Stacy

Lyrics to a song I wrote...

you say you are one

above it all

but your just

another pawn

you say you are

too crass for it

if you even

care at all 

i've seen the truth

i wont be abused

i've seen you too

sell your abuse

any willing soul

to fill the hole

where your heart use to be

just a drama queen

i hate the way

you make me feel

another slave

to join the ranks

you need a thousand men

a thousand more

but there's a million of you

and they're all whores

C.R.

Endeth the Sun God

In the beginning the vast communities of life were confined to the oceans. In his omnipotence the Sun God saw fit to allow some of the creatures to walk upon land for the first time in the world's history. The monotony of plant life grew after some time and the Sun God wished to see a new element in the kingdom he watched over. Under the sweet warmth of his rays life grew accustomed to the new world. Among his favored were the Surem. These humble people were peace loving and gentle and saw no need for government. They saw within themselves a profound respect for nature and the benevolence of the sun. Animals and earth found comfort in their presence and allowed themselves to be heard. Wise and ominous whispers were heard from the hooting owls, pranks and jokes from the crow, and the earth spoke of bountiful crops that only asked for the warm rays and the moist banks of the river in return.

Kahe'eme was among the Surem and often fell into thought about nature's awe striking gift. He was raised a hunter and would often find himself wandering the woods lost deep within his mind. There was always a kind of serenity found within the domain of the trees. Often the wind would rush through the canopies above and through the tangled mess of branches and would be interpreted as secrets and premonitions of the future. Kahe'eme on his current trek though felt a different kind of vibration reverberating through the empty spaces between the trees. Deep in the woods there was heard a faint rumbling. Kehe'eme found the souce, a great tree with a beautiful green canopy and small yellow flowers peeking through the tangled branches. Almost as if sensing the young native's presence the tree gave off another shutter and the roots that stuck up from the dry soil vibrated.

In all of his life the young man had never seen such a reaction from the trees and the birds that surrounded him offered no solace. With wind at his back  Kehe'eme rushed back to the rancheria. "Anastasio!" Kahe'eme called for his brother who stood at the bank of the river that ran through their land.

Anastasio turned abruptly brandishing a sour face at being disturbed. "What is it brother?"

Kahe'eme was out of breath but did not hesitate to use whatever was available to tell his story. "The woods brother..." each segment stuffed between his heavy panting, "there is a tree...it shook...I don't know...I don't think I have ever seen it before...and it shook brother...but I could not understand it."

"Calm brother," Anastasio grew worrisome at his younger brother's state. "Let us fetch the wise man, he will know what the tree is trying to say."

There were multiple rancherias that lined the furtive river and once word had reached the natives of the mysterious shuttering tree a party had emerged of elected wise men. Leading the party was young Kahe'eme still wielding his poison tipped arrows and bow and was followed closely by Anastasio. Upon arrival of the tree the wise men were also found clueless but studied diligently each and every movement of the tree.

"These vibrations are hard to read." Said one.

"It is speaking in another language." Said another.

"The ancient language?"

"Have not heard it in a long time."

"Have we forgotten how to speak it?"

"Sea Hamut would know, she speaks the language often."

And so the first idea had come about and the wise men sat quietly listening to the vibrations of the tree while Kahe'eme and Anastasio left to bring Sea Hamut.  It was said that Sea Hamut was the first to step foot onto the the land and be taught the ancient language from the sun who had told her "Go now and be fruitful. Live with the earth and not off of it, show respect to my kingdom and you will never know sickness, you will never know what is to die."

Sea Hamut welcomed her people and urged them to spread forth and enjoy the bounties that the Sun God had to offer. Springing forth from the fertile plains and blessed by golden rays of sunshine came crops yielding maize, wheat, and tobacco and provided the Surem their sustenance. In return the Surem cared for the land as if it were human and carefully tended to its needs. The relationship between them brought out a deep understanding of agriculture and the people became experts in farming. In the beginning Sea Hamut spoke often to the sun but over time their conversations diminished and the earth began to spread its influence teaching its own language to the Surem causing the ancient words to be lost and forgotten. But Sea Hamut remembered and joined Kahe'eme and Anastasio at the tree to interpret the vibrations.

Sea Hamut closed her eyes and allowed the tree to speak. It did not take long for the tree to respond and give itself a great shutter. With eyes full of fear Sea Hamut revealed the message, "The great tree says the end of the Surem is upon us." A gasp throughout the group of wise men. "Savage invaders will encroach on our land and disrupt the unity of our people. These invaders will yield agricultural changes as well as changes to our culture." A bigger and final shutter from the tree. "This is inevitable."

Upon hearing the message the wise men hurriedly returned to their respective rancherias and forwarded the tree's words. Wide spread fear ensued and many Surem returned to the ocean so that their fate was not controlled by the savage invaders. The Sun God saw the cowardice in the Surem as they fled and grew irate turning them into various animals. Those who maintained their strength became defensive and their hunting tools became instruments of war. No longer were they people of peace, they had lost their way and the Sun God would continue to the watch over them but no longer give immortality. The Surem were dead, and those that remained became the Yaqui.

Kehe'eme once again found himself to be a pioneer of change when the two Jesuits left their small boat and walked onto the land. Never before had Kahe'eme laid eyes on such a peculiar people, the Jesuits had been thinking the same. Their skin was fair, their hands were without blisters and callus, and their bodies lacked the ceremonial makings and piercings. They wore long brown cotton robes with a chord made of horse hair wrapped around their waist. Unlike the Yaqui, the Jesuits eyes were a beautiful blue and looked upon the land hungrily and plotted the native's future demise.

"Are you the savage invaders we have been warned of?" Kahe'eme was the first to speak.

