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In Absence of Love

Alone is a simple enough word to comprehend, but for some of us it is a fact of life. We linger in a world without the recognition of our opposite sex and we only find solace in our dreams.

In our dreams, we remember the touch of a woman, but it is only an illusion. When we stir from our slumber, awakening to reality, we are again confronted by how utterly incomplete our existence has become.
In the absence if a female touch; a feminine perspective; a soft voice to soothe the spirit; I do not feel as though I have been deprived of contact with another. I feel as though a part of myself has been removed. I feel naked and afraid.

My logic tells me that it will only be for awhile longer and then all will be restored, but my heart longs for love in such a way that this day, this moment, this very second of suffering may very well last an eternity.
The world may come to an end and I will be left floundering in a perpetual state of solitude.

I pray always that the sun may rise and set swiftly before I turn to stone; that I will look up from my lowly state one day soon to find freedom just over a green hill. The question is not will I receive, but do I deserve the love for which I long. Some of you say no, that I am a criminal and I am in receipt of my requisite fate.

You are entitled to you own opinion, but please reconsider on these grounds. Until you have stood here in my shoes and experienced his life of confinement, until you have felt the immense weight of your very soul reach forth from within in an attempt to tear you asunder, do not pass judgment on me.

Until you have dwelt in absence of love, do not ever wish such a fate on another. Love is too important to the healing process. Love is the only bond that can unite the divided and to force its absence upon anyone, for whatever reason, is to be viewed in my eyes as cruel and unusual punishment.

Jeheshua

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW

The Only Way

I guess that on some level I have always understood how impossible it is to save everyone, but only recently have I come to realize the utter futility of what is wrong, but I cannot fix it. We must all come to grips with our own fate. We must fend for ourselves in a world full of wolves.

Each one of us has a quest to fulfill, a setback to overcome and a decision to make. We are all born into a dream and you can only be awakened of your own accord. There is no help to be had by another, One is one and not other. Amongst a world of many ,we are alone on our journey.

The answers we seek can only be sought within, and any attempt to assist another will only cripple them in the long run. If I take your suffering upon myself, then I deprive you of a lesson you were meant to learn. Life does not make mistakes. Life is without remorse, and life's lessons will not be denied! We are always offered lessons in the lightest capacity. Our problem is we ignore them and in so doing force a stronger event to be set in motion.

Our eyes are sewn shut, our ears are plugged up and our hearts are encased in stone. We are pawns to the outside world, to our families , to our friends, to society and most all to our chosen God.

We refuse to accept what we have created, and always we blame others in the place of ourselves. We seek escape at every turn in the maze driven by panic, anger and fear. We are lost, but eventually we will find the way. Eventually we will realize the truth. Eventually we will learn to help ourselves.
It is not one way. It is the only way and all paths will lead to it.....................eventually.

Jeheshua

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW

Between the Lines

Over the years I have learned to express myself through my writing and I like to think of myself as good. However, this ability is not something which can be turned on at will. It is beyond me in a sense. When my pen touches paper, something happens which is not wholly of myself, but which is not all together different. What happens is a thing of beauty, a gift, and a total surprise. It is something that exists in absence of my control, and until now, I have never made an attempt to explain it.

You see, I, myself, understand what is going on in the subtext of this story. After all, who better to arrange a director's cut than the director? However, to make you understand will take some work. So please consider this to be an attempt to that end and have some level of understanding for I am new to this branch of writer's scope (introspection).
Words do not just form out of thin air, despite the use of my tools, pen and paper, I do not claim to have molded them in the same way that a sculptor molds a piece of clay into a statue.

What happens is something closer to that of a duet or a collaboration of sorts. To the majority of the world the only possible truth of story composition (or composition in general) is that I, the author, have created, out of my own mind, an original and totally self oriented piece of writing, but nothing could be further from the truth. True, I did not copy someone else's word in order to pass them off as my own. However, I wouldn't describe my writing as creating. A musician doesn't create music. In reality, the music already exists. All he does is rearrange the notes to exist in harmony with one another. My gift is the same. My pen and paper are instruments, the forum of language is the scale of notes and my finished essays, poems, et cetera are songs. They are songs of the mind.

Which brings us to another question. If I did not create these songs , then whose mind did?

My answer is very simple.........."You did" . Sounds crazy, right? Do you know why that sounds crazy? I sounds because your thought matrix cannot process it in the same context that I am explaining it. In your linear brain construct things are self-sustaining and separate. Time seems to move in a straight line, but in reality things are more complex.

