I Return...

Well I have finally retrieved my newly fixed laptop so I can update my blog again. However, I will be off next week, I am taking the time off from writing to make some extra money on the side. I should be back by Thursday.

I wonder sometimes about blame. Is it even necessary? It occurs to me that blame is something we assign so what if we just stopped? I am not advocating that it fix problems and it could create new issues. But is seems like if every individual held themselves accountable it would smooth things out. What do I know? I can't get my own shit together.  Why do I give so much advice that I can't follow myself? Life isn't always what you think it should be.

Computer Issues

Should be back regularly by the weekend.

Break

Just a quick update, I will return to my regular schedule on Monday, and for now please enjoy the break.

2-14-13

For today,
I will simply say,
Happy Valentines Day.
Now go away...

Feelin' It

It takes me awhile to get into the zone. Once I do it is game over for whatever goal I am tackling.

She was the most beautiful girls I had ever seen in my life. Her flowing golden hair danced just off the top of her flawless alabaster shoulder. She was wearing these squarish black framed glasses that tied together her round face beautifully. And her smile, oh lord her smile, it was as if all life came into existence because of her smile. In a room of thirty students it was simply her, and her alone that I couldn't keep my eyes off. If I were a fourteenth century painter looking for a model of an angel she would've been it. I should have bent over backward to show her that I was interested. But I was seventeen and not old enough to understand the difference between love and lust. She wasn't looking for a single use guy, she was looking for a partner. I have never been good at dating, I am brash, rude, and sarcastic  A terrible recipe for a potential partner.

I Have No Idea What I am Doing

As if it wasn't obvious by now, I have very little (if any) idea what I am doing most days. Some days the words flow from me like a geyser. And still other days the well runs completely dry. Things have been getting better lately as I have increased my reading/writing time every day. But damn it gets annoying on some of those slow days.

My Mistakes

So I came to the realization a few years ago but I put off writing about it for a bit. I think I am finally ready to put this into my journal.  I am the only person to blame for all the mistakes made in my life. Some of you might be shocked to hear me say this and still others are wondering why it took my twenty something years to figure it out. And I am willing to admit that I have been blaming my failures on other people for a long time. I still don't fell like I should have many regrets. I learned from this things that I screwed up and I will use that wisdom to guide me going forward. I did but a few bridges that would be nice to have available to me, nut since I torched them I have to live with that decision. It is time for Ben to place the responsibility on how he turned out on Ben. I am somewhat ashamed that it took me this long to figure this out.

Life is simple, make choices and don't look back live with the consequences.

Poetry Break

I have been focusing on poems here lately and I decided to take today off to write about something else. I have no idea what that is going to be yet but I am working on it now.

Poetry 3

Show me the truth in you eyes,
Along the lines of hope and faith,
Seeking perfection in everything you did,
I saw it all from my vantage point above Earth,
All knowing and yet in complete disbelief about it,
Even with the power I process I can't see it,
And you could and did all along,
Which one of us is the deity?

Poetry 2

Why do I ask why?
Where am I going?
Is it worth it?
When is it my time?
Was it my fault?
Is she okay?
Did I break her heart?
Is this normal?
What is normal?
Do I know you?
Am I the one to blame?
Is that a threat?
Was that a mistake?
Am I real?
Should I leave?
Could I move away?
Would she miss me?
Do I need this?
Should I simplify my life?
Could I live without a computer?
Would I be ready if the world ended?
Why do I dream?
Why did I lie?
Why can't I sing?
Why am I not rich?
What is the meaning of life?
What is a soul?
What time should I get up?
Should I sleep in?
Do I sound crazy?


(I recorded almost ever question I asked myself one random day. These are in no particular order and I think I might edit that a bit later.)

Amen

Wasn't the choice to live the life or give up? It is never that simple. We live in a world that is itself grey. The options are many and sometimes difficult to distinguish among. What happened to doors 1, 2, or 3? Now the number is nearly infinite. I sometimes feel like the choices themselves have become the prison. It is almost as if they gave us this many options to keep us occupied. It is a damn fine strategy if I may say so. What better way to bury a person that to do it with the illusion of choices? The prison is then in the mind of the individual and not made of actual stone. The digital age was supposed to bring new freedom not admonish it outright.

I am a hypocrite. I reap the full bounty of this world we live in on a daily basis.

Poetry 1

Shattered face,
No reflection,
Set souls aside,
Can't see,
Absolution,
Tired,
Tired,
Weary and goes on,
Ten thousand eyes,
Beset on all sides,
Siege of my soul,
Can I be me?,
Worlds apart,
Black marks,
Show me,
Bruised ego,

Defeated,
Spiritual revolution,
Amen,
New face,
See me,
Return from Grace,

Training

If it wasn't obvious by this point I have no formal training in prose. I mostly cobble together thoughts, dreams, and rants into type form as a means of dealing with life. I do think I would like it very much to be a writer one day. And by that I mean to support myself totally just by writing. If it never happens then that would be okay as well. I would like to hear from others about what and why they write so don't hesitate to contact me.

I have decided that with my time in the dating pool that dating for looks is foolish. I feel like I wasted too much time going for people that I considered 'good looking.' And if it was painfully obvious to everyone else but me then I am the fool. It is so very much more important to date someone based on mutual interest and hobbies. Now I need to figure out where to meet single women who like to write and read.

When I was in school I used to write about Poe a lot. I wanted to write like him and tried to model my life after his (not my best idea.) The funny part is that all that 'dark' writing these days would get a young person in trouble.

Total Bull

One critically important part of the future is often and foolishly overlooked by the youth of America. While there is no doubt in my mind that the future is important, the severity of the subject has only just begun to settle with my young mind. On the subject the fiscal aspect of the future is insanely important. Being then the financial part of my future is the foolishly important aspect of my critically important future. Herein lies the subject of this essay, the importance of money.

Savings have been revealed to me as the path of enlightenment. As interest is paid, the amount of money in said account increases, transversely increasing the amount of interest paid. Giving me, the saver, further incentive to climb the graduated interest ladder. This fiscal system, in theory works well toward my retirement. A subject many young minds fail to grasp but probably should.

However, this alone is not enough. Savings by its lonesome may not grant financial freedom in the twilight of my life. As I begin to understand this, I further myself as a human being. With what many would say is a doomed Social Security system, it may become more then necessary to have personal preparations in place for the rising generation, myself included, to retire on.

This knowledge revealed to me the importance of investments. In addition to 401K’s, IRAs and bonds, which are all good ideas, when saving over an elongated period of time. Like savings accounts, all of these items help to further my financial stability later on in life. My understanding goes beyond the surface of savings. Considering taxation and bank penalties, it can become a guess and check for the untrained mind. I understand that taxation is graduated, or based on the amount of money. So ROTH IRA’s are more favorable to traditional IRA’s, because taxes paid on the money paid in will seemingly amount to far less then the taxes paid on all the money withdrawn. These are just my thoughts of course.

I, even in my youth, understand the importance of retirement. The need to begin saving for it now and the better future it will bring for my future spouse and myself. I feel myself steps ahead and far better prepared for the future because I understand the necessity of the subject and have already take steps toward it. With rising prescription drug costs, taxes, and general living expenses, couple with what some say is a doomed Social Security system, the next generation may find it important to begin saving now.