But the Jesuits were confused at the foreign language and eyed him closely. Neither of the two knew the intentions of the young dark skinned native and so approached him apprehensively. "We come in the spirit of Jehova, the creator." But again the language barrier prevented any understanding.

The Jesuits were lead to the wise men of the rancheria, but once again only Sea Hamut was expected to interpret. Kahe'eme and Anastasio remained close by when the two missionaries spoke to the old woman. "Who is Jehova?" Was her response.

"Jehova is the creator, our one true God."

"Why have you strayed so far from your God?" Clearly the peculiar facets of the Jesuits represented a different God of a differing world.

"God is with us always, he is our guide and the enforcer of good and justice."

"You need your god to enforce goodness?" The idea seemed farcical when the Yaquis were accustomed to goodness being as natural as the light given to them by the sun.

"How do you enforce justice?" The words lost on even Sea Hamut. "What is done when one of your people acts against the interest of others?"

But the Yaqui had no conception of such acts. Anastasio being naive thought nothing of what the Jesuits were saying and thus feared not what their presence entailed. Kahe'eme though was not so aloof and saw the poison in their words. The ears of his people were very receptive, and the idea of acting against ones own people entered their understanding. The seeds of unrest and dissolution of their unity were planted in the same words intended to the do the opposite.

"We are people of the sun, and hold this land very near to our hearts." Sea Hamut spoke the words with conviction. The Jesuits understood the intended weight to her comment but felt themselves to be much smarter and could manipulate the simple minded natives.

"We respect your culture completely, we only wish to support and educate your people."

But the Yaqui conviction of peace and respect for nature by no means lead to the assertion that they were any less intelligent. Sea Hamut could see that the Jesuits looked upon them as savages, but saw an opportunity to improve the well being of her people through the education that they offered.

"We are humbled by your kindness." Sea Hamut smirked knowing perfectly well she had played into the hands of the foreigners. Little did she know the open door would cause the fall of her people and the destruction of the Yaqui.

At first it was only the two Jesuits that visited the rancherias carrying tools and speaking of technology that the Yaqui had no idea of. They explained how their crops were massive and yielded a much higher return. Better irrigation techniques were implemented and healthier more successful seeds were planted. As the Jesuits passed on their knowledge of farming they also taught the Yaqui the 'civil' language all the while whispering tales of their God. Everything was in terms of their God rather than giving the earth the deserved respect. When Kehe'eme would mention the Sun God the Jesuits would cringe and often request to aid in saving his soul.

Within a week many of the Yaqui from weakness had assimilated to the new religion. Kehe'eme and Anastasio remained strong though against the growing faith as well as other Yaqui who had remembered the tree's forewarning. Slowly the Jesuits began bringing more missionaries to the point where there was as much as twenty at one time. Numbers of the converted began to grow as the Jesuits become more successful at spreading their faith. Seeing the large number of Yaqui acquiescing so readily to the invaders filled Kehe'eme with doubt for the strength of his tribe. The animals had stopped speaking and the earth ceased to yield it's secrets and the Sun God saw his people straying form the path.

"Sea Hamut, what is to become of our people?" Kehe'eme in his doubt sought the wisdom of the most wisest.

She had become quite elderly and saw the condition of her health as a punishment for the Yaqui losing their way. "We have been poisoned, we have allowed ourselves this path." A single tear rolled down her cheek. "I allowed them entrance to our land with the expectation that our people would be able to accept their knowledge without losing sight of the truth. But these people are manipulative. They use fear and death to herd people into their way of thinking."

"So what is to become of us?"

"Many will follow them out of fear, out of ignorance. But a time is coming young one, I can see it in their eyes when they look at those who are faithful to the old ways. "

"What do you see?"

"I see fear in there eyes. They fear that we stand to disrupt their conversion. They intend to control the minds of our people so that they can rape our land, and we stand in their way."

"So what will happen to us?" Kehe'eme was rightfully frightened.

"What happens to all weeds that stand as imperfections in there gardens." Sea Hamut stared upwards towards the sun. "I have heard my final message." Kehe'eme listened closely. "With you the Sun God ends." Without warning Sea Hamut turned pale white and breathed no more.

The death of Sea Hamut marked an eventful change. The Jesuits capitalized on the moral of the resistors and one day the missionaries brought with them a group of a hundred men covered in metal and armed with weapons the like that the Yaqui had never seen. While words of the Jesuits proclaimed they were peaceful, their presence seemed anything but. Kehe'eme with the help of Anastasio gathered men to stand up against the invaders once and for all. The great tree had warned them of this, turning the tribe of farmers into warriors. Now was the time that they would ensure the privacy of their land and the Sun God would would retake his rightful place. The Sun God smiled upon their futile attempts and was pleased.

It was a complete shock when Kehe'eme and his group attacked the invaders. With poison tipped arrows, sharpened hatchets, spears and rock slings the group of natives attacked without mercy. But the invaders were well aimed and their weapons sharper and more efficient at killing. The battle was quick but ended with the Jesuits and their army fleeing. Kehe'eme had achieved a great success in pushing out the invaders, but suffered greatly in the Yaqui that had died. Some who had converted saw Kahe'eme's strength and felt inspired, coming back to the traditional system. Even those that wished to remain under the new faith felt their land was in danger and so pledged their allegiance to Kahe'eme.

The next day only one Jesuit returned and wished only to speak to Kahe'eme, the elected war leader. "You have turned against us and Jehova."

"Jehova may be your god, but he is not mine. I will not allow you or Jehova to take what is rightfully ours."

"This is all Jehova's land, he created it."

"Do not take me as such a fool to attribute the perfection of my world to your silly god. Know this, we will only release our land to you in death. Do not return." And with that Kahe'eme excused himself and had the Jesuit return to his home.

