The Valentine

Roses are red and some are black,

But some are yellow too.

I prefer the white ones with a purple flower in the middle

As if right on cue-

Standing out in some way of course

Just because I always do.

-Nichole Bergstand

Understanding and Recognizing Source Validity

With so much information available almost instantaneously, it has become more important than ever to analyze and check your sources for validity.  Whether you are reading a political argument or searching for an article for a research paper, there are a few key things to remember about your sources.

There are several “signs” that may act as queues to the reader that a source is not reliable:

·         The source or article is heavily biased

·         The author uses descriptions that are emotionally charged or derogatory

·         The author is unqualified to remark on the topic

·         The author’s work is unfocused or shifts viewpoints

·         The source lacks scientific evidence to support its views or doesn’t include a resource page

There are several “signs” that may act as queues to the reader that a source is reliable:

·         The authors views are not emotionally charged, and remain focused

·         The authors work is based on valued scientific evidence, or includes a resource page

·         The author stays on topic and the work is focused

·         The authors work is balanced and may include viewpoints on opposing arguments when appropriate                                                                                                                              

Perdue University: online writing lab-resource checking

https://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/558/1/    (for additional information and resources)

How Many Hours Have Passed?

I see you pretending not to watch me, and I know that you are wondering who I am.

I am always scared, in fact, I am terrified.  The more I progress and the farther I go, the sooner everything that I have will come to an end.  People believe that friendships and love fill feelings of loneliness, but the truth is that, fear is the only cause to it.  Your existence is so far beyond their grasp, that they will never care to know you; you must learn to survive on your own.

                Fear will begin to consume you during your wakeful dreaming slumber, until it grasps you in your sleep, reminding you of the frivolous glowing place.

                Some nights I know that you cry violently, while other nights you lie in your bed trying to force thoughts tirelessly out of your mind; the present is far more painful than the past.  Against all odds though, you have made it and survived.   

                I don’t like women.  I am a fearsome man with the intellect, power, and motivation to devour anything in my path.  Women never seem to possess this type of strength because they are unable to celebrate victoriously except in dainty passiveness.  How many more heroes would there be if women were allowed to tell their stories with pride.  Men and women both know that we are responsible for shackling ourselves to the past because today we are all free.  But, I don’t like men either.

                As I grasp the red cotton that is the protective layer between me and all that consumes me, I realize that the blanket isn’t an all-consuming mass who absorbs and reflects my imperfect radiation, spinning it back into the universe like a shield.  Suddenly I feel that I am a real human, and I rip the blanket from my body and lie in silence, waiting for the realization to pass and oblivion to set in; the world is all consuming, and the world is consumed by it all.

                But as I lie in the darkness, all that haunts me is illuminated by shadows and lost dreams of love.  Not the kind you find buried in a cedar chest, with crystal vases and dried petals carefully arranged as if to encapsulate time and space itself, but just a dream; a unique and justifiable dream.  As if on cue, you stop me to ask why I must demand so much.

                “Daydreaming is wasteful!  If you want to be respected, then you must find the resources to change yourself when you have nothing, and enjoy the destructive long journey, while searching for beauty.  As I look at you by the way, I am painfully reminded of myself; but, it is you who are crazy, and not I.”

                Love: one syllable and so shallow a word beyond the comprehension of too many people that is passed back and forth like a tarnished penny, one person gives to another, and then disposed of without a thought.  Everyone wants love, but only certain types of love that always come with a price tag or time limit.  I would personally rather have a quarter, but some pennies hold value too.

                But as I stare at my own reflection, I see a woman ten years older than I, and she is staring back at me shaking her head and consulting the time.  It seems that there is a ray traveling between us, strong and unwavering in my eyes and consistent in yours.  How do you not stare into complete darkness when you realize that I am the moth when you are the all-consuming flame?

                I sat last week when I was distraught in my bed and I realized (again) that God must be real.  The golden pine cone continued to float freely in front of me, but fearing for my own sanity, I didn’t dare reach out to it; I still don’t, and I decided (again) that God must not be real.  Of course I would be a fool if I didn’t believe He was real (so then maybe He is).

                That doesn’t mean however that I will be fairer to you in passing, or care about you any less if it’s worthwhile.  These things are crucial aspects of the time we have together.

                When I saw you watching me, I realized that you wondered who I am. None of this answers the question, but as the hours tick by, I realize that I don’t know how many have passed.