I comprehend the problem and have thus already begun, in the teen aged years of my life, to prepare for retirement and my future in general. As understanding is the key to enlightenment, I feel all that much more enlightened about how to be successful in the maturity of my life. Leaving me with only smooth sailing far ahead of the pack, who sadly enough may begin to experience the rough waters ahead. 

9-2-2008

9-2-08

Why do we struggle to see what is gong own past our own slice of life? Why is it so hard to grasp the big picture? I once asked a friend why he was in college and studying engineering. His response set me back a bit. The future. That was his reply, for the future. I had to hear him elaborate on this answer. He pointed out that his ultimate goal was to be happy. He foresaw the best way to do this was to have a wife and two point five kids. Live in the two story, white picket, suburban house. That would make him truly and completely happy. And being an engineer would provide him the amount of income needed to supply these dreams. Plus he kind of dug engineering so it wouldn't be so bad to do it everyday. I sat in silence and mused on his answer for sometime. I still think about it to this very day. I share his ultimate goal. To be happy and have the wife, the kids, and the house. I am sure the majority of people do share this dream. Where I am off set is in the how to gain these things. As you may know I took one look at college and disagreed and despite that observation, even gave the monster a try. It wasn't right and it never felt so. I also hate the idea of majoring in something that I kind of dig. If I am going to do something for the next forty or so years, I better damn love it. I never found anything like that. Nothing I do now or have ever done gives me an impression that I could do it for that many years. Now I know my friend is not just settling for engineering, he may have down played it in his statements, but he loves that stuff. I can see it in his eyes when he talks about his classes. Thats awesome for him. He is great and I am glad things worked out for him. However, I cannot help but wonder why my life is not falling into place as well as others seem to be. I want to believe that He has a plan for everyone, I truly do. It's is just hard to watch everyone else putting the pieces together, while I can't even find half of the pieces of my own life puzzle.

The Poetry:

Mistakes

beat

I made none

beat

Regrets

beat

I have none

beat

Things I can't forget

beat

I should hold dear

beat

Nights I can't remember

beat

the lessons I learned

beat

Days I wish I'd died

beat

Days I loved life

beat

When I lied

beat

When she cheated on me

beat

When she cried

beat

She deserved to be hurt

beat

She did it to herself

beat

I shouldn't be so mean

beat

I miss it all

beat

the drama

beat

the love

beat the tears

beat

I miss the tears the most

beat

beat

end...

I am not sure what that is. The way I heat that is as if each line is read between the extremely slow beat of a heart. I hope you got the same message from it all, that I did. If not, it is okay. Everyone reads and interprets poetry in their own special way.

I have used this gift to my advantage before. I have a special ability to craft sentences that are devastating. I know because I destroyed four lives. This one sets us all the way back to my Senior year of high school. I was dating a beautiful brunette at the time. She was of course a Sophomore, and two years younger then yours truly. I truly was happy and I could not have asked for a better girl to go through a hectic year like that with. She stood by me through it all. As I was struggling to pick a school plus working a part time job, and still partying with my friends. I used her as my rock, she was always strong and firm when I needed her to be. We used to talk on the phone every night before bed. It was great. When I decided not to go to prom, she supported my decision. Even though I could see that she really wanted to go. We did something else really special that night instead. Of course, because I am a guy, I fucked it up. It happened like this, there a hot blonde who sat next to me in one of my classes. This blonde is special to me because I had been lusting after her since the eighth grade. I had never stood a chance until one day in class she looked right at me and asked if she could borrow my notes from the class. I didn't think anything about handing over my entire notebook. I failed to remember that my personal journal was in the notebook. The personal journal I was writing that year was for creative writing class and was a stream on conscience piece. Meaning that during certain spans I would write every thought I had down. Even the random thoughts and the horny thoughts as well. I also failed to remember that there were three instances where I described in detail my attraction to this blonde, I had no chance with. I didn't realize the weapon I had handed this beautiful blonde that day. It finally hit me when she handed my binder back two days later. She had gone through my personal journal and read everything I had written and where she had thoughts about my words she interjected her own words. As it turns out she was a closet writer. Well one thing led to another and we started writing notes back in forth. My blonde girl was dating a preppy blonde boy named Alex, and she often wrote that she wanted to end it with him. Well we started to have more and more of a relationship, talking on the phone until late hours and such.

It all came to a head on a Sunday night. My blonde called to say that she was dumping her boy and that we needed to talk about it. So she came over and was sitting on my bed and we were talking about it. I made my intentions to date her clear. She of course rejected this. I told her I would dump my girlfriend and she told me that was not gong to happen. So I wrote the most beautiful love letter ever constructed. I used all on my best words and turned amazing phrases. I passed to the blonde in class and she loved it. I had to get rid of my girlfriend that night. That night I took my gorgeous brunette girl to her favorite restaurant and as we shared her favorite dessert she told me that she loved me.

And I dumped her. Stupid move I know. She was dumb struck, I told her it was because I didn't use the word love and that because she did I couldn't see her any more. That was all a total load of crap and a damn lie. She cried as I drove her home, we haven't spoken since. Now that I was free I called my blonde and told her I was coming over, she told me it was cool. When I go to her house I told her about what I had just done and she looked really upset. She explained that the person she fell for was the man who wrote the beautiful things in the love letter, not the jackass who just dumped his girlfriend like I did. I left her house that night and I haven't spoken to her since either.

As I sit here and read my story I realize a few truths. Paramount among them is that the dark haired Sophomore I dumped may have the best thing that ever happened to me. If things had not ended like that we would almost certainly still be together. Another thought that occurs to me is that I used my gift as a writer to make someone who most likely had no intimate feelings for me, have those same feelings. This could never have worked out. I know our relationship would have failed, as the guy romantic guy she fell for did not then exist. I say that because with maturity I hope to one day evolve into that guy. Anyways, I also realize that I may have ruined Alex's life, seeing as I pushed our blonde heroine toward breaking up with him. This one was forgiven by Alex himself a few months back. HE is certain that their relationship was failing. His words offered me no comfort in what I had done whatsoever. The last lesson I derive form this is that I did not handle things well with either young woman. Trying to make someone love you is stupid and leaving what may have been the love of my life for something that was fake was a terrible mistake.

The light does shine at the end for me. I am still young and I am a huge believer in learning form your past. I draw lessons from this series of events and will avoid making the same mistakes twice.

Now I am at peace again.

8-29-2008

Theres something about a girl in white. Makes me want to drive through West Virginia in a Cadillac. It's a strange feeling. I can't explain it. Anyway on with life. Something strange happens to me whenever I get around people I can not stand. I get a sudden urge to punch someone. Weird, I bet no one else feels that way. As it turns out too much Caffeine is wicked bad for you. The energy kick in the pants you get wares out out and you crash, big time. I have a daydream about her, it comes around whenever I get bored at work. It comes on when I am doing something arbitrary and routine. I always find myself running out to get her. It's strange because I don't feel that strongly about her anymore. At least I don't think I do. However, I am a big believer in the theory that dreams and daydreams are the sub conscience mind trying to solve a difficult problem. I cannot for the life of me figure out what I am trying to figure out. Perhaps it is all metaphorical, and it may not even have anything to do with her. I do not know what she could be symbolic of, maybe a heart breaking bitch. Oh wait, that isn't a symbol at all that is what she is.