Joyous were the Yaqui when Kahe'eme had shown great strength. Great fear though consumed the morning that the invaders returned in greater numbers and were not looking for conversation. The Yaqui though were ready and also stood with more fighters, prepared to take an on their enemies. It was the invaders who initiated the fight but Kahe'eme returned the blow with great force. The foreign invaders could  not dare to imagine how powerful the Yaqui resistance was, even against their superior weapons. Once again Kahe'eme suffered great losses but was able to turn the enemy away.

Despite yet another loss the invaders made another attempt, though this time under the cover of darkness where there sun did not reign.  There were some Yaqui sympathetic to the invaders and late one evening granted a group of assassins access to Kahe'eme as he slept. Caught in a heavy slumber there was not much that he could do to defend himself. Kahe'eme was brutally beaten to near death. When nothing more could be done he was beheaded and with his blood the assassins wrote on the wall, "And so endeth the Sun God." And all of the Yaqui could see that they had lost.

Anastasio grew in rage and brought together a war party and struck against the invaders. In their attempt the party was defeated and Anastasio captured. All the Yaqui gathered around as Anastasio was hung and saw the death of the old ways. The Sun God looked upon the creatures before him and could see not the remains of the Surem. The Yaqui had been defeated but maintained their resolve. The people would adapt and change accordingly with time, and as always those resistant would find it fatal. And so endeth the Sun God.


C.R.

Temporary Elation

This day was different. It was relieving to experience a weather pattern other than the sweltering heat of the arid desert. Caleb sat upon a stone  bench curved into the shape of the letter 'U'. The bench was constructed of a mixture of rounded pebbles and angular stones cast into a hard cement mix. The seats were white and solid stone with no cushioning. This particular bench that supported Caleb's increasingly sore buttocks resided underneath a large and well aged oak tree that graciously allowed it's canopy to stretch forward like an umbrella and offer shelter to the space below it. Usually the reliable canopy became a haven for those desperately seeking shade for the sun's intense rays, but today with an overcast sky it became a shelter from the rain. Asserting that the gloomy sky was grey is no exaggeration for the whole campus seemed to be engulfed in the sky's mood, the people reacting accordingly in both fashion and states of their minds. Some risked the chance for a heavy downpour and still adorned colorful shorts and that would not prove to be protective in the event that they were wrong, but so far they were not.

Instead of a torrential downpour that most who had decided to hide themselves inside cozy sweatshirts and heavy jackets expected, a consistent light drizzle was all that came forth from the dense layer of clouds above. The drizzle was nice, especially underneath the protective canopy of the oak tree. By no means was the beautiful sturdy oak under-maintained and so though the foliage caught most of the light rain every once in a while a single drop still cold from the chilly morning air would come down and land upon the bench. Caleb sat motionless in between small sips of his mocha cappuccino watching as people walked by. Caleb allowed his mind to wonder mindlessly observing but completely absorbed within the confines of his thoughts. 'What' he frequented mentally was not as appropriate as 'who' frequently dominated  the obsessive qualities of his imagination.  To add to the elation of her presence within his head Caleb had just walked out of a mid-term for a class he had been extremely nervous about and was confidently stepping with a strut and air of utter and complete success. Waiting to occupy his time for the rest of the day was a series of good friends, all of whom had contributed to the intense happiness he currently felt.

Some time ago, perhaps years, Caleb had felt this way but in between was no laughing matter. Depression, anger and a whole lot of self loathing ruled over that time period with a heavy iron fist. With no empathy or consideration for Caleb's well being the fist had done a considerable amount of damage on the mental well being of the young mind that already was not in the best state. The damage done was irreversible, but the extent of his current joy made the difference in levels significant, so much so that as Caleb sat and reflected upon his life and the current joy he felt his eyes began to swell and the urge to tear up filled him. These tears though were not a product of the sadness but of the supreme serenity and lifted state of being.

"Soak it up." Caleb told himself as he also began to reflect upon his studies of Buddhism. Everything in the existence of the known universe is subject to change and subservient to the stubborn master that is time. Absolutely everything is subject to change as Caleb was sure he too was.  More so than than any organic or otherwise molecular structure being subject to the harsh reality of change is suffering and joy. Caleb was well aware that what he was currently feeling was too temporary especially given the fact that his suffering still seemed fresh in his memory. But no matter the current state equilibrium was impossible because even the master that is time served the God of chaos.

Chaos birthed the universe and all we see before it, but since that miraculous moment of conception reality seems to constantly fluctuate between order to disorder. Creation, being the state in between initial and eventual chaos, is analogous to the creation of suffering or joy in the sense that suffering turns to joy in the form created endorphins. In the end though there will always be nothing, the cessation of creation, just as there was nothing before. But the balance is never set, nothing is forever, not even the vast emptiness that is the essence of chaos. There is always a fluctuation between order and chaos just as the balance between suffering and joy is never constant.

Caleb reflected upon all of this all the while continuing his autonomous sips and mindless observations of the physical world around him. Still the elation that became energy within him was intense but looked upon as only temporary so Caleb for once allowed an emotion, that emotion, to be completely embraced. His heart beat faster with the thought of his female interest, his confidence boasted by the success of his scholarly endeavors, and his self boosted by the amount of companionship he had felt for his friends. Caleb loved this feeling and allowed it to take him over but keeping in mind that it was not going to last forever.  This realization was not depressing though because he was convinced that he only truly understood what he was feeling because of his past experiences of suffering and so he was grateful. Despite those who passed by none had noticed the single tear escape from his eye and his successful attempt to remove it.

A Whispering Wind

Perhaps counterfeit,
A whispering wind
carries upon it
hope with no chagrin.

An ear to listen
but a heart to hear.
The wind's addiction,
the deaf man's fear.

Nostalgia, the breeze,
the kiss on my face,
whispering of trees
and swaying in place.

