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The Reason Why Men Aren’t Allowed to Cry – A Critical Essay

Posted by Rock Kitaro on February 23, 2021
Posted in: Essays, Food for Thought. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

In this essay, I’m going to talk about why it may not be a good idea for a Man to be so open and honest about his feelings…especially when it comes to Men’s Issues.

When it Comes to the Stereotype About How Men Aren’t Supposed to Cry, how we’re not suppose to expose our feelings and keep everything bottled up…the mindset was, as men, we have to suck it up and power through. You have to work for everything you get. There are no handouts. No one cares about your tears and your feelings. Now get back out there! 

I know it sounds nice and empowering for people to encourage men to fight against that stigma…to embrace their feelings, to allow themselves to be emotional and let out their pain and sorrows… 

But is that really working for men in general? Meaning, I know all that sounds nice in the spirit of equality and breaking down gender tropes. But when it comes to reality…how are Men really perceived and treated when they open up about how they honestly feel? How are they treated when they show themselves to be emotional? How do people respond when Men honestly open up about their life problems? 

Are people sympathetic? When men receive feedback and constructive criticism, is it with the same care and general softness given to a woman? Or do people just don’t give a shit?

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Top 10 Ways the Bible Changed My Life: #8. The Bible Changed My Priorities

Posted by Rock Kitaro on December 13, 2020
Posted in: About the Author, Christianity. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . 2 Comments

During my 20s, I obsessed over two main goals. One was to lose weight after getting up to 378lbs. I succeeded in getting down to 220. The other was to become a published author, and not just “any” published author. I wanted to be the best. The kind future generations had to write reports about in school.

Just recently, a friend asked me why I had given up on that goal. It’s difficult to explain without sounding like I’ve straight-up failed. It’s understandable to assume I was using the Bible as an excuse, as if to say I couldn’t hack it in the world of publishing. Because he asked a good question.

“What does reading the Bible have to do with you not succeeding as an author? It’s not like you’re doing drugs or committing a crime. Are you saying God doesn’t approve of authors or success?”

He didn’t ask those questions to offend me. I could tell he was genuinely seeking to understand. Truth is, I haven’t given up on that goal. The difference between 34-year-old Rock and 24-year-old Rock is that it’s no longer the priority. It’s still high up there. But once upon a time, nothing else mattered more.

First off, you have to understand that being a Christian is voluntary. Reading the Bible and believing in Christ’s teachings is something we “choose” to do. So as I begin, I’d like you to keep these critical scriptures in mind.

In Matthew 19:16-23. A rich young man asks Jesus, “What must I do to have eternal life?” Since he was a boy, the young man has kept the commandments. He didn’t steal. He didn’t commit murder. He honored his mother and father. So what commandment must he do to have eternal life?  

In verse 21, Jesus answered, “Sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven, and come and follow me.” 

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Has the MeToo Movement Made Men Boring? – A Critical Essay

Posted by Rock Kitaro on March 4, 2020
Posted in: Essays, News and Updates, romance. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , . 2 Comments

I suspect the only men not affected by this are those who are already in a committed relationship, men who don’t care how others see them, or men who don’t know what’s going on in the world. For the rest of us, it really is like… “What did you expect?”

Kezia Noble

Kezia Noble

If anyone “feels offended” or “feels uncomfortable” by something you did or said, it can be used as a weapon against you, regardless of intent. By now, most men who have witnessed the MeToo Movement and the Kavanaugh debacle should be aware of this. No, those situations weren’t just about feeling uncomfortable, but involved more serious allegations…but enough’s enough.

Most recent examples are Jim Carey flirting with a female interviewer, when she says, “is there anything you haven’t done.” and he says, “Just you. That’s it. We’re all done.” They went after him for that.

Lavar Ball was giving a live interview where a female interviewer says, “Alright, lets switch gears” and Lavar says, “You can switch gears with me anytime.” They went after him for that. If she never made that awkward eye gesture, this wouldn’t even be a thing.

Chris Matthews recently resigned from over 30 years of television for, among comparing a Nazi comparison, telling a GQ columnist in 2016, “why haven’t I fallen in love with you yet” as she was getting her makeup done.

We’ve seen this go on for years. If the answer is “just don’t watch the news,” the question becomes, “then why are they showing it to us in the first place?” Are there real scumbags and sexual perpetrators out there. Absolutely. I can’t stand them. The guilty ones deserve all the jail time they get. F**k em. But you know what happens when the wave of outrage gets washed over the innocent men…We adapt and overcome.

“How is it getting washed over innocent men, Rock?”  Continue Reading

The Dark Side of Sexual Tension – A Theory

Posted by Rock Kitaro on February 14, 2020
Posted in: Essays, romance. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Let me begin by saying this is just a theory…I’m open to the fact that I may be wrong. You’re more than welcome to tell me how ignorant or clueless I am. At the very least, it’ll cheer you up if you’re alone on Valentine’s Day!