While I am problem solving maybe I can try to figure out why relationships scare the shit out of me and why I run away from them. I think that solving that may require some sort of specialized training and maybe a degree or three. You see what I did there? You thought I was going for a degree or two, but I totally changed it up on you. I am crafty like that. If you have not guessed by now I am writing my stream of conscience and I have to say tonight is some freaking weird shit. I have no idea why I am such a jerk. Actually most people consider me an asshole. I can live with that, most people don't live up to my standards of them. I know I should lower my standards but damn it. I lost that train of thought. I was going somewhere witty and clever but I can't remember. In honor of tonight's strange ideas, I am getting to the poetry early.

Inspiration

I draw on

on my inspiration

ideas flood my

my head when I tap

when I tap in

words flow forth from

forth from my fingers

rolling on

on out of me

and forth for the world

for the world to read

and I draw more and more

from my inspiration

my muse if you will

it isn't reading

it isn't writing

it my love for you

that inspires me

That is a free form mess and I know it. Expect to see that poem resurface at a later time and in a new way. I will be working on it. And just to be clear there is no actual person who I muse. There have been in the past but none currently. In the tradition I started last night, here is the section where I tell an old memory.

She had the most beautiful blue eyes. When I stared into them it wasn't like I was looking into her soul. It was like a gate way to my own soul. For some odd reason looking into her eyes always forced me into introspection. It wasn't bad either, it was the good kind of self searching that I could do all day long. The reason why I didn't kiss her that night on her parents porch had little to do with not wanting to. I really wanted to. I was not scared either, I knew she wanted it bad. I just stared into her eyes and saw myself and didn't want it to ever end. I could have stood there even longer. I looked deep into my own being and found a deep passion for this girl. It was the most amazing experience of my life.

Thinking about her eyes also triggers another memory I have, this one from my short time in college. This one had some gorgeous green eyes. She was way out of my league and how we ended up together is still a mystery to me. I don't mean she was out of my league romantically, I mean her family had more money then I will ever earn in my entire life. Or ten entire lives for that matter. I think what brought us to each other was understanding. Let's be honest, most college students are not looking for a long term relationship. She was looking for the future, I don't think I was a bad prospect. What cut us short was a frat brother friend of mine who was looking for a quick score. The man drove a very big wedge between her and myself so he could get off one night when she was on the rebound. However, karma is a tricky mistress. I only learned recently that she was impregnated that night. They are getting married this spring and they have a two year old daughter. I was invited to the wedding. I have mixed feelings about going. I mean I severed the ties with my old frat friends and burned that bridge so completely that I could never go back even if I wanted too. But I do miss her and I do genuinely care about her life. I would love to see her again and meet their kid. If that little girl is anything like her mother, she going to be awesome.

I will leave it there for tonight. I have to work early in the morning. Sorry to bare the bad news but I will be writing only a half entry on Sunday. I have a busy day and an early Monday. Giving you guys a heads up so no ones feelings get hurt.

“But in the end, I want to thank you. Because you made me that much stronger.”

Let it roll off your back children.

8-28-2008

Storming through the party like my name was unknown. As if to say I have no regrets and no chance of tomorrow. There's an interesting thought, what would I do if I knew I wouldn't see the next day. The most obvious answers are things like sky dive and bungee jump. Or maybe get really crazy and base jump. I don't really know and it's sort of morbid to think about it. Or maybe being aware of ones own mortality is a good thing. There are always two sides to every thought. Certainly most people can see things differently then me. I am always in the minority about stuff like this.

Some days are just harder then others. It doesn't help when a random song on the radio makes you think of her. I hate when I think about her. I still to this day can not shake these demons out of my head about how and why thing went down like they did. I was so certainly the one to blame. Wasn't she the one who used the “l” word after only a few short weeks and then fumed when I rebuffed the word and refused to use it. I have never liked how much importance people put into that word. It will destroy your life if your not careful. Then on the flip side, it can be the single greatest emotion you will ever experience. Things like this bug me. I still don't understand why shit in life has to be one way or another. It's either the greatest thing ever or the worst. Where the fuck is the gray area? Why don't I ever have “gray” things happen to me. Maybe it's because I have my head screwed on so tight and I never let my head into the clouds. Perhaps, by chance I am to down to Earth.

I never lay awake and ponder shit like I used to, the Ambien takes care of that. I miss all the great thoughts I used to have, but I love getting the right amount of sleep, it's a win/lose thing. I also never dream any more, I don't know if that's a byproduct of the pills or whatnot. It's really disturbs me that there are no dreams. It's like I fall asleep and then I wake up. Word.

I need to let this stuff come out, it does me no justice to keep these words jumbled up in my head. Then they just rattle around in there until a big mess of thoughts give me a migraine. I hate that. I need to express these thoughts before they kill me. Literally kill me, the link between excessive aspirin and ulcers is proven and what do you take to get rid of headache?

Most stuff people do or say, doesn't bother me. I usually let shit roll right off my back and onto the ground. I do not rattle easily, I mean someone really has to work to get me shook up. Some people try but I just laugh at how hard they work just to try and piss me off.

If I Could Go Back In Time:

If I could go back in time

I would do everything differently

I wouldn't make the same mistakes

I would try my hardest every day

I would do my best to succeed at whatever I tried

If I could go back in time

I would kiss her

that night on her front porch

And if I could go back in time

I would NEVER sleep with her best friend

and I would have never lied to her

it's too bad I can't go back in time

I would fix all

all these mistakes I have made

beat

beat

sigh

You know what?

If I could go back in time

I wouldn't change a fucking thing

All of those weren't mistakes

They were learning experiences

And I did try my hardest every day

Also I have been very successful

I don't know what I was thinking

If I undid everything I did

I wouldn't be me

All of these things that have

have happened in my life

They serve to better me as a person

I wouldn't even go back in time

If I was offered a time machine

I would say no thank you

and walk away.

Good free form poem. I like it a lot. And if you are wondering the work is only slightly autobiographical. I did sleep with her best friend, but it was after the night in the parking lot when she dumped me. I did it for revenge and because her friend had been trying to seduce me for some time. You know what? That last statement doesn't make me look good at all. It cast a dark shadow my way. I never said it was the right decision but it was mine to make and I made it. I did lie to her, to many times. I am sorry for that and I know it was stupid shit.

