HATE.

when did it become so easy to HATE?
my oxford dictionary defines "HATE" as 1. to dislike (someone or something)intensely. 2. to be unwilling (to do something). i like the second part of this defintion most - i feel it describes the whole concept of HATE perfectly. isn't 'HATE' simply a strong feeling we have for something (or someone) bound up in our own unresolved issues...issues we want nothing to do with - things we want as far away from ourselves as possible. it makes it much easier for us to deal with them if they are easily wrapped up (with a neat and tidy bow) in a concept known as HATE.
now that would be all fine and good if only HATE would stay wrapped up and simple, unfortunately it does not seem to work that way. instead HATE starts wars, it kills people, it robs people of their rights and freedoms...it causes disaters...if not in their physical forms then in hidden forms, sometimes causing more wreckage than their counter-parts.
i myself am HATEd. what started out as anger, mean-ness and pointed criticism has become HATE. it has finally been labelled, but that is only half the battle. perhaps the worst part of this HATE is that it is grounded in nothing tangible. this is all about the second defintion of the word, but i feel as though it has become my responsibility to deal with it. When asked why he HATEs me - he points out my inability to share his sense of humor and my devotion to my job. are these reasons to HATE? are there ever any real reasons to HATE? does this make sense?

since i am a self-professed masochist, i wonder...I probably wonder too much. but it hits me hard that I am HATEd. in my head i know that this 'HATE' is so much about the HATEr and not the HATEd, but i turn it around enough in my head to make it spin. he does not know me. but he HATEs me. its almost like he has a secret passage way into my brain. into all the things that i HATE about myself. like he knows them and thats the only way he could really HATE me...i think about it endlessly like a looped chipmunks song in my head...
...but really in the end isn't this not just me HATEing myself?
i am angry at him for making me see all the things i HATE about me. its not fair, in his defintion he is ALLOWED to do nothing about it - since this in and of itself makes up the defintion of HATE. but for me, doing nothing means going on HATEing all the parts of me that i think he has a secret key for. i dont get the luxury of doing nothing because i have to get up ever morning and fight this battle to be me..

i'm caught in an HATE paradox...

and i HATE it.

where was the signal?

as we return to the battle being waged by our army of one..we find our protagonist standing patiently on the sidelines with her arsenal. she watches, she waits, she endures the internal struggle of wanting so badly to jump into action (resisting her ingrained impulse to plunge into the fight). she reminds herself she has been asked to wait, to try her hardest to allow her solider to fight his own battle. she has told herself to resist the urge to wonder why her solider has asked her to do this and to simply allow it to happen as so many of the bystanders have let her know this is the best route to take...

time goes by...

every once in awhile her internal struggle purges her into fighting action (following her heart rather than her head - while bystanders look on and shake their heads). when her solider realizes she is fighting he turns to her and frowns telling her to return to the sidelines, she complies each time a little more confused and defeated. like a masochistst, she continues to make this mistake - jumping in - and giving into her inherent nature... finally, her soldier appears to tire of her attempts - he screams aloud about her deficiencies as a solider, he strikes his own blow into her side, wounding her. As she shrinks to the sidelines to have her wounds treated she wonders to herself...what kind of battle is this? she is aware she jumped in not knowing who her antagonist was...only wanting to battle with her solider and remind him of his reserves...and somehow she has become his protagonist...

alone, wounded, she ponders her abilities - she re-assesses the battle plan and realizes that there is none. she realizes her mistake at jumping in 'too early' and she finally makes the ultimate decision to watch, to wait, and to have her arsenal ready - she finally agrees with the rest of her army and waits for the signal to re-enter...

then one day...she hears yelling and screaming in her direction. it is her solider. he is angry with her, although his words are confused. She decifers that he is anger at her for not jumping in when she should have. but wait! did she miss the signal? was she looking somewhere else?

she gathers her arsenal as quickly as she can (although in the waiting she has lost her quick reflexes, her weapons feel heavy, her heart is beating faster, she realized she has become gun shy due to her last ingury) and she does not move as swiftly as she had before...she rushes in as fast as she can, carrying her tools. another solider, whom she has come to respect greatly in this war, approaches her to tell her of her soldier's wishes. this soldier explains that her solider engaged in his army of one is upset with her...angry...as she did not jump in when she should have seen the signal. she is shocked.

she is defeated..confused...for once again she feels she is being asked to step aside, her soldier has begun welcoming those tools and comrades into the fight........ and she is not one of them.

what should she do? she stands shocked, her thoughts reeling as she tries to find the mistakes that she made - she tries to think of how she can undo her actions...but she has once again been shut out. she sits, surrounded by her tools...she watches...as her soldier drifts farther away in his fight - she realizes he is moving away from her more than emotionally...now physically in his fight and as he moves it will become more and more difficult for him to see her waiting for another signal, so that she can prove she is ready to fight by his side.

she sits as she watches the fight recede ever so slowly further and further away from her...over the horizon.

a prologue to an allusion...

what is the academic (possibly literary) word that means "to go back and review a previous plot point"?
beacuse this word currently encapsulates my existance and will hereunto become quite evident as being the precipitating factor of my return to the blog-osphere. This word will become the basis of the next few blogs that will make their ways from my head to my keyboard...