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW

IT'S FUNNY

Raining in the mind. Who or what gives us the idea that we are capable of controlling that which governs our lives? How do you use the mind to control the mind? It is impossible! One will reach certain madness before any perfection can be attained. In fact, I believe if perfection of wisdom were ever truly reached it would cause a breakdown in the system of existence itself. If anyone were to fully realize their infinite power of divinity it would cause all of existence to cease.

The dream we now live in is a self sustaining one and we are all key players in its ongoing cycle. Not only that, but I believe, without a doubt , that we are its' creator. Our concepts of reality are not only side effects of its occurrence, they are the cause of reality itself. One could not perceive itself within itself as a result, one created division. Once division was created relation between two or more objects rendered very much information, but the one (or "none" as would have it) lost consciousness of itself and was blinded by the dream it had created.

Now here trapped in this cell, this illusion of emptiness, we are all called home. Though most of us don't hear nor understand the true meaning of the screams for attainment that well up from within. We attempt to fill this bottomless pit with material possessions and worldly pleasures. We do not see beyond this veil of negative existence. Some hear the screams and form them into an idol of worship. I am not that type at all. I do not see an answer. I don't even understand the question. All I know is nothing at all. There is not enlightenment in this world because the very nature of dwelling in this world negates such a possibility. You can't light a match under water!

The realization of that fact is all we could ever hope to reach but only a fool would ever hope for more . Only a fool would fail to see the humor in it all.

Jeheshua

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW

How Many

Since 2004, I have been a prisoner and for good reason. I was convicted of two counts of Aggravated Involuntary Manslaughter, for the taking of two innocent lives in a drunk driving accident. I was sentenced and remanded to a prison within the United States Department of Corrections. My earliest possible release will be not be for several years.

As on who has carried the burden of his actions, I understand all too well what I have taken. I have hurt so many people by my ignorance that early morning in the summer of early 2002. For what I have taken I am indebted, not just to the families of my victims, but to all of humanity. I cannot fix what I have done. It is beyond any man to change his past, but my future is another story.

It is for that future that I now write. Every so often I come across a news story about a fatal car crash that involved somebody like me. Every time I wonder 'could that have been the one that I prevented?'

There are so many young ignorant kids out there who are either unable or unwilling to acknowledge the fact that their actions have consequences. They are unable or unwilling to see the fact that what they do affects others as well. I believe with all of my heart that my story could help to open their eyes, but in my current state, I am unable to reach them.

There are a few things that judges, lawmakers and the general public need to know about most people who commit this type of 'crime'. This crime is not one which is motivated by malice. Buy the very wording of the charge itself...involuntary etc....one would assume that this concept was a given. Yet despite a persons lack of intention, life is still lost. Our purpose as a society should not be to punish the ignorant, but to insure that this doesn't happen in the future.

You have to understand that nobody is afraid of going to jail for a DUI. How many people are killed by drunk drivers each year, how many are convicted and thrown into prison and how much does the rate of fatal DUI accidents differ as a result of those prison sentences? You cannot train a dog by constantly beating him. Fear has never bee, is not and never will be the answer to this problem.

The answer is awareness. The answer is in the enlightening of ignorant minds by using the life experience of those who have been through an ordeal like my own. Victims and offenders need to come tighter and use their collective stories to open the eyes of a public that believes, much like I once did, that this is something that happens and to other people.

As long as people believe that they are in control of their own lives and that they are above this type of occurrence, they will never fear the law. Why fear a prison sentence for something which could not possibly happen to you? How does anyone learn the consequences if nobody is there to teach them?

I was 21 years old and I was on top of the world. Nothing could touch me. I could make it home. Why not? I'd done it so many times before. I am them! I'm your child! Don't you see? Tougher sentences are not the answer. We have to reach the hears and minds of these people by showing them how much pain one mistake can cause. Prison time has not hurt me in the ways that I thought it would. I can deal with living without for a while, but how many people can live without my story and stories like it. Just like the two victims who perished , how many innocent people will die because someone like myself never got to hear a story that could have changed their lives forever" ?

How Many?


Jeheshua

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW

Manipulation -- part 2

Many people steal, rob, and manipulate to get by. That is just the nature of prison. We are just victims of our environment. To most people who live outside, we deserve everything we get because " let's face it, we are criminals". . I mean we are different aren't we? Then again, maybe we are all the same.