A wind from due south,
A wind from far north.
From the dragon's mouth
to you coming forth.

From her torrent sound
whisking me about,
I have lost my ground,
my hope lost in doubt.

You blow me away
and leave but my heart.
And I fear to stay,
it tears me apart.

I fear to move on
from her gentle blow
but you bring upon
a message you know.

Now my words impart
a secret held close
to this weary heart
and under your nose.

You have inspired
the wind to carry
a love transpired
so sweet, so scary

The Crow

Pitch black feathers that consume the surrounding light, glass eyes and a pale yellow beak, scale talons with scorched and callused bottoms; the crow sat with a slightly turned head and stared deeply into Caleb's eyes. He was washed up on shore and a product of a failed endeavor. The crow stared deeply within and Caleb heard a mysterious voice echo inside his head but it was completely inaudible due to being buried beneath its muffled sound. Still the words were heard and the meaning understood. Caleb climbed to his feet but the crow did not move and instead closely studied his every move. Both were at the bottom of a pebbly bank touching the cold muddy brown river water. In front was a large grassy hill that supported one edge of the steel bridge and the complete path of the weathered and cracked road of the desert highway.

Caleb reached the top of the hill and found his vehicle sitting exactly where he had left it, the crow nowhere to be found. The car was a beautiful white cutlass sierra, a Cadillac Oldsmobile manufactured in the spring of  '97. Inside upholstery was a blue felt and the dash a course plastic. The passenger window was stuck down and could not be rolled up, the lining on the ceiling seemed to have lost its hold and drooped down towards the center. Dirt and dust sat in a thick layer on the dash against the cracked tinted window-shield. When Caleb switched gears the indicator was always off by one so it always seemed set on the preceding setting. His horn only worked by completing the connection between a pivoting wire rod and the metal board in the center of the steering wheel. This car was beaten and poorly maintained yet always provided a reliable sense of transportation. Caleb had named her 'Yolanda', and once again she had brought him safely home. A brief moment was needed before he could exit the car and return to the misery that was his life. But the crow was right and so Caleb exited Yolanda and made his way through the flagstone pathway that sat on top of the well landscaped St.Augustine grass. The door was unlocked and as soon as it was open the smell of a cooking dinner entered his nostrils. Caleb did not have to guess, every night it was the same: chicken breast, white rice and ranch styled beans. It never changed because her tastes never changed.

Caleb was still soaking wet when he tracked mud on the white linoleum carpet on his way to the kitchen. He sat down at the oak wood dinner table and stared off into the light. Eleanoria was still cooking but as soon as Caleb entered her sight she flew into a rage. Caleb remained stoic as the anger directed at him came forth and invigorated the emphasis of the crow's message. Eleanoria hated that he never expressed his emotions and would purposefully abuse him verbally in order to coax a reaction out of him. Understandably she was upset about the mess tracked in and Caleb's soaking wet clothes that was dripping muddy water onto the light blue tile floor. Even when pressed for an explanation Caleb could not answer, he could not be honest with her which she knew and had hated him for. Fed up with a one way argument Eleanoria served Caleb his hastily made dinner and with a turn of a cold shoulder she retired to the bedroom. 

The chicken was slightly blackened and the meat still moist from the steam. As usual the rice was over done and sat in a pile of mush against the still steaming hot beans. Caleb always ate in rotation so that the three portions were reduced equally. The beans were always left alone but the rice was lightly dressed with Worcestershire sauce and the chicken cut into pieces and dipped into a puddle of Tapatio hot sauce. Caleb finished the meal satisfied in his hunger but unsatisfied in the monotony. He left his plate and silverware at the table and simply just got up.  The bedroom was to be avoided so he made his way to the backyard. Like most addicts Caleb had a ritual and stuck to it religiously. 

First the green leafy substance was broken up and put into a black pipe crucible that had been separated from its body and inserted into an orange Gatorade bottle cap. The bottle had a small hole burned into the bottom that Caleb plugged with his finger as he filled the container with water from the spigot. Carefully the cap was screwed on and the substance lit with a lighter while allowing the water to flow out and onto the white rocks below. A cloud of white smoke filled the plastic bottle as the water completely emptied out and just after Caleb unscrewed the cap and put his lips to the bottle breathing in deeply. As usual he tilted his head backwards and held in his breath clenching his eyes shut. The stress in his lungs grew more intense and just as he felt a light head come on he released the smoke and opened his eyes. The high was intense and caused his head to feel heavy and his eyes to turn red. This time though as Caleb opened them he found them resting upon the black crow staring back at him underneath the pale light poorly emitted from a sick moon. 

Slowly the voice grew in his head until it got so loud that Caleb retreated to the safety of his home. Hoping Eleanoria had fallen asleep Caleb went to his bedroom and found his suspicion to be true. She lay on her side of the bed with her back turned towards the door. Darkness filled the room except for a thin strip of light that escaped from the plastic blinds. The pale light gently illuminated her figure beneath the brown comforter. Caleb made his way to her side and watched over her. Her breaths were light and her chest gently moved back and forth. She was so beautiful but beneath the surface lay a monster, disrespectful, impugning, proficient in the art of passive verbal warfare, emotionally unstable and borderline crazy; yet he loved her. Despite all of her many flaws there was no doubt the intensity of his love covered every atom that comprised of her. But he felt a divide forming between them and feared he was losing her and at the same time feared the misery entailed with loving her. 