Speaking of that night in the parking lot it's an interesting memory of mine. Because I cannot for the life of me remember what exactly she said or what I replied. The gist of what she said was to break up with me. I do remember, very vividly what I was feeling. My head was swimming and I was nauseous, I can remember I had to sit down on the ground, in that parking lot at two in the morning. I remember that my friend was three spots down making out with one of her friends. They both had significant others, but some reason I was not upset with either of them. I remember her turning to walk away and I laid down right there and looked up at the blanket of stars overhead. I cannot remember what I was thinking. I remember getting up and throw up on that tree, I still to this day know exactly where that tree is. It's the same tree that I held her hair at as she threw up, that was our first date. Date is not the best word for that because we went to a house party but we did it together. I still go back to that parking spot, the one I laid down in that night. I have a sense memory tied to that place, it always takes me back. Our tree is still there too. The last thing I remember about that night, we broke up is after I threw up at the tree I got up to head home. I got in my friends truck, his blue Dakota. The keys were in it. I started it up. I backed out and left, he was too busy making out to notice. I remember I got halfway home before I realized what I had done. I had to go back and give him his truck and take my car. I was so heart broken that I couldn't think straight. I don't know how I drove home. If a cop would have stopped me I would have failed a sobriety test. Even though I did not drink a single drop of alcohol. I was just messed up, emotionally. And then I slept with her friend two days later.

Legacy

If the sum all of my experiences and memories pass with me, then what if anything is my legacy? Is it the way I have interacted with others? Is it more or less nonexistent? I have on occasion considered having children; however it ultimately becomes nothing more than consideration. The situation is seemingly never going to allow me a progeny. I have come to terms with the truth of the matter and am considerably content with it. And yet the question of my legacy constantly wanders in my idle thoughts. I have decided to record and hopefully pass on these thoughts so that perhaps someone will learn something about me. This collection is the sum all of my experiences, thoughts, hopes and dreams. It is nothing more or less than me.

I do not consider myself a philosopher; however I am on occasion capable of surprisingly deep thoughts on varied subjects. How I arrived at this moment is still something of a mystery to even me. I have never had the drive to put pen to paper in any significant manner. Sure a time or two, I have scribbled a poem or two and I do enjoy the craft, but I am not to say a writer. People often tell me that they enjoy my works and teachers have been trying to get me to write for many years.

If it is only my legacy that I hope to cement then perhaps there is no way better then to write something of substance and value. I am not a personable person and I do not seek out friends. While I do try to treat everyone I meet with respect I have no measurable impact on any person’s life. It may seem at this juncture that I a selfishly seeking fame or fortune, but I assure you, whoever you are that nothing could be farther from the truth. I only seek to put my experiences in someone else’s hands. I am not seeking adulation or praise by any means. In fact if this manuscript finds you and only you then I will consider my mission complete and may rest.

I often wonder if life is getting progressively worse or if it is human nature to cling to the past. Yesterday may have been easier or perhaps it is that we let the bad memories fade and keep good one close to our hearts. While I have not live for more than a few centuries, I am positive that people have always yearned for what is no more.

I stopped the last paragraph because it was getting preachy and that’s not me. I want so bad to share but I have no idea what to say or where to begin. I was born but I do not remember that. My absolute first memory is my third birthday party. While the memory is a bit scratchy, that is only as can be expected from a fifteen year old memory. On the night of my third birthday after dinner with the family, whom we lived with at the time; my mother carted me off to take my normal evening bath. But for whatever reason I did not want to take my bath that evening, like most children; maybe I just hated bathes all together. I digress, so as mom is trying to fight me into the bathtub; I somehow managed to wiggle away and take off running out of the bathroom. You probably guessed by now, I was buck naked. I arrived back in the dining room, still naked, to find my birthday cake on the table waiting for me; and my family had gathered in the room for the celebration. So I guess that one of my first memories is blowing out my three candles in the nude. As a matter of a fact, I believe that there is a picture of that somewhere in the family photo albums. I better hide that before it becomes like a celebrity sex tape type thing.

Posting

I will be posting some of my offline works in the next week to fill up the blog. Thanks for the patience.

Mass

It was a cold dark night in the forest of Isthel. A single shadowy figure moved quickly and quietly thought the shrubbery with out so much as rustling a single leaf or snapping a single fallen twig. The figure advanced upon a strange many horned animal in a clearing, eating a small berry. With one fluid motion the figure moved behind the horn animal and broke its neck. The figure then dragged the horned animal off into the brush, to never be seen again.

“That's the stupidest story I have ever heard.” The young boy shouted at his rotund father. “Well it certainly used to amuse you.” the father retorted. “Now wash up and head of to bed little one.” the father finish and the son headed off to do as instructed. “Proud of that one. Headstrong and he speaks his mind.” the father said thinking out loud. “He certainly takes after his father.” said the boys mother, breaking the silence. The father just nodded as they quietly got ready for their own slumber.

The next morning as the sun broke over the tree line of the forest Isthel the young boy was awoke by his father. “Arise my sleepy son, the sun is out and today is your day/” the father said almost musically. The young boy sprang from him bead. It was his day he remembered, today was the day he officially became a man. He was just a boy of eight but as was the tradition in the kingdom of Mass-vile, this was the age where a boy became a man and started attending school or went to work. He began to review everything he was taught by his father about the rites of passage as he dressed for the event. The young lad flew down the stairs and arrived in the kitchen where his mother was preparing a feast. “Our beloved son. When you return tonight from the rites we will feast and be merry.” his mother sang to him. The boy was very hungry, he had been fasting for three days as part of the tradition. His mother had the sweet melodic voice, like a choir of angels. The young boy just nodded. He was swooped under his fathers arm as they headed out of the estate and out into the town. He boy was greeted by a garrison on the troops from the small kingdom his father ran. As was the custom the boy was led into the town by the troops as his father stayed behind at his home. The boy and his escort arrived at the center of town where all the men of the kingdom, minus his own father, had gathered.

The troops presented the lad to the men of the kingdom. “Here stands Mass, the younger. Son of his honor the mayor.” shouted the town crier. The crowd erupted in a thunderous applause. The boy was awe struck by everything. Then the men turned and face a large enclosed area where a full grown great bear was caged. The boy remembered that first was the test of strength. “Boys who pass the first test and fail the others become solders” his fathers voice echoed in his memory. The general of the army produced a ceremonial broad sword and a small bauble on the end of a plain rope necklace. “Now lad” the general began “put the necklace on so if the bear wins you can be revived. And when your ready enter the cage.” The boy swallowed his fear as put put the necklace on over his head. He then took the broad sword firmly in both hands and entered the cage. The great bear reared on its hind legs revealing its full eight feet height. Yet for some reason the boy was no longer afraid. He swung the sword with all his might at the bears head. And at the last possible second he turned the blade sideways and smacked the bear unconscionable but not killing it. The boy turned to the crowd and spoke “I would prefer not to kill this beast. “ even as he spoke these words the lad knew he didn't have a choice. The crowd roared and it was clear the bear died or he did. The boy flinched as he drove the sword into the bears heart.

The young boy then exited the cage and was met with much fanfare ans the men chanted strength test passed and carried the young man to the next test. The motley crew arrived in a few moments at the home of the most kingdoms respected elder. The elder took a good look at the lad and after a long while of silence proclaimed “Why is the sky blue?” The boy remembered his father explaining this was the test of wisdom. Those who passed only the wisdom test became elders. The crowd murmured among itself as the boy had a seat on the ground and thought about this difficult question. After the sun had passed its peak and began to set the boy realized the answer. “The Gods.” is all the young boy said. The elder sat and twisted his flowing snow white beard. Then he nodded “that answer shows a great deal of wisdom.” the aging man said. The crowd once again erupted in fanfare and they carried the boy off yet again. This time to the most difficult test, they were off to the temple.