Aren't our prisons just a reflection of our society's biggest flaws ? In reality, a chin is only as strong as its' weakest link . The problem isn't truly crime and criminals. The real problem is the necessities and traits that create crime and criminals. The real problem is poverty. We can't just lock everyone up and hope they are rehabilitating themselves. We have to help them. We have to realize that prisoners are no different than citizens. We all lie, manipulate and steal to a certain degree. If your survival depended on how well you could manipulate another human being, you would become very good at it.

People sell drugs to feed their families. In return, addicts lie, cheat and steal to feed their addiction. These problems no longer belong to criminals alone. They belong to us all as one nation as one world. Our culture is falling apart because we have become so selfish and insecure that we would build our lives on the failures of others. . We take advantage of each other. I am a criminal, but the guy on Wall Street who just embezzled 2 billion dollars is a hero. We hurt each other everyday and our children see us do it. What do you think they will do when given the chance.

As a nation, we can fix this, but we need to stop looking at what everyone else is doing wrong and start looking in the mirror. I have accepted responsibility for my actions and I am doing my best to steer my ever-changing life in a better direction.

What about you?

Jeheshua.

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW

GODS

anyone who struggles will adapt and grow. That is a natural law. The trick is the correct amount of the pressure in the right area to reap the required results. Growth is a good thing when one grows in the right direction.

All roads will eventually lead to the same destination. However soem travelers will reach that destination much sooner and with less scrapes and bruises . If one reaches a state of harmony with their true will then they will be in harmony with the surrounding universe. And if they abide in such harmony then they will transend any accepted concept of pain and suffering.

If any instance of suffereing is taken as a mere feedback and used for the sole purpose oflearning from that particular moment of life experience then every future moment of apparent pain and suffereing will be transformed into a direct cause of enlightenment.

The key is to let go of the urge to esacpe situations that we perceive as a trheat to our ego selves and to embrace all of life wholeheartedly. We must take hold of the wheel and steer our selvesto freedom. Your demons are just as much a part of you as your God is. If you attempt to deny the influx of the realization into your lifethanyou debase the most basic law of our existence. Without darkenss there can be no light. Without evil, how would we know good and without pain, we could never fully grown into the Gods that we were meant to become.

Jeheshua

What's your "perfect world"?

LPW

Who is Thom DeLorenzo and why is he here? Because Thom is an activist of the highest order and goes to the mat when he finds a client, a cause or something that is of great import to him. Here's a bit about him and then his essay. Read more about him at the end of this piece.

Thomas DeLorenzo

Until just a few years ago, Thomas DeLorenzo never would have believed he could become an HIV/AIDS activist. Before he was "officially" diagnosed with HIV in 2001 -- with 60 T cells and a viral load of 300,000 -- Thomas had been living in denial. And until 2006, he was too busy dealing with the many side effects of his own HIV meds to think about helping anyone else. Then he and his doctors finally figured out the perfect med combo -- and for the first time in many years, Thomas felt, that he actually had a future..

I was not always this outspoken with my status. In fact, in the beginning, I was incredibly fearful. I knew I had AIDS well before the doctors made it official. I was living in denial not stupidity. I knew that when you lose as much weight as I did and you are eating McDonald's pretty much every day, something isn't working right. I knew that the sheets were not supposed to be wet every morning from my never-ending night sweats. I knew all that -- but I still did nothing about it.

I like to say that I didn't make a move until I felt comfortable with my insurance. Being self-employed, I get the privilege of buying my own policy, making me vulnerable for cancellation at the insurance company's whim.

I tell people I didn't use my policy for the first year in fear of being cancelled for a pre-existing condition, but what really happened was I was just too scared to confront the truth. I had seen it all before and still was in complete disbelief that my body could actually betray me like this. I mean, didn't we have some unspoken bond, that if we worked together, we would be better off?

Apparently my body didn't get that memo.

Instead, I lied to everyone around me as to how I lost the weight, become gaunt looking, and just slowly removed myself from the social scene. As a publicist, you are expected to go out all of the time. I could barely make it through the day, much less spend the nights at endless events, and typically I would head straight to bed after work for what was only going to be a few minutes, turning quickly into the entire night. I would miss meals just because I was too tired to get up to do anything about them.

