreaming, being deep inside your mind, not seeing all this scary stuff?

He glanced at the TV - some show that he did not know, nor cared to know. Why is it in black and white? Is something wrong with his eyes? Or is the stupid TV broken?

He looked around with more attention. The things around him - they looked different, not the way he remembered from last time. Was it in his dream or was it real last time in this room? This room? He wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't sure of his memory.

Fear crept in. What is wrong with his head? He decided to try to sleep. It will be better in the morning, all will clear up.

On and off he drifted to sleep - lucid dreams, hearing noises, nurses coming and doing something with him and the equipment. Eventually, finally, it was getting lighter outside. He could see buildings, cars moving in silence. Something strange about these buildings, the cars. What was it? He tried to analyze what was bothering him about this picture?

He now could see the room. Again, something was not quite right. What was it? Colors or the lack of colors?

The picture on TV was still black and white - maybe the TV was broken. But other stuff - people, voices, even the air felt strange. Holy shit, I must be losing my mind...he panicked.

His wife woke up, moved around, turned to him.

It was her all right. Same women he loved. And yet... He could not quite put his finger on the strangeness, some nuances.

Suddenly he felt lost. He remembered being lost in his dreams, many times. The strange and desperate feeling when you recognize the place – kind of – but at the same time you are lost, have no idea where you are. In his dreams, he was waiting for his wife to find him. But now here she was and yet he felt lost.

Maybe because of this anxiety or maybe because of the medications, but his mind was working feverishly building explanations. Of course, the first and easiest one was that he was losing it, his mind, his touch with the real world.

Real world - what is it?

There are many theories about our reality, our universe. Multiverse, an infinite number of realities. The theory that everything that happened, or could happen, is already there and one's every choice moves you to a certain reality. Realities are constantly crossing – meeting and separating again. That is why the butterfly effect is negligible between realities.

But, he thought, maybe some extreme circumstances cause not a smooth transition, but a jump between realities, creating a ripple, a detectable jump.

Maybe his cardiac arrest caused the jump and he is able to detect it.

One thing he knew - no matter what he said trying to describe his feelings, his observations, no one will take it seriously. Most likely he will get more medications.

* * * * * * * *

Do some of these people see anything different, strange about him? If yes, do they just dismiss it as not real? Are they wondering or blaming their imagination for this “nonsense”?

He was getting better. Strong enough to walk with a nurse. He talked to nurses during these walks and noticed some strange unfamiliar words and expressions. He kept this to himself. They noticed it too in me, he was sure of this, but he knew nurses would attribute it to him being an immigrant or not well yet.

In a way, it has been exciting to imagine or maybe to know that he actually travels between realities. An adventure. I don't care if this is happening just in my head. For him it was real, it was his secret, even from his wife.

* * * * * * *

The nurse looked at this strange patient, still in a coma. He was delivered to the E.R. after cardiac arrest and doctors managed to revive him and he has been improving.

His breath was deep and even. All vital signs were decent. And yet, he was still in a coma.

If there are an infinite number of possible realities, he thought, then I died in some of them. That was an unsettling idea. How would this jumping between realities work? You are sick and this is a stupid idea, he decided, you shouldn't think about it anymore.

But he couldn't stop thinking about it. Are these realities subjective and exist for each person? If I die in one reality does that mean this reality ceases to exist?

* * * * * * *

The nurse could not understand what was happening to this patient and why.

His breathing was getting shallow, vital signs were slowing down. He was dying peacefully, in deep sleep.

The nurse called the doctor. They looked at each other. The doctor was at a loss. There was no reason for this. And yet, they were losing this patient.

Finally he was strong enough and was released from the hospital. He was sick of this place but he could not complain about service which had been excellent.

He hoped that once he was home and back to normal, all these strange things would go away. All this nuanced strangeness would disappear, these dreams mixed with reality, all unfamiliar and yet very familiar – would not be so scary and strange anymore.

Little by little life returned to normal at home. He slept better, strange dreams that were so real almost disappeared. He enjoyed the company of his wife, kids and grandkids.

