The Great Emptiness

I began jabbering to my mother over coffee about The Great Emptiness this past Sunday.
It's the human condition, a million different faceless, shapeless things that people chase to fill themselves in order to be content, to obtain peace about life and such.


All that finds them after all that chasing is exhaustion, and a large hole that never gets filled, merely continues demanding more. Thus, The Great Emptiness ensues and steals the air right out of their lungs; kicks them when their down and steals their wallet in the middle of their blackout.

I told her how much all their useless chasing, how much our useless chasing breaks my heart. I think about this a lot, probably too much. She sat their nodding, saying a few wise things here and there. I am astounded by my mother-- she is truly a wonderful sort. A woman of great virtue.



I told her what I think of men, and how I feel about women; how they connect, how they interact with each other in their two separate groups and when they come to be together... how they all, at the very core of their being, act as individuals. It all boils down to some strange interest over life mixed with a bitter root somewhere, all my observing twinged, ultimately, with that same delight, reserve, and frustration. You can say this or that and make all kinds of generalizations, but you know that at the end of the day there are exceptions to every rule. So you don't announce them to anyone but you whisper them over casual conversation and you mull it over time and time again in your head.



I know that whatever cold facts of life there may be stamped on humanity, The Great Emptiness changes when God gets into the picture. Then the chasing is even more useless, but we're still all legs and sweat most of the time, running towards the unknown and falling into potholes along the way. The black and white blurs in the middle of a being without limitations or inhibitions.

And on another note:

bitch. the word burns hot and red in my thoughts. a noun used, in its proper sense, to describe a female dog.

I detest the word. People don't understand why I don't approve of it even jokingly. It is a demoralizing, demeaning word, even in a jovial sense. To be blunt, it really pisses me off in both a righteous and unrighteous way. You do not use the word to describe a female, just as you would not use the word nigger to describe a black person. It is as equally demoralizing and offensive.

Women who allow themselves to be called it are allowing themselves to be taken advantage of. Women of all types have a history of being considered no more than property, nothing but slaves and entertainment for men for centuries before we have had such freedom as to go to school, to participate in politics, sports, the arts. But with great power comes great responsibility. There is such great irresponsibility in the midst of such powerful freedom.. most women have no idea what luxury they have. To be able to wear whatever they choose for themselves, but they end up choosing what will get the most male attention. Some people choose to wear what some women, forced into all this crazy sex slave trade business, have no choice but to wear if they desire to live.

The word has been, so many times in my life, tossed around by men and women alike. It is not okay for a father to call his daughter that, no matter how angry he may be or how justified he feels he is. It is not all right for women to call each other that-- if you think about how far individual females have had to fight, even die, for the rights we have as a feminine community today.. proving that they have a power designed especially by God personal and precious, set apart from the task of men but not set aside... we would not curse each other as much as we so often do. It is certainly not okay for men to call women that. Does that make a male a man? To demoralize a woman in such a way as to compare her to a dog? Oh what valor, what virtue! Is this the man you've longed to be all your life.


I was walking with my mother tonight when a young man from the passenger seat yelled that word at us as the truck sped past. It was laughable and pathetic, and yet it sickened me. What if I had been a child, a little girl, would it have mattered? To be exposed to the disgusting and worst side of these less-than-men? Sigh.


I am done. no more talking until my head is clear and my heart is calm.