I finally opted to go and visit my long time therapist, Laura Morris. I just blurted out simply, "I am sick." Being the Jewish mother she was, she instantly clung to other reasons than that elephant I had now sitting in the room with me. Instead of giving me advice, she simply shared her news -- her breast cancer recently returned for the third time and she was in the middle of chemo treatments. I had my first survivor buddy.

Initially, I would just sit in my apartment crying, and not doing anything about what was going on. And I just kept getting sicker. At one point my father said, "Are you okay?" and I lied and said I was fine, knowing full well what was going on in my body.

Christmas that year would be a challenge, for I could barely make it through the day. I had made this bargain with myself that I would get through the holiday and I would immediately find a doctor in Los Angeles and begin treatments. I was home, and it was December 26th, 2000, and I was having AIDS symptoms as if it were 1988 all over again. I was underweight by 25 pounds, experiencing spiking fevers and rarely made it off the couch, much less out of bed. I remember praying to God, to have him give me an appetite in Christmas Eve, so my family would not notice that I was hardly eating now.

I somehow found the nerve to attend my 20th high school reunion, in spite of the fact I looked horrible. I kidded myself with the fact that I was able to fit into smaller pants than I did in high school. Never mind that at that point I weighed what I weighed in high school -- something a man who was 38 should not exactly be able to say. I look at pictures of myself from that evening and just wonder what I was thinking. But yet I knew what I was thinking --- I thought I was going to die soon and this would be my last chance to see these people ever again.

I finally made it back to Los Angeles and began the promised hunt for a doctor. With it being between the holidays and having only a few brain cells now fully functioning, I had a difficult time finding a doctor. I finally caved and called a friend and asked for help. I told her I was sick. She said I probably had the flu. I said, "No." She paused.

Prior to that I honestly didn't think I deserved to be saved, that I had caused this to happen and I had all of this and more coming to me. I thought that people would run from me and that I would become this social pariah, alone and unloved. It was only when my back was against the wall that I reached out for help.

The first doctor's visit at Cedars-Sinai, on January 3, 2001, was, well, rather odd. I was completely scared to go alone, or be left alone at any part, and insisted that a friend come with me. This friend is a child television star. She was incredibly supportive, but everyone recognized her. It kind of made for an awkward tone for something so serious. In fact, when my blood was being drawn (for the very first time so I was horrible at it), she was busy signing autographs. It was completely absurd. My advice -- don't bring a public figure to such dramatic moments in your life.

The doctor immediately told me what I had feared so much hearing, that I was most probably HIV positive based on my wasting, no appetite and very noticeable thrush. But the doctor completely missed two major points -- that I had PCP [pneumocystis pneumonia] and that "thing" on my face was KS [Kaposi's sarcoma]. He insisted that he was a KS expert and it was not KS. I would find out he was completely wrong a few weeks later, after the PCP he insisted was not there either was finally out of my system.

A week later, on January 10th I was supposed to return to the hospital for my lab report, but I felt absolutely too weak to move. I called my doctor who gave me my laboratory results on the phone: I had AIDS: my CD4 was 60 and my viral load was 300,000. My doctor instructed me to come to the emergency room immediately. A friend picked me up and I was diagnosed with PCP in the emergency room. They admitted me and I was hooked up to intravenous Bactrim. It turned out to be a dramatic rescue. After I had stabilized, my doctor told me that I had been very close to dying. If I had stayed home, I would have lasted only two to three days more.

After a two-week stay at Cedars-Sinai, I finally found the courage inside me to fight this disease and move on with my life. Actually I can pinpoint the very moment -- it was after I told my mom. The second you tell your mother you have AIDS; everything is all downhill from there. I started immediately to make calls to everyone in my life that had to hear it out of my mouth first. That had to be the moment I took control of my virus.

Many doctors' visits followed. I ended up with a situation they had never seen before -- it now has a name Immune Reconstitution Inflammatory Syndrome, (IRIS) -- because no one had been to the brink and had come back like this before. At least not in 2001. They didn't see PCP and KS anymore. I became a textbook case and was poked and prodded by every intern Cedars could find in Los Angeles County.

There was a moment in March that reminded me of why I fought. It was when I met my second nephew for the first time. He was born as I was flying home to see my family. I just held him in my arms and thought, "My God, I almost didn't make it to meet you. I came so very close to not greeting you into this world." He was just coming into this world, and I came so very close to leaving it just a few weeks before.