Eleanoria did not stir due to his presence but did slightly shift her body and let out a long sigh. Across the room next to the door sat the crow on top of a varnished wood dresser. Looking back and forth from Eleanoria to Caleb the crow remained deadly silent and completely still. A tension filled the room and Caleb's heart beat incredibly fast. Adrenaline rushed through his body and Caleb moved his hands towards Eleanoria's neck. She slowly began to wake as his grip became stronger around her throat. Quickly she reacted to the danger she was in and began fighting off Caleb. Any attempt to scream for help was lost beneath his increasingly strong stranglehold. Eleanoria was a nervous nail biter and could not claw her way out, neither could she overpower his incredible strength. And despite the amount of power already exhibited Caleb searched himself for even more. Her eyes grew red with blood and eventually she lost what strength she had and gave into the struggle. The whole fight did not last long. Caleb looked for the crow but it was gone and in its place only a dark shadow remained. Eleanoria lay perfectly still, her skin a pale white and a look of terror on her lifeless face. 

Caleb left the bedroom and took his seat on the brown recliner in front of his living room television. Heart still racing and the adrenaline still coursing through him Caleb lost himself in his high and he replayed the events in his head. On the screen were a series of acts with an explicit nature. The intensity of the rush he felt! How amazing it was to control the fate of a persons life, to hold in hand the decision to either give peace and life or the sweet softness of death. Caleb had decided and was pleased with his decision. This would be the second time time his hands would bring him great pleasure. The night could not end yet though because unfinished business remained. 

The next day eventually came though and in their cul-de-sac a chili cook off commenced. Just the night before Eleanoria had prepared an amazing Texas style chili. Caleb only made slight adjustments before taking his wife's chili to the prepared stand. By midday all of the stands were stocked and the street was flooded with contestants and onlookers. It was not a steady flow but many had come by and taken a bowl of Eleanorias prepared chili. All enjoyed the taste of the dish and insisted that Caleb give Eleanoria their regards. High above the street sitting on the top of a lamp post was the crow. The beak was slightly parted to reveal human teeth and the crow seemed to be smiling. Caleb laughed at the sight and the onlookers were curious as to the hysteria, perhaps it was his soaking wet clothes. The crow stared over to Caleb and began cackling but never winning the attention of the crowd. And Caleb laughed even harder because he too understood that his attempt was anything but unsuccessful.

C.R.

Caged

For the past few minutes I have sat completely silent and completely still watching my pet hamster desperately attempt to gnaw at the cold aluminum cage. His teeth are not nearly a match for the hard metal, at most he could do is chip away at the yellow paint and even in that regard he struggles. When finally he gives up he retreats to the corner as if to contemplate another idea. Finally coming to some epiphany the hamster furiously digs away at the wood chips beneath him and clear to the bottom of the translucent green plastic. I do not know for how long but he clawed at that solid floor gaining absolutely no progress. He even proceeded to climb the metal cage and begin clawing at the purple plastic top. Such a desperate attempt at freedom was quite striking to witness.

This whole thing proceeds to repeat itself for what feels like an hour, again no progress is made. The sad reality is that this is not the first occurrence. Every day for the same amount of time this small animal attempts to escape. He hits the exact same points for the same amount of time. But he will never escape, the cage is his prison and his home. Still though he  tries but the fate is always the same and he will continue his pointless attempts up until the day he dies.

Sometimes I wonder if there is a human soul within him, a person of an evil nature forced to spend his next life as a hamster. Perhaps that is why he tries to bite me every time I stick my hand in his cage. I don't blame him though, that fate would be terrible. For the rest of his life he will be confined to this terribly colored cage that will sit upon the same counter in the same room and under the ownership of me, his god-devil. I say that because without me he would not be fed, hydrated, sheltered and protected from the exposure to danger. In the same act of kindness I also show him hell through the same brand of food fed to him day after day with no change willing to initiate within. He will drink tap water for the rest of his life and only have it replenished when I see that it is getting low.

What drives this small creature to get up every day with a new strength to try again? Does he remember the utter failure of the life before him? But I cannot let you go dear friend! You would surely die at the hands of some predator, most likely a cat from next door. You were born and raised in a nursery until you came to sit upon my counter, how would know how to survive out there? But he does not think about what he would do because that is so far out of reach he has no sense of it. All he knows is to escape and as sad as it may seem he will never see the fulfillment of his mission. He will not only die here, but he will die here with disappointment. And I? I will move on, probably get another hamster and he will be forgotten. How tragic.

At times I can empathize with his pain for I too feel confined to my world. Do not get me wrong, the earth is full of amazing sites to be seen but that is not what I desire. I do not wish to see a world that has already been seen. I want to drift among the stars and galaxies, seeing the far reaches of space. Just like the hamster I do not wish to be confined to the present, I every day by means of my education desperately attempt to break free from this prison of ignorance. I must escape and only through knowledge can I break free from my cage. Only through expanding my mind and my capabilities can I refuse the monotony and ask why. Unlike the hamster I have the amazing ability to be cognitive. I learn and adapt and seek my escape not by clawing at the plastic or turning my back but by analyzing the strength of the material and the optimal way to manipulate that material's properties to my advantage.

Being human in that regard is a perk, but still I see the members of my own species resign to accept their existence. They have willingly allowed themselves to continue their life of ignorance. Do they not see the autonomy in their conformity? Ignorance and stupidity are the weapons of the powerful to impugn the weak. How skillful they were in their enterprise for watch how the people acquiesce to them in droves! No need to trick and remain subtle, nowadays people are begging to join the cult. Like hamsters all of them! These are the ones content with the hard tap water and monotony of their lives. These are the ones that refuse to question their realities. They are content because they are told they are content. But I wont. I will not be content with my reality because I am intent on escaping. I will unravel the secrets of the universe, I will uncover unimaginable reaches and bear witness to the beauty of space as it is before my own eyes. The stars will dance with me among the far reaches of space. The different chemicals burning in the hearts of stars create a light show that extends in an infinite distance in infinite directions. Distant explosions echo through the vacancies and bring forth a wave of force. Millions, nay trillions and more atoms are spread throughout the universe in every direction. The very building blocks to make life are birthed right before my eyes and with this scene I am not content, I am happy.