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It is my opinion that we as human beings have an ability to sense how others are feeling. It’s called empathy. We can tell when someone else is happy, or sad, or when they’re afraid or angry…And I also think that without even saying a word, we can sense when another person is attracted to you. It’s an electricity that flashes at first sight and usually takes a few seconds of acclimation before we can hold a conversation without sounding like gushing children.

The Dark Side of Sexual Tension – A Theory
By Rock Kitaro
Date – February 13, 2020

But that attraction is still there until something kills it…like me saying something stupid or doing something disturbing. I think when we’re younger, this skill isn’t so refined. We have a general sense, but it can be misconstrued with someone just being nice or kind to you. It takes years or experience to hone and refine it.

But once you’ve stumbled and been through enough trial and errors, you’re good. People will try to gas-light you and say it’s all in your head, that nobody’s thinking about you or call you self-centered or narcissistic…and it may be true depending on who you are, because the skill level varies from person to person. But once you’re confident in your ability, you have to stay strong in your confidence. You have to know you’re good so when people doubt you, it doesn’t even make you mad or cause you to second-guess yourself.

You know the truth. Just keep it to yourself. Because if others find out that you know…well, there’s the reason why we have blinds and closed doors. They want their privacy. And even if they’re not so good at containing their emotions or subduing the tells that giveaway their feelings for you, they still value their privacy.

All that said…he’s my theory: Sometimes, People will mentally make an enemy and hold animosity towards another person they’re attracted to, due to a personal conflict in which it’s a problem to be attracted to that person. They either deny the attraction. Secretly entertain the idea of indulging in scenarios they never talk about. Or they self-project, as if it’s the other person who’s sending out all the signals while they themselves are innocent…almost like a defense mechanism. The self-projection is either to protect their self-esteem, their goals, their own sexuality (such as same-sex attraction), or to protect the relationship they’re already in. Maybe even more. All because they haven’t come to terms with how they feel about the other person.

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XXXIV. The Loss of 2pm & the Rise of Jay Park

Posted by Rock Kitaro on January 23, 2020
Posted in: kpop, music. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

September 2009 was a dark chapter in K-Pop history.

2pm 1

Up to this point, the worst I had seen was the breakup of DBSK when JYJ went their separate way. But DBSK had been in the game since 2004. 2pm was still relatively new, only having debuted in September of 2008.

By all accounts, 2pm was considered a top contender to be one of the best in the industry. Hailing from JYP Entertainment, they came from the same label as the immensely popular Wonder Girls. They had just released “Again in Again” in early 2009. They were appearing on variety shows and winning all kinds of fans with their charm, talent, and diversity as Korea’s first “beastly idols”.

Jay Park 2

Jay Park

Then…Jay Park, Jaebeom as he was referred to back then…Jay Park left the group. Fellow member Taecyeon once described it as the worse day of his life. So much drama happened in the span of a few months but to a fan such as myself, it’s like it all happened in an instance. And when 2pm returned to the scene, they were no longer seven members, but six. The song they released seemed all too fitting to describe, not only their anguish, but the anguish of their fans. It was called “Heartbeat”.

So let’s back up. Here’s what happened…

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The Hardest Part About Being an Author…When People think Your Imagination is Merely a Thought

Posted by Rock Kitaro on December 23, 2019
Posted in: About the Author, Food for Thought. Tagged: , , , , , , . Leave a comment

What I’m about to reveal will probably make me sound like a sociopath. Method Actors do it all the time and it seems accepted. However, for an author, because projects we work on can take months if not years…I understand why it might be difficult to maintain a relationship with us.

Cowboy Bebop 3

It’s been over a year since I’ve created a new story. In 2019, I was 32-years-old and after committing myself to books and screenplays for a decade, decided to commit myself to other aspects of adult life…like advancing in a corporate job, becoming a homeowner, and building relationships with real people. In that, 2019 was a success. I’ve progressed and accomplished everything I set out to do.

But still…Despite everything I’ve done, I confess that nothing on earth has given me greater pleasure than escaping to another world and writing down everything I see. I can’t overstate this enough. 2019 has been the longest I’ve gone without creating anything new, and while I am happy…I don’t feel fulfilled. Yes, I’ve written critical essays here and there…but fiction is where it’s at.

Everything else just seems ephemeral. I know that one day I will die and memories of me will fade. I’m just a tenant on this earth. The condo I bought will belong to someone else. My money and possessions will be given to someone else or discarded. And if last summer has taught me anything when a co-worker took his own life…people’s perception of who you are, is pretty much whatever they want it to be, regardless if it’s true. Continue Reading

An Interesting Confession – Are People Really Are Afraid of Me?