Now, I have amazing health, can't keep my mouth shut about my struggles with HIV, am constantly looking for ways to help others with HIV that do not have the advantages I have --- it's a complete turn-around. I am about to do something few people attempt to do at my age, much less people with AIDS -- I plan to attend law school in Fall of 2010. The idea is to study health policy law and take my activism further and get a chance to make more of a difference for many, many more people.

AIDS has taught me much. I would have never guessed that something so very horrible would have turned into an amazing experience, but it really has. It has defined the man I am today, and I like the person I am becoming. I have traveled many roads that people with immune systems don't get a chance to -- good and bad. And I am no longer that scared, insecure boy from Schenectady, New York.

Activists are definitely made, and are not born.

Now Thomas works as a producer and publicist in the entertainment industry and has been widely recognized for his HIV/AIDS activism.
In 2006, the New York Times named him an Unsung Hero in the Fight Against HIV/AIDS for his Christmas Goody Bag Project for the residents of the San Antonio AIDS Foundation Hospice; and in 2008, Thomas was the Foundation's Angel of the Year. Recently, DeLorenzo's alma mater, Hofstra University, named him Alumnus of the Month for his work on behalf of people living with HIV/AIDS.

When not reading or prepping for the LSAT, DeLorenzo writes about the need for a national health care plan from a person with AIDS point of view for the Huffingtonpost.com. His personal life includes lengthy discussions on great works of literature with his favorite accountant

Currently DeLorenzo is putting together his annual goody bags for the AIDS hospice and is seeking donations of items that would be as helpful and uplifting to these patients. If you have a company, brand, store or project that would like to contribute to this effort, please reach out to Thomas DeLorenzo here

LPW

Reflections of a search without beginning or end. Revolutions of the mind rolling forth endlessly without course or affirmation. Such is the so-called spiritual search. I fear this journey is only ventured to bring oneself to immortality and with such motives, all is lost. We seek that which eludes our fleeting sight and we fear what we do not understand. As a result, we draw any shred of truth we may realize into the delusion of me and mine. We hope to grasp the whole of existence withing our fragile mortal grip, yet we can not even gain control over our own minds. How weak and ignorant we hvae become. We are lost as individuals and so we are lost as a community. We stumble forward into this new millenium wiht not a single idea of where we are going. In these degenerate times, most of us refuse to claim any responsibility for our own lives, let alone our cities, states, country or governments. We care not for our planet and we care not for each other We care for only ourselves. We are asleep, trapped in a nightmare that is yesterday and tomorrow. With this apparent decline of mankind, one hope remains. One last labored breath bleeds air into our lungs and life into our blood. That hope is "now". Every individual has the potential to change themselves for the better. With this changing (or evolution) of yourself, you can shine new light into the darkness of the world around you. Our only hope is to do it together. Our only hope is "us". it can be done. I have faith.

Without Fear

Holding steadfast, I am a captive frozen in reliance on the suffering of my life. After all without my sadness, anger and fear who would I be? What would be left to signify my difference to the rest of the sheep. I am not a passenger on this boat. Those days are gone.

I am the ferryman crossing the river Styx only to land upon the shore of perpetual torment and dispair. My futur is filled with the revival of that moment in consecutive order indefinitely. I have come too far to turn back now. I thirst but I cannot drink. I hunger but I dare not eat. The shadows have sustained me forever and a day and I long no more for the return of the light.

My place is here, huddled in teh cold damp darkness of purgatory, relieving those who can no longer bear the cross of fear and hatred alone. I do what I can to help because I have realized that I am no different than any one of them. We are all connected. Including those of you who have labeled us beyond redemption, judged us by the illusions of your own adverse conceptions and cast us into the fires of hell

Don't worry. Your heeaven will be there to accept you despite the afflictions of morality that you keep hidden behind your Bible in your closet and under your bed. I have no contempt for your existence and I was not sent to judge you. Such a thing is beyond any man's qualifications.

Your judgement will come in the end from the shocking realization of your own righteous lack of compassion and forgiveness for your fellow man. It will come from your failure to put others before yourself. It will spring forth from your own selfish heart, crushing your beneath it's weight. I will weep for you i nthat hour, but I will not share your fate. For he who once fell has risen and each time I stumble, crashing back to the earth from whence I came, I will rise again stronger than before.

I push on with renewed dedication to my struggle for redmeption and for all that I have taken. I can only hope for a little more time to do some good in this world. I make the promise to greet the remaining seasons of this life without fear. After what I have endured I know that this is a promise I am fully capable of keeping. Can you say the same?

Jeheshua.