And yet, sometimes these strange thoughts, weird feelings would come back, and he felt strangely lost. He would push this strangeness away.

13Apr/170

The Loop

Posted by Nate

The loop

He tried to look around. Small, dimly lit room. Clicking noises, something humming. Flickering. His bed – metal, like a hospital bed. Hospital? What the hell? Window to his right. It was dark outside. He saw his wife looking at him. Where am I, what is going on? Why? Why are we here, not at home? She just looked at him. “You got sick.” Let's go home he said and started to get up, turned to put his feet on the floor. And he noted some tubes inserted in his body. "What happened to me?" he finally asked. "You got sick and will have to stay here in the hospital for a while."

But he had a hard time concentrating, keeping his thoughts together. He felt dizzy and thoughts were coming and going in no particular order. He couldn't remember his questions and her answers.

So he kept trying to get up and she softly would explain again where he was.

The door was open on the left and the light was coming into the room. He saw a TV on the opposite wall in front of him - it was on but no sound. Some show he did not recognize but it made no difference. It was all foggy and unreal - the room, the light, the TV, him being here.

He would fall asleep, wake up and sleep again. Somebody came through the door - the nurse. She did something with his body, looked at some displays and left.

His wife was unfolding the couch and laid down on it.

Little by little the darkness outside retreated and he could see the buildings, the street, cars moving. He did not hear any sound through the windows and all this looked like a silent movie. He did not recognize the street.

He tried to get up and go to the toilet several times but again his wife softly stopped him trying to explain that he had a catheter. In a few minutes he tried again and was stopped with a smile and a patient explanation.

Little by little the world came into focus and his mind started working. But still the whole thing - hospital, being sick, nurses coming and going.

Faces of friends, relatives and his kids and grandkids were like a blur. Surreal.

Days went by. Time was stretching and flying by his semiconscious mind poisoned by medications.

He dosed off during the day, woke, ate and looked at TV without really watching it. The world outside was getting dark and lighting up in rapid succession.

He knew that he did not like any of this. His wife always by his side was his anchor, his connection to the world. He felt the need to be near her at all times, he felt lost when she was not near him.

The doctor allowed him to get up and walk with the nurse and that helped his body and mind to get stronger. His wife told him what happened. Cardiac arrest - his heart stopped while they were in the bedroom. She saved his life.

He thought about it, wondering about his miraculous survival and wondering if what he was seeing and experiencing now was real. He remembered science fiction stories and parallel universes. His imagination was playing out different versions. What if he was really in the other universe and just didn't know, did not see the subtle differences?

Finally the doctors allowed him to go home. His kids came to help. They all walked to the car helping and supporting him on the way. As they drove he was looking at the buildings, the streets, trying to notice if there was anything different, strange about what he was seeing. He could not see any differences from what he remembered but he still was not sure. He thought that memory loss would prevent him from noticing anything different.

It took him a while to get used to normal life again. Some things were hard. Especially at night. He could not sleep normally in bed and in the dark room.

Panic and anxiety were choking him. He would get up and walk, try to sleep in his chair, on the couch. Drink some tea. Trying to calm himself. He could not sleep close to his wife or hug her in bed - he did not have enough air. He would sit in his chair and count hours, waiting for the morning to come.

Pills helped some but he had a hard time getting up in the morning. He felt better during the day.

And all this time since he woke up, there was a nagging feeling, almost subconscious, about being in a coma, still laying in a hospital bed, about the reality of this world. What if all his life after cardiac arrest, life after death, is just his dream? And if it is true, what difference does it really make? After all, we don't really know what reality is.

But as time passed he was getting used to the daily routine. Company of friends, spending time with kids and grandkids. And his wife, his life companion, always by his side. Almost back to normal. But he still has a hard time planning ahead.

When THIS happened he did not feel, he did not know what happened to him Until he woke up 3 days later in the hospital. What if he had not woken up? He wouldn't even know that he lived and died.

But... How does he know he is really alive? How do we know what “really” being conscious is? Do we realize that in deep sleep a dream is not “real”?