Posted by Rock Kitaro on December 3, 2019
Posted in: About the Author, Food for Thought, News and Updates. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

When heinous crimes are committed by men who look like me…I understand.

Beast

To begin, I have to set a baseline in the opinion that as human beings, I believe we all possess the power of empathy. It’s one of our instincts where we can sense how another person is feeling. Whether they’re happy or sad. Worried or excited. But more than just emotions, we can also sense when someone’s happy to see us. Whether they’re attracted to us. Whether they got something against us, like resentment or some unspoken animosity or envy.

Some of us are better than others. Some of us ignore this ability. And some of us go to great lengths to deny what they’re sensing to relieve themselves of some form of responsibility, (ie…claiming they didn’t know or saying they didn’t want to assume anything).

Aside from this ability, we’re also faced with the obstacle of doubt. Meaning, even when you sense something’s wrong, or someone’s feeling a type of way…the disbelief of others takes it toll. Not to mention people will lie to your face about it. There’s the practice of gas-lighting where we’re sometimes made to believe it’s all in our head, that we’re making something out of nothing, or that we’re just projecting. And sometimes they’re right.

Empathy is a skill that takes years to hone and refine. It can be sharpened based on our experience with people, our trials and errors. And not just you and your circle of friends, but also people who come from all walks of life, different backgrounds, races, gender, and culture. And even when you acquire this skill, it also takes time and experience to trust it.

When I was a kid called “sensitive” and they were right. I was extremely sensitive and not in just the “hurt my feelings” kind of way…I could sense or detect how the people around me felt. They didn’t need to say anything. I just felt it. Which brings me to the point of this topic…

Last week, I came across a tragic article where a man, recently paroled, was charged with killing an innocent college student in Chicago. Basically, this dude tried to cat-call her, she ignored him while trying to walk to her car but this asshole went and got mad for being ignored. He put her in a headlock, raped, and killed her. This poor girl’s body was found by her sisters and campus security. The parents, being good Christians, put out a message of forgiveness.

But the killer…his appearance perpetuates a stereotype. This man was big, tall, and black. I’m big, tall, and black. Thus…I understand why people are afraid of people like me. You can read the article to find out the full details. But in my dismay, I wrote the following comment:

“This is one of the reasons why I don’t blame people, especially women, when it comes to being afraid of men like me…big, black, obviously stronger than most. You try to live by example to show others that we’re not all the same and you can be cool and relax around people like me…but then stuff like this happens on a seemingly regular basis. And then we wonder why women cross the street just to avoid men like me. Or why women clutch to their boyfriends just a little bit tighter when I walk by. Or the sound of doors locking when I’m approaching. I’m sorry for the family of the victim. It sounds like she did everything she was supposed to do and still got killed anyway. Thanks to men who look like me.” Continue Reading

XXVIII. Post-Graduation Blues, Yoko Kanno and Ghost in the Shell

Posted by Rock Kitaro on November 1, 2019
Posted in: About the Author, kpop. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

In May of 2009, I had just graduated, just got fired, and was on the verge of starting over by moving back in with my parents. To me, that would have been failure. Brace yourself…a lot of personal revelations in this one.

Cowboy Bebop 3

In the last chapter, you saw my elation, such triumph and joy at the debut of 2NE1. But by June 1st, 2009…my life wasn’t going so great. In March, I was 22 and had just graduated from a tumultuous four years of film school and landed a job with an up-and-coming start-up company. Haha, so without going into so many details, turns out this company was run by gamblers and con-artists. I’m not lying.

In the beginning, I thought everyone was so cool and everything ran like a well-oiled machine. I was hired as a video editor and a content producer. But one thing led to another and I eventually learned that one of my bosses wasn’t who he said he was. The man claimed to be one of the founders of Myspace. He was eventually fired, and my new boss (the gambler) started writing me bad checks that would bounce.

In May of 2009, I flew to Colorado to attend my cousin’s graduation and while there, my boss called me over the phone and fired me, accusing me of theft. I’m no thief. He only fired me because I threatened to file a lawsuit against him for writing bad checks.

And so…in June of 2009 for the first time since I was 16, I was without a job. My future seemed uncertain. I barely had enough to pay one more month of rent and that was it. These were sad days, but I’m not the type to sit on my thumbs and say, “whatever happens, happens.” In the end, I had made up my mind to leave Florida, pack up what I could, and move back into my parent’s house in Georgia in July. Basically, to start all over.

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This decision wasn’t easy. As a young man full of pride, moving back into my parent’s house was like admitting defeat, that I couldn’t cut it in the real world on my own. But pragmatically, it was the best decision. Moving back in with my parents would allow me to get another job, save up without paying rent, and then I could head out to Los Angeles and pursue a career as a screenwriter. This was my thinking.

