The Human Condition


Our cozy little planet is presumed to have existed for over four and a half billion years. In the most recent three of those, it has been teeming with life. They come and go, and more than we will ever know of. The truth is there have been many species of fascinating creatures that crawled, squirmed, floated, swam, galloped, trotted, scurried, walked, ran and flown throughout our ever changing environment called Earth. Each had its mechanism for being. Each had the means with which to move about, perpetuate and thrive; the means with which to process some form of cognition, or maybe at the very least the means with which to perceive. Each had within it the mechanism responsible for ending the inadequate; the unnecessary; the obsolete. Some of these creatures persisted for millions of years before the mechanism within them led them down that narrowing path. To appear as if they never existed or at best to forever sequel into a display at the Smithsonian. To be something to learn from. We humans, the latest upgrade model of hominid, are no different. We have our own mechanism of survival, perpetuation, and ultimately, our own demise, “The Human Condition.”

The human condition, it mars the soul, and burdens the spirit. It is the initiating tool, cycle and grand culmination of all of societies mistakes and undoings. Whether you think of it as sin, failure, shortcomings, ethical or moral turpitude, or unhealthy normal reactions to abnormal stress. It divides us from harmony. It unites us in doleful conspiracy. It diminishes our value as a species. It threatens to resolve our issues with finality. To cure the infection we fester upon this planet by allowing us to render ourselves onto the path of extinction. We can learn to heal the wounds of the human condition. Treat the symptoms, and practice good preventative care, and we will prevail. Cure the human condition and we will evolve to something better; something truly amazing.

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Nada Mas, Nada Menos


Nada Mas, Nada Menos

WRITTEN BY PATRICK B OVIEDO JR. NOVEMBER 7TH, 2013



Susurros del viento en este espacio de reposo

 Sin piedad me despierta a una batalla de emociones, confundido, desorientado

Invade llevando el humo de algún lugar del fuego lejano

 No puedo oler el humo, sólo la esencia de piel en esa lisa curva desde su cuello a su hombro

La resonancia de su voz me persigue sin descanso

En mis recuerdos la veo caminar hacia mí.  Se acerca, más cerca, más cerca

Su rostro radiante con una cautelosa mirada, su risa, evocaciones  que son imborrables

Recuerdo la vista cuando ella se alejó caminando despacito

Que me inspira es innegable

En un momento sin dudarlo me dejó nada más que hacer

Anhelando ella, se llena este pecho palpitante al punto de reventar

 Ella desesperadamente busca santuario y valorización silencioso

Por ella y su ternura no se puede tolerar cualquier dolor ni un momento más

Dice que no puedo ser su hombre, para ella solamente 

Y así es que la quiero, desde una distancia tan vasto como el Universo y la eternidad, inacapable, con respeto, con dignidad, en silencio.

Porque hay nada más que pueda hacer y simplemente puedo hacer nada menos




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