I do not think that the hamster requires internal strength to desperately escape. He is just an animal with a small brain, I doubt he even remembers the previous day. Maybe in the sense of certain neurological retainers like smell and taste but he is stupid and does not formulate the type of thoughts humans do. Still there is no doubt that his suffering is terrible. Besides the point that he is probably not even aware he is suffering, the very idea of his existence is terrible. To forever live in his prison confined to a defined volume and a way of living sounds like hell. It is hell. Only getting fresh water when I deem necessary and even worse having to live out his existence alone without a companion, what hell! I have willingly allowed this creature to suffer this terrible fate simply because I have decided that any alternate reality for him would be worse. I, a kind and cruel master, decides his fate. Even God gave man free will, the right to live and die by ones one decisions, but I am not as benevolent as God. Do you see it? Do you see the contradiction though between our relationships? I can always come to one conclusion, can you see where it leads?

C.R.

Shakespearean Twist

You inspire me and it all started with your eyes, a beautiful blue that not even God could duplicate. They are your own, and through them you peered into my soul. I was not ready for them to break me so easily yet I was not opposed to their attraction.  You sat across the table from me, flicking a "Bic" lighter on and off coming in and out of view. Even through the darkness your piercing blue eyes shimmered like starlight. A dancing flame for one ephemeral moment brought attention that you were staring directly to me and bringing light to your face, porcelain white against the dark shadows. Could you see me staring back as you looked past the conversation going on around us and directly at me?

We made eye contact through the flickering flame for just a moment. Either you were embarrassed or you were sending me a message because you let a small smirk escape. So warming and and thrilling, my heart began beating faster. A slight rush at first but later it would become an infection of my mind. I could not close my eyes without seeing you in the shadow smiling back at me.  I constantly wondered why I could not forget your eyes, the way that you looked through me and not just at me. You completely saw through all of my walls and emotional shells, you saw the raw pain and emotion that existed within and with one warming smile you found a way to distract me from all of my worries. I thought I had died and gone to heaven, but as you continued to stare back at me I realized that I had not died and that in fact heaven was brought to me through you.

What were you looking for? Understand me correctly when I say that I became addicted to your stare. When you let your small smirk and glance direct it's influence my way, I felt a high unparalleled to anything tangible. To be honest most of my earlier appearances were solely motivated to just catch your look, it was very selfish. I was constantly coming up with ways to attract your attention and keep you as involved as possible. It was all for your eyes, all for the feeling of basking in the aura of your supreme beauty. As I got to know you, study your quirks, I found a person within you that made me truly happy to be around. Your smile was now simply the window into what I found within you and it was glorious. All past convictions occurring the opposite sex seemed lost. You proved them all wrong. What I thought could never exist now willingly allowed me to stare back into it's eyes and attempt to unlock your soul.  The feeling was amazing. I had not felt that amount of happiness in a very long time. And you inspired so much, giving me the confidence to step up and better myself, to initiate a change. A literal transformation of the self.

I feel confident that it was you though who inspired this change. For a long time I was going no where. I was shut down and shut out from feeling anything. I needed your enlightenment. I had already found the path but it was befallen with darkness. How could I have emerged without your illumination? Never before had I asked myself questions so revealing and raw. How was it that your eyes could incite such an internal revolution?

I was afraid of putting this on paper, because now it is real, now it is a truth I must embrace. Like all things though it not simple and romantic. Edgar Allen Poe, John Steinbeck, and even Shakespeare saw an element of life that most turned away from. What did they see? They saw the harsh realities of life. In their stories the main character was not always guaranteed a happy ending. Often they died or lived a life of unrequited love. There is beauty in their works because it brings to the imagination a picture of true life. Many times the concepts they play around with spend their existence simply in the far hidden sections of the mind. They put words to the harsh realizations, they broke free from the monotonous fairy tale picturesque fantasies. They knew the truth, that life is tragic and cold. So why should love be any different?

I wonder if my fascination for your eyes blinded a truth that was right in front of me. Please believe me that I say this with pure sincerity  and born from a simple frustration at the the confusion, your words are cryptic. They take me on a roller coaster of excitement. Once I am convinced you are trying to tell me something, hint at the way you feel about me you completely steer in the other direction. Obviously you are not interested which is completely understandable given your situation. But a second later you are building me back up to a false inclination. You provided very specific similarities to keep an eye out for, similarities that you know we share. Then you pressed the denial of something right in front of my eyes. Were you trying to tell me something? When you said I need to find that person where a conversation can be fluidly had as late as 4 o' clock in the morning, did you realize we had been talking all through the night and it was 4 o' clock in the morning? Again you pressed the fact that I could be missing out on the greatest thing of my life, something right in front of me. "Sometimes you will just find love,"you lectured to me,"you don't like it, you don't want it but you feel it. And you will be missing out on the greatest experience of your life if you hide away from it."  You seemed frustrated, as if maybe you were feeling something, you didn't want to but you do.

Now the harsh reality. Now the Shakespearean twist. It does not matter how comfortable I am around you, or how great of a person I think you are. It does not matter that I have for once found some one I truly want to be around. It does not matter that I have already found that one person you were explaining that I need. But if all my previous inferences are wrong and you feel nothing, you have no how idea how truly tragic this is.  So you tell me what I need in a woman, and unknown to you you are explaining yourself. I can see that clearly, can you not? You tell me to go after it like an objective in Risk, but it is not that simple. Do you know who you are? You tell me to not deny love and that if I feel it then I need to put myself out there and go for it. Oh, if you knew the tragedy that is boiling beneath the surface. Do you know who you are? If you do then you would understand why I must continue my solitude. 

