The Rise of Social Work Policy Implementation in Los Angeles, CA, USA in the 2020’s.

 Some people may have been left wondering: 

What happened to things, in the way that they used to be handled? 

All of a sudden, acts and behaviors that used to seem unthinkable; distant from the perceiver, separate, as that such things would seem to fall into and encompass other people’s lives, rather than our own, become, by various means of introduction, induction, and casualty, therein, more familiarized, with more personal relevance, proximity-wise, and with threatening impact upon the subject’s personal sense of security and risk potential. Increased risk upsets former plans, aspirations, and partitioning of resources of a person, caught unaware. 

In Los Angeles, California, USA, we are considered to be a melting pot societal destination and lifestyle of culture afforded to us. The types of threats that seemed further away and separate from our lives are perhaps calculated out in risk-aversion methods, such as various forms of purchasable insurance policies, as far as that a generalized consumer solution could be imagined. The sorts of endowments afforded by such measures are significant: therapies, of various academic, professional, or medical licensure, degree, or certification - for example, are some of the benefits that are more easily within reach, given various forms of archetypal, or “standardized,” (professional, for example) upbringings, or lifestyles, given that work benefits such as private medical coverage are included, subsidized, or incentivized, as part of an employment package. Growing up as I had, I had medical insurance benefits that saw to it that I received orthopedic work, dentistry, and mental health therapy and psychiatric oversight, as the most prominent needs that were accommodated during my childhood. 

Despite this, nothing could have prepared me (as I’d “put it,” off-handedly), for the onset of schizophrenia in my life. It hit me like a traumatic, persecutors shock experience, with none of the perpetrators owning up to the fact that they had ever -and continue forth, in committing towards me, as well as my loved ones; even casual and professional network connections and contacts - to this very day. The corollary to this stand-off(-esque) claim about these “others” is that they “do” admit to doing these sorts of things (such as “being” the voices in my head), yet the whole dilemma and drama about anything to speak of, whatsoever, happens - yet even still: as voices in my head. In person, these people would never admit to doing these things that they find to be characteristic of conflicting attitudes and behaviors; even defiant and oppositional - on one hand, the people “do” realize that their acts are, at these problematic episodes, at issue: shameful, spiteful, cowardly, bold, and fearless, however intermittent and unsustainable these feats of grandiosity and delusion may be. On the other hand, the characteristically borderline personality disorder and anti-social traits of the behaviors are denied, in to indefinite extents, unto life, still to come. It’s a primary shortcoming of character such that is deemed to be one of the hallmarks of a failure, in the contexts and standards of the 12 Steps literature of recovery, self-help, and sobriety.

The voices had begun in the week, or so - in particular, leading up to September of 2012, and for the days beginning the month. I quickly became ensued in a cruel, militaristically styled, public-shaming sort of forum and by-and-large witch-hunt sort of atmosphere and thematic emblems of figurative form and composition, as far as what construed the content of the voices I was subjected to. It sounded like a dramatic, real-life exposé of network news personalities, talk show programming public figures, as well as what seemed like viable “actual” civil servant authorities - all taking jabs, by and large, offering negative conditioning, as the defining folly of man that was come to be celebrated, and practiced - myself, fairly much illiterate in this sort of conjectural drama and persona - whereby, since then, I’d become an intermittent Twitter demagogue, bordering upon a technological golden age’s banner flop-job; a court’s jester, of sorts, where abuse had become the new standard of interaction (attempts), defilements and ever-higher stacks upon brinksmanship, in displays of irreverent and unproductive flouting of the people’s common ego, and observation-participant thresholds of standards of acceptability were pushed to unexpected limits, and beyond, at times, for the fact of the matter of that, in many cases, the wins and gains were short-sighted, and cheaply won, being that men were made better, by those better than them, through the machinery at use, in these cases, and few people had much of anything of a long-standing intelligence to be gained, or admired, about these sorts of “stand-off” situations, as I’d put it, before, whereas I was more well-founded upon trying to eke out a better self, of some sort, that had peeked through the hours of neglect, abandonment, and disregard, and little by little, I embodied the better traits of men and women who treated me properly, and appropriately, regardless of the tone of voice, or authoritativeness that would be construed, from such a sort of treatment. 