The men arrived at the temple and set the boy on the great golden steps, yet not villager stepped forward with the boy. “This test you go alone and quietly. We await you out here.” said the general. The boy nodded, his father had left that part out of his preparations. The boy shrugged it off and entered the monolithic cathedral. Once inside the boy thought back to his father once again, all his father had told his about the final test was that it was a test of faith. Men who passed the test of faith and no other test were destined for the priest hood. As the boy advanced further into the temple he noticed a priest who motioned for him. The boy saw the priest was indicating that he should stand on a small mat in the middle of the room. No sooner did the boy reach the square, it fell through and dumped him into a small dungeon. The boy frantically pounded on the walls but gave up when he realized that his prison was carved into solid rock on all sides. From above the priest yelled “You haven't eaten in days you will surly starve by the end of the day.” The boy sat down and began to think about all the thing he would miss in his life. “All you have to do is renounce our gods and you will be released.” yelled the priest again. The boy knew that he would rather die then ever renounce his beliefs. So he sat in silence as what sounded like a hurricane was going on above him, he couldn't see anything but he imagined that the priest was preparing some sort of sacrifice with his body. And then suddenly a rope appeared next to the lad. He grabbed it and after testing if it would hold his weight began to climb up.

          

Upon reaching the top the boy was greeted by a full temple, there were as many people in the temple as it would hold and they were cheering him on. The priest patted him on the back and smiled “You passed the final test. By showing you would rather die then give up our deities.” The boy smiled, he had passed all his test just like his father before him. This meant that many doors where open to him and he could take any job he desired. It was the priest who brought the young man back to reality. “Now son the gods wish to grant you a gift.” the priest said. The boy wasn't sure what to think of this twist either. It was something else his father had not mentioned. The young man was led to the alter where a small white whirl of smoke was gathering in mid air. The priest stepped up on to the alter and soon light exploded from his eyes and mouth ad he began glowing white. Mass arose as the villagers all looked away. “I grant you young Mass with out most sacred gift of all” the possessed priest bellowed so loud it shook the temple to its core. The priest reached out and touched the young mans eyes. “For as long as you walk our lands you will be endowed with vision in any condition even darkness.” the spirit boomed again. The young man stepped back and dropped to his knee as his eyes began to burn...

The elf god Reali waved his hand. “enough of your camp fire fairy tales Oman. I am seeking the one true warrior not some child with magic eyes.” He got up and stormed out the great circle. Reali stopped and turned toward me and glared “You know, I would have expected you of all gods to understand my quest. After all finding this warrior means as much to you as anyone else.” he yelled, before continuing to storm off. I chuckled to myself as Reali walked away. I said “We will see...”

The young mans name was Mass, he was named for his father. Who was named for his great girth. When he was born he was only average in size. He was born to wealthy farm owning and politically active peoples. He grew up and early on became strong like an oxen and quick like the large strange birds that flew over head. When he was young he believed the stories his father told, but as he grew into adolescence he began to disdain his father. His father was a small time local mayor. Basically the ruler of the entire kingdom of Massville. Which his father had named after himself. His fathers father was a farm owner and made himself wealthy on the blood and sweat of laborers. Mass the older was an extremely lazy man, his political career was marred by accusations of corruption and bribery. Mass the younger took a job in the fields doing manual labor when he was old enough, at the age of eight. This enraged his father who had hoped to send his son off to school, in the mecca that is the Northern Kingdom. Mass the older had hoped to pass on his mayoral duties to the younger one day. But fate conspires to destroy the plans of man and beast alike. The younger would grow to become a local legend and would soon turn his eyes to the Northern Kingdom and the calling of the life of a fierce warrior. As teenagers often do the younger would dream of the glamour that was elsewhere. As the younger began his teen aged years he grew in strength and mind.

Often as he stood in the fields and wiped the sweat from his large strong brow, he would think that he was destined for something more then this. Many times his father would yell at him for slacking off and send Mass back to work. Even though the younger worked twice as hard as the other workers and arrived earlier and stayed later then the others. This was his fathers only means of punishing his maturing son. All of the physical labor caused the muscles to explode from his arms and chest. As he became a teenager it became clear that this Mass would not be anything like his lazy father, who would sent others to work for him while the sat in office and counted gold coins, and then yelled at the laborers who weren't cutting it, and often some who were. The younger Mass was hard working and determined. He gained great speed from chasing rabbits around in the forest. Often running down the rabbits and grabbing them, with his bare hands. The rabbits were then sold my his father for profit. And still the younger yearned for something more. When the young man was not working he would often explore the woods of Isthel that flanked his small hamlet all around. Mass the younger had quite the reputation for his adventures. The legend grew to mythic proportions one summer evening when Mass was around seventeen or so.

           

It was an extremely hot summer morning, the kind of day that drives men insane, the younger had awoken at dawn like he always did and had headed off to work as soon as the sun peaked over the horizon, while his father slumbered off his drinking from the night before. When he arrived at the fields he discovered that the fields has been robbed the night before, picked clean and upon further inspection he discovered that no beast had made the damage. The vegetables had been pulled from the ground and their roots had been cut off. Mass met the other workers as the arrived “This theft was executed by a man” he said. The crew suddenly looked ill, as if they had all suddenly taken sick at the same time. “No man, sir.” one squeaked out. Mass shook his head “Not this silly legend of the shadowy figure again. Killing horned rabbits and children who stray to far into the woods” he proclaimed. “It is an old wives tale, meant to scare children who wander into the forest.” he finished. The crew did not believe him as they continued to have the deathly pale look on their faces. Mass knew there was no point in arguing with the men, these silly small minded villagers had no concept of reality outside the cozy town, and because of such the townsfolk liked to tell tall tales of mythic demons. “To disprove this shadowy figure nonsense, I will take to the woods to capture our thief.” he proclaimed. The workers attempted to protest but Mass was by far the fastest runner and was halfway to the woods when the first sound of protest emerged from the workers.

Mass entered the woods armed only with his beloved hoe. The gardening equipment was the only thing he owned. He had toiled all last summer to earn enough gold for it. He had bought it himself. His fathers wealth was of no consequence to Mass. He soon found himself past the furthest mark he had ever made into the forest. A large oak tree on which he had ripped the word MASS into with his bare hands. He swallowed his fear as he advanced past the marker. The forest was so dense past the great oak tree that almost no light shined inside. Mass has been gifted with the ability to see in any condition when he visited the priest upon his ascension into manhood. His eyes instantly adapted to the light and soon he could see as well n the dark as any other being could in the light. He proceeded his his grip tight around the hoe and tracked forward into the great unknown.