Nothing shall ever be said of my feelings and that kills me. It makes me feel even more alone because now that we have established a great friendship, how could I ever separate myself from you? I am fated to exist in this constant silent obsession. Nothing will ever break my will though, I will always be the shoulder and the ear that you need. When you need some one to keep you company late at night because you feel lonely, I will always be willing to sit with you. And when you look at me you will always be ignorant to the true meaning behind my stare.A secret that will be brought to the grave. I only wrote this to show that I too possess the ability to allow love to trump logic yet some how a logical approach was needed to find acceptance in my fate. With harsh realities and Shakespearean love, logic and reason is the only safe harbor. Do not traverse the depths of feelings in the turbulent sea of love when you can sit safely atop a logically built boat, alone but safe.

C.R.

Teenage Angst

Rock and roll is as necessary to my life as the blood that pumps through my veins. It is my opinion that rock is the best style of music in our modern time. No other genre can compete. Respect is much deserved for those who possess the ability to play in a rock band. A perfect collaboration with your brothers in war is needed and often being non-verbal. Signature changes and volume control is simply based on how well each musician understands their contributors. A constant ebb and flow of fast paced melodies built from the imagination alone.

The drummer establishes a steady beat often adding short fills of an extra snare or the pedals kicking the drum and dropping the hi-hat; occasionally a drum roll through the toms is stuck in between phrases and kicks off the next one with the crash of his cymbal. He is in complete control of the tempo and drive of the sound, with the bassist working in line with his melody. Behind the dark tone of the song is the bassist in his heavy sound and even heavier strokes. Breaking free from his own melody the guitarist escapes the structured rhythm and begins improvising. His fingers are working with one hundred percent efficiency as they climb up and down the neck with almost no resistance. Complicated fills are being performed through bends, hammer-ons and pull-offs, tremolo picking and the extensive use of vibrato. Completely in tune with his guitar the fingers know where to go based solely on instinct, and a perfect knowledge of the rosewood neck and how the nickel wound strings resonate through the body. While performing these complex maneuvers he is skillfully crafting it around his own created rhythm and at the same time casting forth dark undertones of an almost satanic nature.

To play rock and roll effectively the player must be prepared to completely bare his soul. The instrument is a clear window to the inner most secrets of the self. Listen as the guitar cries! Listen closely to the dark sound of E minor right before its flawless transition to A minor where a couple of strings are picked on the way back up to a heartwarming G chord, only to return to the dark pit of the E minor. All the while the guitarist is clenching his eyes shut, not needing his eyes for his heart is sufficient. The tone is set by his intensity of the strums, the time he lingers on a single note and the strain in his voice as he forces out incomprehensible lyrics.

My earliest memory of rock and roll was watching my father play with his friends in the garage of our house in whatever state we were living in at the time.  Before I could even read I could lay down a steady beat on my dark blue pearl drum set for my father as he played his guitar. When I was in second grade my musical interests comprised of Fear Factory, the Offspring, the Butt-hole Surfers and the Red Hot Chile Peppers. But no other band had had the effect on me that Nirvana did. Something about their grungy and dark sound enthralled me. There was something hidden deep within Kurt Cobain's lyrics that resonated within me, influencing me before I was even of the mental capacity to understand the symbolism. Rock and roll has a heavy impact on an impressionable child living in poverty. As Kurt Cobain voiced his frustrations about life I was struggling to comprehend my own. At the time I could not dare to know, but I understand now that I too was angry. I was angry that we had returned to cock-roach infested motel rooms around southern California as places to live. I was angry that my mother had lied to me, told me things were going to get better when it only ever got worse. Even more so I was mad at God. Kurt Cobain was my god.  In the sixth grade I once tried to turn in a paper about why Kurt Cobain was my hero. I was forced to redo it because I was told that a drugged up suicidal rock star could not be a child's hero. I fought for the topic of the paper but I lost. I ended up writing about J.R.R. Tolkien instead.

One summer even the motel rooms became too expensive and my family was forced spend it in a cheap tent. We listened to "In Utero" on the way to the first campsite of a very long summer. My father was usually working, trying his hardest to bring us up and out of poverty. My mother was tasked to tend to us all day at the campsites, building and tearing down the tent and organizing the trips to and from the next site. As a twelve year old boy of three sisters, emotions were not acceptable. My father had made it very clear that crying was not for the men to do, and that I had to be strong for my sisters and mother. A lot of pressure  for a young kid to handle. But through Nirvana I had found my source of serenity. Through Cobain's angst I was able to suppress my own. Often my sister's and I would argue in the car about what we should listen to, Amy Grant or Nirvana. I was not the only one to struggle through that period, my whole family seemed to suffer their own internal war. My sisters and mother sought faith to ease their frustrations, I found rock and roll. I remember waiting in the car while they were in the church finishing up some service so that they could attend the food bank line thereafter. While the the preacher inside was filling their heads with mythological bullshit I was in the car carefully dissecting the lyrics of a Nirvana song with my father, "In Bloom". Whenever we would pray before dinner I would close my eyes and sing "Pennyroyal Tea" to myself, my favorite Nirvana song. Kurt Cobain held my respect even before God. Rock and roll had provided for me an opportunity to actually give in to my angst. It allowed me to sing the songs with the same tenacity and passion allowing me to tap into an addicting energy. I think Frank Turner put it best in his song "I still Believe":

"...I still believe in the sound

that has the power

to raise a temple and tear it down.

And I still believe in the need

for guitars and drums and desperate poetry.

I still believe that everyone 

can find a song for every time they've lost

and every time they've won..."

C.R.

