Complacency vs. Disability

Who am I?

What is my place?

I want to help.
I don’t know how.

Black lives matter,

because all lives matter.

Do I stay silent and let

more qualified people talk?

Is my silence harmful?

I need to educate myself
on my lingering ignorance.
There is a lot.
But I don’t know how.

It’s not easy.
Simple does not equal easy.
I’m disabled.

My personal cognitive issues don’t compare to the systemic oppression of so many others.
But I feel like my disability is often overlooked or ignored,
or not believed,
and used as a weapon against me.

I’m not lazy.
I’m disabled.
I want to educate myself.
I want to research what I need to know.
But I don’t know how.

I know how physically.
I don’t know how mentally.

I used to wonder about slavery. About the Civil Rights movement.
If I were alive then, would I choose the moral, the righteous side,
or remain complacent and just watch history as it happened?

I’m a very complacent person.
I’m used to not being able to affect things.
I’m used to not taking sides.

Often, taking manufactured sides is evil.
Politics, religion, any damn disagreement.
The Us vs. Them mentality is pure evil.

But racism.
Racism is pure evil.
Fuck racism.
I want to be on the right side of history.
But I,

I don’t know how.
I don’t know what to do.

It’s not my place to speak out.
It’s not my place to be quiet.

The things I think I can do,

I can’t.

Disability.
It’s a descriptor, not a crutch.

Black lives matter,
because all lives matter.

This is a truth.

Systemic racism is real.
Systemic racism is alive.
Systemic racism is evil.

Systemic racism is raging.

Systemic racism needs to die.
I want to see it die.
Humanity needs to see it die.

I want to help.
I don’t want to be complacent.
I want to protest.
I want to make a difference.

But I just,
I don’t know how.

Reuben's Ramblings: Departing Friends

It's always sad when your good friend or a family made up of your good friends move away. It's not like you'll never see them again, but you also know that that person will never again have a large part in your life. Their role is reduced to "recurring character" status, and by recurring I mean you only get to see them once every year or less.

And, of course, in some cases you never will see them again. They move to whatever state or country, and then you never, ever see them again. You can keep in touch by email or social media, but then sometimes that just doesn't happen. Sometimes you forget about each other, and sometimes your friends move on with their new lives, feeling no need to keep in touch.

This isn't just the case for people moving, either. When a friend transfers to a different school, or even a different church, sometimes they're all happy with their new friends and find no need to associate themselves with the likes of you. As far as they're concerned, you're now irrelevant. All your friendship was for naught.

But then some of them put forth an effect to keep in contact for as long as it can last. They make sure not to forget your existence. Those friends are the best friends.

Reuben's Ramblings: Blog Posts

Years ago, when I was constantly active on this blog, I used to post about anything. I could think, "Hey, it's about time for me to post a new blog post!" and I'd think of something on the spot and write up a post. I used to be worried that posting two blog posts in the same day was too much. Now, though, I feel like I don't have enough to post about.

Nowadays I think, "Hey, it's about time for me to post a new blog post!", so I sit around trying to decide what to blog about, a little too long, before just scrapping the notion entirely. Either I'm a lot less interesting now than I was back then, or I care a lot more about quality content now. If I'm going to write something noteworthy, I need to plan out a time for me to do it. The problem is that I didn't used to care about if what I posted was noteworthy.

The point I'm trying to make is... well... there isn't really one. There often isn't any point to these rambling posts. However, chances are you didn't know that, because this is the first one I've written in two and a half years. And who ever read my blog back then?

Okay, probably more people read it back then than do now. After all, I updated my blog all the time back then, and at present I hardly ever have anything to post about. Ooh, see what I did there? The subject went full circle. I am so smart.

In conclusion, I'm going to try to be more active on here. Wish me a lot of luck. Goodnight, and have a happy birthday.

Reuben's Ramblings: Silent Protagonists

You know what I find very interesting about some video games? Silent protagonists. An NPC (non-player character) asks the protagonist, "Will you help us?" The main character remains completely silent but gives some implication of consent. The NPC then says, "Thank you! Our fate is in your hands!"

What?

