GROUND ZER0, New York, N.Y.--April 3, 2004 -- Many people think they are "different from" everyone else.
       This feeling drives them into a cave, huddled, arms hugging their knees, eyes flicking about in the dark, ears cocked for any sound that might signal an intruder seeking to expose their "difference" to the world.

        This disease is called "inferiority."    It is a sense of being "less than" others, separated from the herd, "different" in a negative sense.
        Some people feel this way because they think they are too fat or too skinny, too tall or too short, too uneducated or too unworthy, too poor or too unskilled.
        These divisions between "being like" and "being different" exist within the mind, often fed by comments or actions by people who tend to look "down" on others and presume their humanity is above others.   These are those people who think they are a hammer and others are nails.  They are Personality Terrorists, who like to drive wedges between themselves and others, and dance alone with an elite few upon the head of the nail.
         They are as inaccurate in their judgment of themselves as they are in those they scoff at or disenfranchise for being of a "lower order."  They live in their own caves, however well heated and fur-lined such caves might be.

         But the majority live in the Cave of Intimidation.    They shrink from associations with others on the grounds they are "not worthy" or that others will "harm them" and, like the dog that has been beaten once too often by his master, runs to the cave and hides in the darkness so as not to risk the danger of another beating, no matter how friendly the new person holding out the bone seems to appear.  The dog is sure that beneath the skin of the "friend" beats the heart of the Beast of Terror, a Violator of Trust, a Heart Crusher who will reach into the chest and rip out the dog's heart and gnaw on it in front of him.
        That makes the cave so much more excitingly safe.    It makes the cold, damp, dankness of the bowels of the earth appear like a hearth of safety instead of its true nature--a dungeon of the soul.
         I know a little bit about the Cave Of Intimidation.    I have lived in one for most of my life, occasionally sticking out my head to try and live in the sunshine and commingle with the creatures of Light and Sunshine, hoping they would not hurt me, punish me and banish me back to the caves.
         I have been unsuccessful in such a quest.
         This, I am finding out, is not because the world turned against me when I was a child, but because I believed the world turned against me as a child.   There is a difference and that difference is about as thick as the leading edge of finely honed razor.

       This "Terror Of Being Different" is a quiet Terror.  It often surrounds itself with boisterous personality, a kind of shield attempting to mask the reality within that the person making all the noise and shouting and gesticulating is actually trying to ward off anyone attempting to get close.   The power of such a personality is like a reverse magnet repelling rather attracting those seeking to penetrate the noise.
        That's pretty much how I've done it.
        I've made a lot of "white noise" in an attempt to cover my Cave of Intimidation and camouflage it so that no one, often even myself, knows it is my retreat, my haven, my personality coffin where I can be in state of stasis, avoiding facing the world's challenges of "being part of," and "integrating within" the "normal flow" of humanity.
        Those of us who "feel different from," who deep down believe that aliens deposited them here on earth to try and integrate with humanoids, find it virtually impossible to hold another's hand in a link of human equality on the grounds that we are all equal, all given the same opportunity, all able to climb the same ladders regardless of race, color, creed or born rank.
        Cave Creatures such as myself and others know that of the six billion people on this earth, we are different.    No matter how hard we try, we can never "be like" others.   We can't be like the rich or the poor.  And, for sure we can't be in the middle.  We can't be like the smart or the dumb, the fat or thin, the ugly or the beautiful.    We can't fit in the middle or the ends of humanity, and however we try to wriggle ourselves into different roles and play different parts, in the end we are stripped naked.  In the end we stand humiliated before the Mirror of Truth that we are "Nothings," and "Nobodies".   And we run wildly through the twisted underbrush to find our caves and scramble wildly down the narrow passages until we sit with our backs against the cold jagged rocks we carved with our bare hands from the womb of the earth and clutch ourselves and wait for the sounds of the Beast's footsteps to track us down.
         I would have never thought I was a Cave of Intimidation Dweller.   Over the past few weeks I have been undergoing intense therapy for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder at the VA hospital in Manhattan.   
         The horror I witnessed at Ground Zero on Nine Eleven mixed new pain with old pain, conspiring to drive me further into the Cave of Intimidation where for years I have retreated, unbeknownst even to myself. 

       That part of me that didn't want to face the Truth ran, like the wounded child, to hide under the covers in hopes there was some safety, some security in the darkness.
        Abused children seek such hiding places.  They will often hide in closets, under beds, under porches, as any frightened animal might, hoping that the walls around them will serve to thwart the imposing threat.
         Some of us create, as we grow older, Caves of Intimidation in the mind so that when we face the horror of confrontation, when someone violates our Trust, or when we feel violated, we can run, hide, dwell within ourselves in hopes of securing safety.
         I was told the other day that I must come out of the Cave of Intimidation.
         I can no longer hide inside it.
         I must face reality, I was told.
         I must not be afraid of my own demons.
         I understood what was being said, but I have trouble accepting it.    I am a warrior, a brave and strong man.    I have fought many battles.   How could I be a frightened child rushing to a Cave of Intimidation?

        But as the therapist went on, I began to realize he was right.  I actually saw my Cave.  I saw my isolation.  I saw myself shoving everyone away and huddling in the darkness, fearful of being hurt by them, never wanting to open up for fear the Beast of Disillusion would crush what little strands of faith I had left in myself and others.
         I was told to take the risk.
         To create a new world.
         To become Vigilant and manufacture the Courage, Conviction and Right Actions to escape the Cave of Intimidation.
         I think I must.
         I believe I have no choice.
         If you even think you live in such a place, or, that you may be digging yourself such a cave, STOP.   Take the Pledge of Vigilance. 
         There is a world beyond that Terrorism creates worth living in.   We just need to learn to build Villages of Vigilance instead of Caves of Intimidation to protect us.
         I'm willing to try.  Are you?

April 2--Wichita Stalked By Beast Of Binding-Torture-Killing Terror

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