His sense of direction was nonresistant in these trees because like many others he relied heavily on the sun for bearings. But Mass was sure he had passed the same forked tree more then one time, but then again all of the trees blended in with each other. He stopped to kneel and wipe the sweat from his massive brow. A sharp sound exploded in front on him, twenty paces ahead. Mass dove left for cover, only just manging to grab his hoe before he began to roll. He had not looked closely in his haste to move out of the missiles way that he dove off a steep hill. He rolled down until he stopped with a hard thud, he exploded up from the ground and assumed a defensive position. Clap, clap, clap, in the dense brush the sound echoed. Mass wheeled around to face the sound. There on a wooden chair in the middle of a camp sight sat a minotaur. “Impressive, human child. You 'tracking' skills are far superior then many of your race.” the monster bellowed at Mass. “I don't appreciate the mocking tone beast.” Mass screamed at the minotaur. The creature stood up and took hold of a lantern and chuckled. “I am surprised that you avoid the arrow trap I set up the hill. But I assume you are here about the food I stole form your pathetic village.” said the minotaur. Mass nodded, as he fronted his weapon and move into a fighting stance. The creature just laughed again “do you really think you stand a chance? All over some worthless vegetables?” the creature boomed. Mass did not move and he did no speak, his mind was melded into battle mode and would not be stirred. Upon seeing the human was serious the minotaur said “okay” then without warning hi flipped on the lantern that he has been clutching and lunged ant Mass. Since his eyes adjusted immediately Mass stepped to the side as the minotaur rushed past him, he then struck the minotaur squarely on the back of it's massive head. The creature was stunned but not hurt, it simply shook it off and wheeled around again to rush. This time Mass sprung into the air and the minotaur came rushing right under him. The creature arrived back at its tent and shook its massive head again.

          “I have never been bested in a fight and it has been quite some time since I have been challenged in a fight.” the minotaur bellowed out. The with out warning the creature lunged at Mass, the large beast was moving ten time as fast as his previous attempts and caught Mass before he could react. The minotaur took hold of the hoe and cracked in fourths with his bare hands and cast the pieces aside. Mass was stunned but he forced himself to refocus and put his fist into position. The beast looked amused and swung his enormous fist at Mass, the blow connected with the side of Mass' head but the thick skull of the young man did not give and inch and a convincing crack echoed through the forest as the minotaurs fingers broke against Mass' head. The creature dropped and examined his hand. The large creature shook its horned head “how?” it stammered. Mass was unsure of what had just happened, the best he knew the creature had made contact his the side of his head but he felt nothing.

          The minotaur returned to its camp sight while Mass was still befuddled by the events that had just occurred. The creature picked up and enormous bolder with its good hand and tossed it in the air. The beast moved under the falling rack and put his good hand up in the air. The bolder crushed into pieces as small as pebbles after contact with the minotaurs fist. The creatures lowered it's hand. “Rocks, bricks, and the skulls of many humans during the Great Duna War.” the creature paused “and yet your skull breaks all my fingers...” the creature trailed off. Mass stayed ready in case the creature made a move at him, but admitted to himself that he was just as confused. He did something no warrior would ever do, Mass dropped his fist and walked toward the minotaur. “Let me wrap your hand.” Mass said. The minotaur waved him off but gestured for Mass to sit in a second chair at the camp site. Mass had a seat as the minotaur sat in his original seat and lit a camp fire. “Let me tell you about the world outside your tiny hamlet. As I am sure it is your destiny to leave this place. I will impart on you the wisdom of the world.” the creature began.

           

          It was nearly a century ago when the Great Duna War erupted but the ground work was laid even before that. In the days before Duna there two major powers in this world. The Northern Kingdom which was still in its youth and the great Southern Kingdom, which had been the dominate force for as long has history was recorded. The kingdoms where separated by not only geographic location but the ideals they embodied. The Northern Kingdom was open to all beings who wanted to become citizens. The Southern Kingdom was shut off from all non humans. About five years before the Great Duna War, (or BGDW) when an imperious young politician seized power in the Southern Kingdom a man named Oba. Oba was young and beloved by the people of the Southern Kingdom, but he was inexperienced in the realm of leadership. Oba very quickly after his rise began to consolidate the outlying territories around his new kingdom, to grow it's size. The new leader also passed laws that forced all young men into military service. Oba worked quickly and in just three years he had amassed a billion man army and had expanded the reach of the Southern Kingdom through the Great Wide Plains and right up to the gates of the Northern Kingdom. No other Kingdom made any move to stop the south. So about two years BGDW the Southern Kingdom begins to round up all the minotaurs that they could get their hands on, even going as far as taking minos from their homes as they slept, and demanding the other Kingdoms of the world turn over all minos to them. The Northern and Western Kingdoms did what was requested of them, not knowing what was going to happen to the minotaurs. Once they had rounded up all the minos in the world they walled us in in what the called a 'reserve' in the north west corner of the world. Now this reservation was nothing more then a work camp.

          

A small group of minos, including myself escaped and headed through the treacherous Majectic Mountains to seek the help of the Western Kingdom. After hearing of the atrocities that were transpiring they king of the west Rwela promised his entire army to the minos. However, the west was a small nation and their entire army was less then a thousand. King Rwela sent our small party of minos to the Northern Kingdom to see if we could recruit the Northern Army which was a million strong. So off we go to recruit more help which of course we got. A few day later an army of men, dwarves, and minotaurs numbering around two million formed ranks on the Great Wide Plains and advanced toward the Southern Kingdom, where we met Oba's billion man army. The resulting battle which kicked of the Great Duna War, started right there on the plains. We were massively out numbered but we had our advantages, the armies of the North and West are highly trained as are the dwarves and minotaurs. The Souths strength was numbers but most of their forces were just kids. The battles were long and hard and after clashes all over the world it all came down to one final battle. Our side, the newly named Alliance of Free Peoples had advanced on the Southern Capital.

Oba was entrenched with an army of around ten million including his cavalry and elite troops. Our numbers were waining from lack of reinforcements. But we knew the time was now so the Alliance sent all the troops is could muster, some five hundred thousand or so to the capital. The fighting was intense and at one point the minotaurs were pinned down by the southern elite, and we were saved by a dwarf. That, however, is a another story. But we fought on and ultimately took the capital and Oba was captured and forced to stand trial for his actions. Sadly, I never found out what happened to Oba because I left the Alliance to return to the minotaur reserve, which had become the minotaurs home. The Southern Kingdom was disband and its people were force to leave the kingdom so it could be razed to the ground. Most of the residents of the kingdom claim to this day that they didn't know what Oba was doing and just went along with it so they would not be killed. The displaced southern peoples went on to form the new Eastern Kingdom, or the Eastern Alliance of Free Peoples as they call it now. Taking the name from our army to show that all were welcome in their new kingdom. Also as not to be confused with the original Eastern Kingdom which fell a thousand years before the Great Duna War even began. That's about as much history as I know young man.