The spring came. Birds, the sun, the flowers. Thunderstorms and winds - he lives in Chicago after all.

All this can end without warning, in the blink of an eye. And that scared him. But he tried to push away the thought.

The weather was great. The Botanic Garden was waking up from winter slumber. It is a different atmosphere in such places, maybe because a certain type of people go there. Bright blue sky and, emerging fragile and yet unstoppable, the awakening of all kinds of plants. It soothes the soul. He was just wandering around with his wife with nothing in particular on his mind.

He tried to look around. Small dim lit room. Clicking noises, something humming. Flickering. His bed – metal, like a hospital bed. Hospital? What the hell? Window to his right. It was dark outside. He saw his wife looking at him. "Where am I, what is going on? Why?"

Often we do not remember our deep sleep dreams. Maybe there is a reason why.   

13Apr/170

This World Is Ours

Posted by Nate

The world is ours
I am going about daily business as if nothing changed, nothing is wrong.
But I feel uneasy.
The storm is coming and I feel empty and heavy at the same time.
The uncertainty, it creeps in my heart.
This anticipation, expectation of something,
Something awful.
Maybe it is just paranoia?
The world is disintegrating around me.
Ignorance, hate and fear are rising like poisonous fog, creeping, enveloping all.
And I am unable to be just an impartial observer. It is not who I am.
And it shows, my friends can see it in me.
Take it easy they keep telling me. Everything will be fine. Eventually.
Eventually is not good enough.
I think many now can feel this dark primal fear around.
Fear is the companion of hate.
Ignorance feeds fear and fear breeds hate.
 
Only we humans are capable of hate, blood thirsty hate toward our fellow humans.
Is hate a trait of intelligence? Of reason?
Animals do not have the ability to reason and maybe that is why animals don't know hate.
Why is it happening now?
Why is all that is bad about humans condensing, getting heavier and stronger, floating to the surface?
Why, in spite of human accomplishments in science, art, music, and technology, is ignorance spreading around our world?
In all of human history, have humans changed at all?
Millennia have passed by and we remain what we were in the ice age.
 
This thirst for power.
It still drives humanity. This insanity leads to wars and suffering of innocents.
Pulls humanity toward extinction.
And some use these lethal traits for their benefit.
Throughout millennia rulers and despots needed ignorance of their subjects to control them.
Nothing changed.
Ignorance fear and hate kill reason.
Fear and hate poison people, rob free will.
Now It has come to America.
No. It always been here.
Hiding, waiting.
Waiting patiently for the opportune time.
 
And it came. Trump Presidency.
Ignorance is contagious. It spreads given the chance.
Ignorance created Trump for self preservation.
Trump gave voice to hate. Fear and hate.
Trump legitimized ignorance and normalized racism.
 
 
In disbelief and desperation we are watching our country being destroyed from the inside.
All that makes America America.
Acceptance, free thinking, sense of fairness, tolerance, appreciation of arts and science.
Compassion and desire to help others.
Being dismantled, destroyed by a crude amoral caricature of a human being.
Whom Americans chose to be President of the United States of America.
 
Americans. Are they?
Are these people really Americans?
Are these ignorant, hateful and full of fear humans really Americans?
Just because they happen to be born here?
Does that make them what we and the world knows as Americans?
These people, by electing Trump, disregarded all moral, human values.
They sacrificed the integrity that they think they have.
They ignored logic and basic decency.
Why?
For what?
 
This election shook my faith in humanity and human values.
It forced me to write this.
Where do we go from here? What do we do?
And who are “we”?
Do we the people still matter?
Can thinking people, especially younger generations, change anything?
Should we give up? Can we give up?
Please look in the mirror.
Listen to your conscience, to your heart.
Can we afford to give up?
Can we allow the haters to have their way?
I am clinging to hope.
Looking for a silver lining.
What does not kill us makes us stronger.
Will America survive?
 
It is up to you. Up to us.
25Mar/170

Democracy?

Posted by Nate

Trump presidency

American democracy

Country that elected Trump is not fit for Democracy.

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