That being said, the backdrop to the hysteria and paranoid establishments that had embedded themselves, with subversion at the forefront of design, and sometimes, with malicious and reckless blind-sighted goals, of a slapstick nature, as less well-intentioned, less skilled, or less educated people took the helm of controlling my mind, at times, seemingly also of that I was being observed by numerous, unspoken others, of any and all types of relations, in life, was well-provisioned, in the nearly-popular culture literature and publications, of news media, and of the blogosphere - I’d suppose that esoteric topics have their place in time, for many, or several - at least, different types of odd and obscure minds, and this moment happened to include me, as one of these monstrousity-victimized, problematic sorts - hyped up in the news articles and publications of the time, as symbolic forms and archetypes, such as the Monarch, or the butterfly - something like that. There was extensive “cult” literature, to that effect, that somewhat expounded upon the then-more “secret,” less-well disseminated information and documents (until this point in time - it was a point in time of intrigue and exposure of formerly classified programs and documentation - with the age of the internet coming of age, of sorts, and with people’s minds, in the digital world, having become curious as for solutions and answers in life, with regards to psychology and identity typology kinds of distinction; forensics, semiotics, and persona errata being valuable subjects of inquiry and discovery, for the young millennial generation). 

At some point, long story short, (I’d documented it, largely, on my Twitter and Facebook accounts “back then,” the madness and criminality that had consumed my life, post-onset of positive schizophrenic diagnostic criteria (2012) - caught up with me, and I’d failed in life, in terms of a more material consequence that had overcome me - various incidents and episodes of incarceration, probation, involuntary hospitalizations. I’d said that it constituted failure, perhaps mostly as my experience of these times spent removed from society, on account of that so much of my life was fulfilled and better accommodated in the form of technology, the internet, and through devices that I’d used, over the years. A recurrent theme of my persecutors was that I’d lived a life too rich, too young, and too familiar and relative to themselves; whereas I’d neglected them, or abandoned them, or at least the claim, thereof, whereas I was an oblivious, and criminally incompetent, “cad,” as I’m sometimes currently called. 

In any case, the issue of politics, of the lower and lesser social classes, of a proximity fallacy of presuming that being physically nearby an event supposes that it’s also more primarily significant, impactful, or important - some or one or all of these traits, about the situation; is it me? Is it us? What’s so important, somehow? Who really cares? Who really knows? Who isn’t somewhat similar, at least in some contextual expanse, of a topic subject… is this moment the defining moment of creation, itself? For some humor-infused, turn’t up “cadres” of “guys,” or “people,” (although the problematic people, for me, are commonly guys, but here and there, some women seem to have a problem with me, or about me), it appears to be the case, as that the thread about this paranoid schizophrenic positive symptoms diagnostics thing pops up, in the forefront of my mind, as that sometimes, women are known to henpeck, and be gossipy, behind my back. I’ve tried peeking, to see if people are actually talking about me - on one hand, the concept and notion of it “exists,” per se - it is a thought that I experience, in my head; or, more truthfully, rather, it’s an experience that I perceive - distinct, in formative nature, from a “thought,” in and of itself - for that it has a cognition and volition completely independent of any expenditure of energy of my own mind - quite a novel thing, for a guy who’s most commonly a loner, and introverted, as I am, yet only sometimes. It’s this sort of reality interaction that’s so commonly under observation and scrutiny - a novel thing, in and of itself, yet, at times, scarce, whereas we live in a world where human interactions are commonplace and widespread displays that we can peruse and experience, this being Los Angeles, CA, USA, a world unto it’s own, at least, in miniaturized form, if we are to recall that we are also a global society - rich in culture and imagery, and not always cheap. Remember the formative traits of good economics - there is worth in scarcity of supply, implying that a thing is valuable, for what’s offered, and for what’s being offered, for ownership, or experience - something along those lines. 

Anyways, I’ve said a lot. I don’t suppose that people would hold much of a candle for my overextended claims and statements, as far as right now. Maybe something else… something more accessible, and stuff. Maybe I’ll update, later on. 

A 12 Steps 9th Step Reflection - What am I supposed to do when people simply can’t be honest with themselves?

 Being a situational minority, [living in South Los Angeles] myself - “visually” (although only “somewhat;” I do sometimes get myself casually mistaken for being Hispanic), I get a lot of flack. 

It’s the kind of thing that would have potentially framed our collective and generalized minds, for having been part of the dragnet downward spiral that so many of us face, for having this faulty, anti-social, mistaken, misfortunate, misgiven, mistreated, maladapted, disregarded, or sometimes, we were simply just the one picked out to be bullied upon, for a long stretch of life. Many of us, in the smallest demographics, here - the 1-4%ers; the silent intelligent minds, the secretive genius, the condescending outperformer, or some sort of spiritual misfit, perhaps. 