The minotaur put down his pipe and finished his story. “That's all the history that I know of.” he rested for a moment. Mass noticed that the minotaurs hand was bothering him. “Wow” Mass started “that story should be told to everyone the keep it from happening again.” he finished. The minotaur just sat there, the silence was deafening. “I apologize for the brief and sporadic history but as you may or may not know facts are not minos specialty. We are warriors.” the beast broke the silence, Mass could only nod. The minotaur arose very suddenly and took a step toward Mass, who shot straight up and prepared to defend himself. The minotaur shook its massive head an disappeared into its tent, submerging a few moments later with a small aged leather bag, a sword in a scabbard, and a scroll. The minotaur thrust all three items into Mass' hands. “Take these” bellowed the beast “perhaps you can make much better use of them then I” he paused.”What is all of this?” Mass interrupted. “Well” began the beast “the pack is my travel supplies, the sword is an indestructible broad sword forged at Matock, and the scroll is a recommendation to admit you to the Warrior fights in the Northern Kingdom.” the minotaur stop to catch its breath, which appeared to be causing his some amount of pain. “You studied at Matock?” exclaimed Mass. The beast just nodded, “what is wrong?” Mass inquired. The beast struggled to sit down in his chair. “I am afraid boy, that you have ended my life.” the minotaur stated clutching at his chest. “From a broken hand?” Mass blurted out the only thing that came into his mind. The minotaur cracked a smile, Mass believed that the beast had not smiled in quiet sometime. “You really must not realize.” the minotaur began “when I clutched my broken hand, you reached in and used a technique called the exploding heart punch...” the minotaur trailed off as even breathing was becoming laborer. Mass was dumbfounded, he was aware that in the blur of the battle he was relying on instinct and nothing else. But he was unsure where his sub conscience would have learned this maneuver. “Answer one more question before you die” Mass began, the beast looked him in the eye. “The warriors who train at Matock are the greatest warriors in the whole world, even a small kingdom farmer knows that. So I guess my question is this: where you using your full strength and speed when we battled? I ask because it seems that I defeated you quickly.” Mass finished. The minotaurs smile got wider. “Full strength and speed...” the minotaur trailed off as he fell to the ground still clutching his heart and still smiling. Mass rushed to the minotaur and placed the creatures large head in his lap. Mass began to weep very silently. The creatures eyes shot open and he spoke “ONE TRUE WARRIOR.” then then minotaur again fell silent. Mass close his friends eyes as the beast was no long apart of this world. Mass arose and began to search the brush frantically until he found what he was looking for, some halper leaves. Mass then wrapped his minotaurs body in the leaves. The halper leaves would prevent the body from decaying long enough for Mass to take the minotaur from this terrible and bury him in a warriors grave. The using the supports from the minotaurs tent and some other branched Mass fashioned a sled to lay the Minotaur on, so that he could pull his friend instead of carrying him. Mass gathered up all of his new possessions and his broken hoe and pulling the beast behind him began to make his way back toward Massville.

          

It has just before dusk when Mass arrived back in the town he called home. He was meet by this father and a garrison on troops from the militia. “Son! Gods be praised, we were about to come in after you.” his father began. “Yeah.” Mass dismissed his father flippantly. The younger pulled his make shift transport around to the back of his family and buried the minotaur in a quiet ceremony that only he attended. Mass used a large stone as the head stone, into the large rock he carved 'Here lies a friend. A veteran of the Great Duna War. A student trained at Matock. But most importantly a Minotaur and proud of it.' Then Mass headed inside to wash up for dinner as his family was most likely waiting on him. Unbeknown st to the teen aged Mass, his legend was growing. Many villager were already telling the story of how Mass returned from Isthel with a dead minotaur. A minotaur that he killed. And as gossip usually does the story would only grow from there...

           

         

 “What?” Byll the minotaur bellowed out, “is it true Oman?” A tall slender deity named Noq asked. The elder god Oman still just stared into the great fire. “I don't know Noq” Oman began “as I am sure you are aware the legend states that not even I know who the one true warrior is.” Noq stared at Oman and weighted whether or not he believed Oman or not. Deciding he did he re took his seat and motioned for Oman to continue.

          

Something greater then what he was doing here in the small industrious kingdom of Massville, just east of the great metropolis of the great Northern Kingdom. In these days the rock stars of the time were the men who fought in the great gladiatorial wars. Not so much wars as they were one on one matches. Two men were locked in a cage and forced to fight until one of them was dead. The child dreamed of being famous and fighting in those battles. As soon as he was the age of consent, you see even with Byll the minotaurs letter of recommendation a human warrior had to be eighteen years age before he could set off on a journey and that my friends is where we pick up, as a young man sets off.

          

Mass checked his pack. This small leather sack contained everything he owned, or inherited from the great warrior Byll, which was scant. Mass had dreamed the night before of being the greatest warrior of all time. He recalled the images from his dream as he rechecked his pack for the fourth time. He looked to the house and it became clear that no one was coming to see him off to the big city. He was also worried about what he would do for food. He had some twenty rabbits that he had caught the night before. Mass and grown into a handsome young man with a chiseled jaw and bulging muscles. He ran his hand across his bald head as he fondly remembered his hair. But people in the big city were wearing no hair this season. A movement in the corner of his eye brought his glance around. There in the doorway that had been closed was his portly father. “Son, I must beseech you to stay one more time.” he bellowed. Mass lowered his glance as if to think about this proposal. “I am afraid father that I cannot do such a thing. I yearn for more then just the farm. Or your political corruption” Mass said casting his glance toward his father. His father moved from one side to the other as if to shift his weight. “I think I know where you are coming from. I think the time as come for you to become the Mayor, you don;t have to be corrupt, that was a decision I made. You can choose to be decent.” Mass laughed a little, then realizing his father did not share his amusement, he stopped. “This father, has nothing to do with position. I simply believe I am destined for more then you.”

          

And with that his father slammed the door and Mass was once again alone. He shrugged it off and set off down the path to the big city. It was a long and arduous journey...

The Game

He told me to write this story down. He said that if I failed to capture the essence of those events, I was doomed to repeat them. So here goes nothing and everything at the same time. I won’t lie to you and tell you it was a specific night. But it was dark and the rain poured out of the heavens. But it was just another night. It would easily be confused with any idle Tuesday. I was making my way home from work. I was stuck working another night behind the counter of your local auto parts. Selling cheap parts made in China but intended to somehow fit on American cars. I was selling out my morals and standards for $8.25 an hour. I hated that job, not only because I used to stand for something, but also because it was second shift work, which took away time I could spend with my family. I was wasting time in this retail coffin. The only thing I ever truly loved in life was writing and I have failed at that too. I believed I was tasked to write, more specifically to sit down and hash these feelings out. And by my actions to communicate with the masses. Actually not the masses, to communicate with the students who over-examine your literary baby. These literati who pick apart everything you put on paper. And yet we write knowing this anyway. This is a talent for some, and truthfully it comes quite easy for me. However, since the Lord leaves nothing unchecked, the ease is accompanied by my crippling self doubt and uncertainty. It is the reason why before he told to write, I had never finished writing anything I had set out to put to paper. I wasn't always this uneasy, was I? It seems that I was once young and brimming with confidence in what I do here. Maybe I am to blame, I am an abject failure as a human being and that reflects in my writing. Maybe I would've done thing differently, had I possessed some divine control over my life and surroundings. I am only a man; in fact I am no man. A faceless visage of words, I am complicated and I am simple. Why must these words come to me with unspeakable ease and yet any sense of competition is tarnished? I have struggled under the weight of this burden for most of my adult life.