You just handed the fate of the entire world (or possibly multiple worlds) into the hands of somebody who never learned how to talk and has probably had no training whatsoever in any sort of fighting? Okay, in the Legend of Zelda series, the protagonist often starts as a strong young man. One who grew up on a farm or training to be a knight or some other way that would leave him being quite strong and capable at the beginning of a game. But what about games such as Chrono Trigger, where the main character has no previous training before the story begins?

This is something I've pondered about for a long time. It hasn’t troubled me—frankly, I find it quite hilarious—but you just have to wonder why so many story-oriented games have almost or completely silent protagonists. I get that they want it to seem like the player fits into the character's role (heck, you can often name your own characters), but I really prefer games where the main character actually has a personality. It’s left for the player’s imagination, but frankly, my imagination really sucks. Games with silent protagonists often seem to me to portray their main characters as… kind of dumb.

In truth, I wouldn’t have it any other way. In the games I’ve mentioned and more, it just wouldn’t be the same with talking protagonists. But then again, look at games such as Tales of Symphonia or several of the Final Fantasy games. Those games could have had silent protagonists and still have been pretty cool, but because their protagonists were given voices and personalities, they were absolutely amazing. Of course, that was also due to the games having amazing plots.

I don’t know where this is going. I can’t imagine Link with a personality, and sometimes giving normally silent characters a personality is not such a good idea. Look at what happened to Metroid.

Reuben's Ramblings: Cutting

There are some things I just find hard to understand. One of those things is cutting. Teens inflict physical pain on themselves in order to forget about emotional pain in their lives. I have been depressed before—some would strongly disagree, but I can hide my feelings well—but I have never had the slightest impulse to inflict that much pain on myself. Sometimes I've wanted to inflict pain on others, sometimes I just feel like breaking things, but I’ve never wanted to do anything quite as… painful to one's self as cutting is.

It could just be that I have an abnormal fear of physical pain—this fact is probably due to how physically weak I am—or it could be for some other reason. But whether or not I've had the impulse to cut myself has nothing to do with this. It's what has given the impulse to others that does.

Until a couple years ago I didn't know much about cutting. I knew it existed, but I didn't really think about it much. Then I read the Patrick Bowers Files by Steven James. Tessa, the daughter of the main character, was a cutter. Thankfully she changed over the course of the series, but it still scared me. It was the first time cutting was really explained to me, and I was exasperated that so many people would actually do it.

I now know several people who used to cut, and even some that still do. These people always try to hide it when you talk to them, and that in itself is depressing. I once told a friend, "Cutting won't help anything." She retorted, angrily, "I don't cut to help myself. I cut to punish myself for living." Seriously, what has this world come to that thousands or millions of people would inflict terrifying pain on themselves just because they hated themselves? Every person hates themselves at one point in their life or another, but sometimes I'm shocked by the degree people will take it to.

What is the point of this rant? There is none, really. Sometimes I just need to get things out of my system. If you're a teen and you cut or are tempted to do so, just stop! Isn't there some other way to bleed out your depression or anger? Start a depression journal or blog. Do something else. Just find some other way to release your anger. Cutting just saddens me.

Reuben's Ramblings: Christmas Day/Eve

"Merry Christmas!"

Remarkable, isn't it? The amount of people posting on Facebook the day before Christmas to wish everyone a Happy Holidays? I get up in the morning to check my social networks and email and see, "Merry Christmas!" "Merry Christmas Eve!" "Just wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas!" "Happy Holidays to all!" "Merry Christmas!" This leads me to ask a question.

Why is everyone saying "Merry Christmas" when tomorrow is Christmas Day?

Today is Christmas Eve; I'll give them that much. And for many who live in other countries, it really is Christmas today. Somebody gave me the argument that people want to spend time with their families on Christmas Day rather than spending time on Facebook, but I'm thinking they'll get on Facebook anyway. It doesn't take much to sign into Facebook, post a message and get off.

And what's also interesting is that tonight, I felt like wishing everybody a Merry Christmas as well. How quickly my viewpoint changed. This was just a random ramble anyway. One of far too many that will be coming in the days, weeks, months and possibly even years to come.