Neurology Behind the Use of Anti-psychotic Medications on a HealthyBrain

Anti-psychotic medications are used to reduce symptoms in patients with psychotic disorders, and are thought to help create mood stability in patients who suffer from mood disorders as well.

The biology of psychosis, particularly schizophrenia, is often composed of an excess of the mood enhancing neurotransmitter dopamine.  Anti-psychotic medications are dopamine inhibitors, and are thought to reduce the overproduction of this important chemical allowing the brains chemistry to become more balanced.  Over time and as the medications are continued, social and personal functioning can improve dramatically. Unfortunately side -effects overwhelm the mentally ill community who often lack the personal and emotional support necessary to thrive. 

Parkonnsons disease on the other hand is a neurological disorder that usually affects elderly individuals, and is characterized by uncontrollable tremors, movement, slurring, and stiff muscles.  This neurological disease is caused by dopamine producing neurons that die over time, in turn making the brain less capable of producing the important neurotransmitter.

Interestingly but still related, many severely mentally ill patients are often restless and complain about their symptoms of anxiety.  I have seen many young people in hospitals medicated to the point of slurring and so dysfunctional that normal activities are severely impaired.  In every case that I witnessed involving these symptoms, the illness was to blame and, the medications were rarely questioned except to find a better combination to treat the symptoms that they were causing.

In patients with an anti-psychotic medication induced disorder called akethesia, marked by constant movement, parkonnsonss-like symptoms, and mental confusion, debilitation and suicide are not uncommon results.  I personally believe that the existence of this neurological issue is under-recognized, under-reported, and is the cause of long-term debilitation in some patients with difficult-to-treat symptoms that mirror psychosis, as the anti-psychotic medications continue to pull dopamine from a brain that was never lacking it in the first place. 

  It is inevitable that if you pull dopamine from a healthy brain, neurological dysfunction will result.

Sexuality Through A Looking Glass

In classical Greek literature, symbolic representations of love were used to explain illogical love attractions.  While often made to look like an unpredictable illness, God(s) were thought to have been responsible for pairing deep romantic relationships that nearly always ended in destruction.  

Thousands of years later when science began planting his seeds into the laws of mainstream civilization a renowned psychiatrist, Dr. Sigmund Freud, created a form of therapy called psychoanalysis.  His practice was rooted within a theory that unconscious sexual desires thought to be a part of the subconscious desires, would manifest as emotional dysfunctions if they were left unfulfilled; the term Freud coined to describe the emotional turmoil in women was known as neurosis and some women today are still referred to as being "neurotic" in nature. 

Most of us would agree that since those confusing historical time periods, science has made bounding leaps in sex research and behavior that are far more based in reality.  For some reason, however, we have all been asked to question our mainstream sexual practices and fear for our own personal demise.  

-Nichole Bergstrand-

To be defined

People make a choice to suffer because they do not want to be defined by a label.  Despite attempts to fight for a positive image, an inability to keep the secret creates a new but more destructive image.  It can be assumed that we all go seeking in search of answers to the whole, only to find that we continue to be labeled for the answers that we seek.  Of course, whether we are wrong or right will go unnoticed.  

-Nichole Bergstrand-

The Moon Sings Her lullaby-children's story

Every night the moon comes out to sing her lullaby’s through the lands.

 She sings to the lambs in the tall grass, wishing them well to the farmer’s that pass a lending hand to the lambs at last... 

The moon sings in tune her infinite task. 

Next, the moon sings her lullaby’s to the great pines of the land.

Singing to the forest trees, the moon cannot forget about these that give the oxygen that we breathe, their scent forever lingering in the breeze...

And as the hour begins to grow late, she sings her song to the sea’s and the lakes of those who have retired under the waters which make, her reflections glow and her beauty innate...

And she sings...

Of course she must not forget the task, of singing her lullaby to those that pass the streets of those still up in mass, lingering together and avoiding the shadows in the light that she casts. 

    

She even sings in tune for those who are up still howling at the moon.

But for all the children of the land, alone she will not dare to stand and, asking the stars to join in tune for the song that you can understand:

"Dear children in the night sleep peacefully tonight, dream upon the stars which light tomorrow and your future, I will always keep you in sight."

And as the children continued to dream the morning sun began to gleam, over the hills and across the streams...

 For now it is time for the moon to dream.

"Goodnight," says the moon.  "I wish you well and will see you soon!"

-Nichole Bergstrand