As the fungus, for the sake of wood rot - in healing the stuff of nature that consumes us, as the tree of life, perhaps, that we, as intelligent humans are, we tend to a greater sustainability, for having made the sacrifice that signifies and represents our material loss in life - for nature to persist.

I was some sort of combination of these things, to varying degrees. My teachers might commonly have characterized me as an “A” grade mind, but a “B” grade achiever. It would be quite ostensible, as such. I was hit, as a child, and treated cruelly, at times, by my parent authority nurturing environment. Although I was young, I knew, intelligently well enough, that I was being mistreated, and that there was an unreasonable expectation of that I ought have not violated whatever boundary it was that I had pushed too far on, in acting out, or whatever the case might have been. That was back when I was around age 6, or so, when I started to come to understand that I was being held hostage, of sorts, and that life is a cruel endeavor, at times. My happiness and enjoyment was ephemeral, and sadness came as a much more common and ostensible expectation of myself

Now, at age 39, I do broadly superficial gestures towards a mindset of reserved superiority, should that card need to be pulled, in order to one-up myself, in a situation, whereas I’m narcissistic, at times, and I feel that simply accommodating others I come across, superficially and casual that it may be, I do have a somewhat limited basis and “license,” as it were - to engage with, and exchange acquaintanceship with, as far as how I might ever (or, actually) expect to get to know a great many more individuals in the localities in which I frequent. On some level, the diversity of Los Angeles, and surrounding areas, is a beautiful thing - we get a small taste of it, here and there, as children - some of us had interaction-based socialization profiles, some of us had cultural endowments, of our learning and travel experience, in our youthful developing years, and others - well, to be honest, I somewhat simply don’t quite know. There’s not much in terms of disclosure, when it came to so many people. It was bwammo; butt shittle, for sure, and bwopp dick? Plik plok. 

That’s essentially how I do some people. What else am I supposed to do? They seem to realize it, and they truly just go for it, in this slight game of alluding to a secretive shame of non-disclosure of what’s humble and slight about us; each unto ourselves, but as for myself, I feel as though I’m simply capable, in being an honest person, whereas I seem to attract a lot of pent up frustration and aggression towards me, as well as to my personal belongings, possessions, art work - even my right of way and freedom of volition, out in public. Ought I mix it up, a bit more, and get out of town, for that it’s slight localities that I frequent? I’m trying to do something with these pigeons and sparrows, though. I feel that that’s the crux of what separates and distinguishes me from these “others,” casually “majority” that they might be, for as ephemeral and unsustained that it might be, when it comes down to constancy, faith in, and loyalty to a purpose - it’s sometimes that it is quite obvious that people had been talking about me, in some group or networked small and trivial collective or establishment of people - on the other hand, I have the largest demographic of spiritually faithful compatriots that I might believe exists, for being a Christian man; perhaps here and there I entertain discovering various nuances of the faith, and demonizations, but these are simple numbers and statistics that we had all grown up with. 

Somewhere along the way, young people had decided that popular beliefs and establishments were disdainful, and averse to the common man’s wellbeing, whereas true wellness was largely characterized as a shameful “hurt” area; it hurt to have affections for others, to achieve, in the face of others who had not serendipitously found good fortune, well enough for everyone’s attention spans (how commonly does serendipity happen?). People who had achieved some good or gainful new establishment, as for their own take - were seen as the rightfully scapegoated ones. That’s how I feel, in any case. It happens to women, of a certain sort, all the time, and who likes to be incorrect, or improper? It’s a humbling thing, for many - discovering the consequence of “God’s” purpose and judgment in our lives, yet I hear confessionals all the time, and I have my own notions as to how and why these sorts of interrogative processes come to be characterized and fixed in to the mind of an unwell and unstable psychological archetype - ephemeral that it may be, it does happen quite commonly, for the great many amongst the few of us, that there are, in some instances. 

The truth is most commonly a great and celebrated thing; it’s a thing of joy, good humor, and elation - good people can’t imagine something so awful and horrid, such that it ought not have been done. At what point does the unrelenting bold one simply cease to persist in asserting dominance over differences between themselves, and a great many others? People have access to richly developed minds and intelligence forms of much of history and establishment that has been recorded in some form, whether it be visual, artistic, literary, or of the other ways and means in which we communicate and confer symbolism and meanings unto others.