With my mind made up, I spent most of June 2009…writing. Every day, I’d wake up and go to my school’s library to write. And the music that got me through these tough times was none other than a lesser known Japanese composer who goes by the name of Yoko Kanno.

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Gladys Vandelay – For the Living (Short Story)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on October 23, 2019
Posted in: Original Stories, Paramour Letters. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Anna Marie and Gladys are terrorists on the run…but its not the government they fear. They betrayed a deadly society of feminists. The Swords of St. Catherine have come for payback.

For the Living 1

Lightning from Final Fantasy XIII

 

I opened my eyes to a gray ceiling fan with cracks in the wood. Everything looked old, as if the house was taken straight from a post-civil war documentary. The windows were milky and stained. The dresser looked like a device for splinters. My bed was twin size with a rusty iron headboard. Even my pillow was stuffed with real feathers. I could feel the stems pricking through the pillowcase, scratching at my neck.

My bullet wounds were patched up. Someone had sewn me shut and dressed me in a faded pink nightgown. There was a table on the other side of the room with a pitcher and two tin cups. I was thirsty like you wouldn’t believe, so I got up.

Anyone wondering if I was awake wouldn’t have to wonder long. I was so weak. My bones felt brittle. As soon as I tried to stand, I crumbled to the floor with this wooden crash that probably sounded much louder than it was. The problem was, I couldn’t hear anyone else. I was on the second floor and sound carried.

Not wanting to break anything, I hugged the wall and hobbled to the table like an old woman. There was nothing in the pitcher. I expected water.

Timed perfectly with my groan was a howling wind that rustled through the last leaves of a withering tree just outside my window. And through the branches, I saw the distant figure of Anna Marie all dressed in black. She was deep in the woods and her long hair shrouded her face, but I knew it was her. I grabbed sheets from the bed, wrapped up, and left.

The Perennial War of Paramours
Gladys Vandelay – For the Living
By Rock Kitaro

…

In the downstairs kitchen was a family of African-Americans. A mother, a father, and three toddlers. They were all so quiet as fuck that it creeped me out. I could sense the feeling was mutual. They stared like I was a ghost wandering the halls. No one said anything, not even so much as a greeting.

Finally, I just shuffled over to their breakfast table and grabbed about four strips of bacon. “Thank you.” I whispered before scurrying off. But of course, my bed sheets got caught on the crease in the floorboard. I tripped, scraping my knees and the children laughed. I whipped around to see which ones, but only caught the tail end of the mother snapping her fingers at them.

“Who are you people?” I asked.

“The owners of the house you’re staying in.” the father told me.

“I don’t suppose you have a name?”

“Just call me the caretaker.”

I squinted at him. “Did you put me in this nightgown?”

The mother rolled her neck with spiked brows, a matrimonial warning, not worth ignoring. So I threw up my hands and whispered, “Sorry.” Continue Reading

Anna Marie – The Cult (Short Story)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 6, 2019
Posted in: Original Stories, Paramour Letters. Tagged: , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

The Andalusian recalls how she was recruited by the Swords of St. Catherine, a deadly society of underground feminists. She used to be carefree and spirited. Living life to the fullest. But when she kills her would-be rapist, everything changes.

The Cult

Anna Marie – The Cult
By Rock Kitaro

My life begins every time he dies and I’m getting sick of it. I thought he was dead. I thought I had killed him. This time I know he’s not coming back. I suppose the only solace stems from the fact that he finally learned the truth. The truth is, I loved him. I’ll always love him. That’s all there is to it.

I don’t want everyone to know all about my family upbringing or whatever. It’s nobody’s business. So I’m going to skip all that.

I met Marcus in my early twenties. We worked together in the same building, at the same company, an up-and-coming media outlet focusing on entertainment. He was a journalist writing op-ed pieces on the ever-changing culture, while I made my bones on the forecast projections of upcoming album and box office sales. I heard he gave me credit for how much I changed him, inspiring him to grow. I suppose I should do the same.

…

I dunno… Marcus was really shitty at small talk. I think our first conversation was about God. That’s how deep and straight to the point he was. It was kind of annoying at first. I thought it was creepy and invasive. I was like, “who the hell are you that I should tell you all these deep and personal things?”

But after a while, I dunno. It kinda grew on me. I found myself thinking about crap I never would’ve even considered.

He talked about stuff like North Korea or the slave trade in Africa that still persists to this day. And when he spoke, he was so full of passion. Like, he honestly cared, as if he had a family member there or some stake in the matter. It was a spectacle, actually. Always so dramatic and full of histrionics. Caught myself smiling a couple of times. He’d notice, turn and blush. If black people could blush. Then he’d ask for my opinion. I wouldn’t have one. I just enjoyed listening. But he encouraged me to think. He was in my head. That’s how the bastard got me.

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