I was just your standard college drop out with dreams too big for my place in life. I had missed my second calling as the next stud football player. A disagreement with a coach my senior season had caused me to stubbornly drop off the team and get drunk on Friday nights instead. I was mad as hell because nothing in my life had gone according to plan. I was also enraged by the fact that nothing had ever been handed to me. I worked for everything I had ever gotten and I was worn by it all. What makes that particular night any different from any other is what I happened to do to myself. Every night I trucked forty five minutes home from my crappy job and I hated that commute too. Most nights I only thought about the idea. That random night is the night I put into action what had only before been a thought. There was a bridge over looking a ten foot drop off into a stream. I had sized it up for years. There was no side rail leading up to the bridge and the first five feet of the embankment was cleared or obstruction . If I ran off the road at the precise moment I should launch over the side and into the embankment below. And if I was lucky I would not draw another breath. I revved up the engine and flew off the road and in to the grass. I slammed the pedal to the floor and the back end of the car kicked around sideways. I I let it out a bit to level out the rear of the car and hit the throttle again. The car never did launch like in my day dreams. But it did slide off the edge and into the water below. As an added bonus the front end smashed into a gargantuan rock and upon impact it flipped over landing on the roof. Since the car was built in Mexico, the roof caved in. I sat in the car being held in my seat by my seat belt  I was gripping the steering wheel and I could feel myself slipping from conscience I would feel the warm liquid pouring from my hair and I could taste pennies. I thought to myself, 'just let go.' This is what you wanted, why are you trying to cling so hard to a life you never wanted. In that moment I let go of my grip on life and a peaceful wave of white washed over me as I left my life behind.

Much to my own surprise I awoke in a haze of white and bright lights. Not being one to believe in the afterlife I conclude that I had survived the crash and I must be in the hospital. After coming around it became apparent that this was no hospital. There were no walls I could make out. And I was lying in a ball on the surprisingly soft floor. Above me were lights so bright that I could not stare at them. I arose to my feet and dusted myself off. To my amazement I had no injuries, in fact I did not have a single cut, scrape or bruise anywhere on my body. I was still unsure about my surrounding when it occurred to me. Please don’t let this be heaven I begged of no one. My mind raced to images of burning in Hell and scripture that told us suicide was a sin. If this was heaven and I was to face final judgment I was in major trouble. Suddenly and unexpectedly and reassuring wave came over me and a calmness over came me. “That is not exactly how it works here” a beautiful booming voice from behind me. I whipped around and looked at something that I still cannot explain. The voice had originated from a small collection of clouds. I am assuming the small white wisps of air were clouds. The being also possessed a ball of light at its center that was very bright. In fact if the clouds had not been covering it, I am sure the light would've blinded me. “Who are you?” I stammered. The being replied “I do not mean to be rude but I believe that what is correct, not who.” I was confused and the being could sense my confusion. I am sure the being was in my head and could feel all my emotions. “Do not be confused. I am a being and not a person. Therefore the correct question would be what you are. Again not to be rude by why ask a question.” The air fell silent for a brief second before the being continued. Only this time the answer was not spoken out loud. I could hear the beings voice in my head, almost telepathically “if you’re not asking the right questions?” “I understand” I stated. “You say you do and in fact you are still unsure” bellowed its response. “Since this can be unnerving something’s allowing me to take a human form so we can talk for a bit” it said before the clouds surrounding the light began to swirl rapidly and then the light shot out from the center and knocked me on my ass. I shielded my eyes from the light as I fell. When I could tell the light had passed I lowered my arm and I saw a hand reaching to help me up. The hand was attached to a smiling face of a man with a long brown beard. He was wearing a white smock and leather sandals. “Who am I now?” he asked as he pulled me to my feet. “You look like the famous paintings of Jesus” I answered very meekly. He laughed “it is not that simple but this is the form most people recognize.” I understood. He had a very reassuring way about him that made me feel better. “Jesus and God are names given to me where you come from” he began “the best way to describe what I am to call myself the creator” he finished. It made sense to me. “Then are all religions a path to the creator?” I asked him. “Very good, now you are thinking for yourself that means you’re ready to walk with me” he stated.

He took my hand and we walked hand in hand up a white hill that was unnoticeable until you came upon it, and beyond that we walked to a plateau. There was a single handmade wooden chair and a matching table set near the edge of the plateau. He walked me over to the edge of the cliff and motioned for me to peer over into the crevasse. Down there was different from where we were. It was dark and smoky and even looking at the darkness sent a shill down my soul. “So that is hell?” I asked. “Again heaven and hell are words. From people who live where you some from. Think of this place as the light and that place as the darkness” he spoke. Again putting things into terms I could understand. He keeps speaking “I reside here in the light with and he keeps domain down in the darkness. Think of him as my opposite, most find it easy to call him the destroyer’ he concluded. My mouth was agape and after I collected my jaw from the floor I asked “destroyer?” He nodded “oh yes, the darkness is his kingdom and the worst are sent there after my judgment” he said never breaking his glance from my own. My stomach sank; I knew that any judgment of my life would not end well. “Should you just save us both the trouble and cast me in now?” I asked. He shook his head. “No you are a special case and because of that we need to delay your judgment until you play the game” he stated matter of factually  “Game? What game?” I blurted out. 

Flat Black

Matte black is the correct term for the color of the metal. Some people call it flat black but the idea is the same, no shine at all to the gun. The flat black color makes anything look well used even when it is brand new. Some people crave this color for their personal firearms. No gloss, no shine, and no sheen. The color is forever etched in my memory and I as long I live I will never forget it. Just like the pointed spikes on the flash hider on the end of the barrel that haunt my idle thoughts.

Where I a stronger man emotionally I would turn to my faith. But perhaps in the face of changing values and morals it becomes necessary to evaluate religion. To take into account what ideologies are antiquated and require redefinition. Nearly every generation has their preferred Bible, and this is the best metaphor for our changing philosophies. I disagree with the personification of Satan, as I do not believe the Deceiver is something or someone you can touch. If Satan exists he is much more probably metaphysical, and in fact I prefer to think of Satan as something that exists in everyone’s heart or soul. As something that all people must choose to acknowledge of ignore, it makes sense to me that the ability to be good or bad exists in every person. Some religions do not have a Satan figure. Some lean toward the idea that the Creator, or God; is both the hero and the villain  Satan and Hell both appear to be measures of control, created to keep people from stepping out of line and questioning the Church. Some churches have become money making machines that rake in non taxable income hand over fist. Not all are guilty of this but some are and this reinforces the need to keep people in their seats on worship days. 

Small Talk

I hate people who abuse small talk. I have no problems with small talk and over the years of working with the public I have nearly perfected the art but some people abuse the situation. The basis for small talk is a polite conversation to move, what could be a rather uncomfortable exchange, along. The people who take it to an extreme are these people who want to tell you their entire life story in the span of conversation. I do not need to know that your dog ran away in 1984 and that you have a family history of diabetes going back umpteen generations. Small talk should be pleasant for starters and secondly these people almost always want to be disgustingly personal. Then these same people seem to be the ones who dominate the conversation. Conversation is intended to involve all parties not just you. Do you listen or just wait to talk?

I feel like I just threw up these words on the page, the problems I have with some people just bubble up until I burst. Not literally of course, a geyser of letters, words, and punctuation tend to come out when I am pissed.

The conclusion of this is just to smile and look my feet until people who ruin small talk finish and leave me alone. And while that could be perceived as rude it keeps me from telling people to go to hell. But don't tell me to go to hell, as I just recently returned and the Island is beautiful this time of year.

And Leonard it was a general platitude.