The Path

This road is not without sacrifice. It is not without pain or disappointment. There is no guarantee that it can even be successfully traversed. Many have tried it, even more have failed. The cobblestone path is not well defined and the rocks that are composed of it are not smooth or pretty. Some loosely sit on top of the sandy earth and slip away underneath the treading foot. Jagged edges scrape against the pants and no foothold is completely stable, though every step must be made in complete confidence for the weak will always fall. Some will walk this path and never find the end. Others will find the end but forget the path. At every turn there is uncertainty. The winding path often becomes difficult to travel and may even reach a dead end. Small successes become great triumphs and great triumphs may just be the next step forward. Love will be lost, friends will disappear, family may turn their back and self doubt will rear it's ugly face. Happiness will be hard pressed to find. It takes an incredible amount of strength and courage to undertake it's path. Great intelligence and determination is necessary for navigation. But only through sacrifice will one see the end. There is no going back either for the fall is mighty and should one turn their attention away the road would consume them. Caleb took this road.

The other road is lined intricately with white brick and colorful mosaics. Flora and fauna grow in harmony with the straight road and the end is easily reached. No challenges of worth present themselves and the ease of the sojourn makes internal growth impossible.  No need for hard work or self improvement. There is no struggle, no hardships and no long term fight for joy. Quick and instant gratification. Why wait for happiness when one could gain it immediately? The road is open to everyone and all, and very rarely do those find its path a difficult endeavor. She took the other road.

At the fork both decided their route. Through everything that preceded they made their way together. They prevailed. But faced with their choices, both made their steps forward. In truth Caleb had made his choice much earlier and lest be consumed he had to continue. Caleb was strong, she was weak. Caleb was brave, she was a coward.

 "A fucking coward!"

Correction: She was a 'fucking coward'. Yes, he surely had to sacrifice.

 "Everything! And yet I continue forward! And for what!?"

For the destination.  For your fate.

"Fuck fate! I am so tired of this! Just sick and tired! I feel chained to this road! The very same road that is supposed to grant me freedom! Freedom from poverty! From Anger! FROM MYSELF! Yet with every step nothing improves. It never gets any better."

Again, self doubt will rear its ugly face. Faith in the path may be lost but never can the sojourner show weakness. Weakness is liable to failure. Every sacrifice made is completely necessary for the traveler's success even though the commitment to such sacrifice will cause disillusionment, sorrow and even increased difficulty.

"It's just too hard!"

Every ounce of anger and frustration now coming through Caleb's tone.

"What is the point of the destination if the road itself will kill me?! I don't even know the destination!"

Of course the destination is unknown Caleb, it changes with every step. And never was there an assurance that it would be easy. It's not easy but nothing worth having ever is. Caleb knew his anger was just a product of his journey now being undertaken alone.

"She is a fucking coward!"

I know Caleb. But her company would bring you down. You were struggling on the way here even, what makes you think you could survive this?

"Love!"

Love? It does not exist on this road. Nothing matters but the end. Everything else is subject to change just as you are Caleb.

"And what do you know of love?"

Your right Caleb, I am but a humble pen but through me a mad writer pours his heart out.

"Well he's full of shit! He claims to know of this road when he himself has yet to complete it!"

You are correct, but who better to convey it's frustrations than one who views it from within. I know you are in pain Caleb.

"I am."

I know you have lost faith.

"I have."

 But strength is required ahead. Failure is not an option. One does not travel this road for it's scenery. There are no pretty side paths that lead through valleys and furtive plains. The ground below you is harsh and uninhabitable. When one reaches the end and looks upon the journey behind them they do not see this. What lies before them is their own strength and a greater appreciation for the struggle. And you will feel empowered because you have become God. You will look upon your triumph with arms raised in a 'V' and shout out 'Success! Finally! I've done it! I've overcome adversity and even myself! I AM HERE!' And your thunderous voice will echo throughout the world and force those who took the other path to look upon their own journey. But what will they see? What will she see?

"Mediocrity."

 Exactly.

"It's what she deserves."

No Caleb, It is what they all deserve.







C.R.

Tyler Lacombe and the F**K Slugs of Xerxes 9

It all started long ago, before the mass exodus and before everything that entailed afterwards. Tyler for many years had grown complacent with his life. School was a cinch, women were like dominoes. There was not much that Tyler could say he had not attempted and been totally awesome in it's execution. It came to a time where Tyler began to search for a great endeavor, one in which the annals of history would sing his name. One night, the inspiration came. Tyler sat in the backyard in the presence of a friend. "I'm bored." Tyler mentioned to his friend who stared up into the night sky.

"Bored? But your life is just so awesome! However could you be bored?"

"Oh I envy your ignorance my handsome naive friend. When one such as I have lived and done it all, the soul yearns for something else...something to make the change in history like Jesus, or Gandhi, or Justin Bieber."

"But what ever will you do?" Asked his friend with a shaky voice, in complete awe of Tyler's greatness.

With a finger stiff and confident Tyler pointed towards the heavens and exclaimed "There! The stars! I shall find my crucifix there, and etch my name into the solid stones of fate!" The words never forgotten, and the journey immediately undertaken. Dropping out of school and leaving all he loved, Tyler walked thousands of miles, only stopping to soak in his own awesomeness. His destination? NASA headquarters. All eyed him as he strutted straight past security personnel and to the head director's office.

"What do you want? Whats the meaning of this?" He was surprised at the confidence emanating from Tyler, and even became quite stimulated.

Tyler only said three words. He pointed to his crotch, "This," pointed upwards "there," and pointed behind him "yesterday."

The director nearly released upon himself. The words so confidently spoken, how could he refuse? So, the mission was planned. Tyler lied on his back and allowed his erection to point his destination. When critics said he was crazy he responded: "Crazy is only when we do not push ourselves to greatness. Even if we are sure to fail, crazy is allowing that assurance to dictate our lives. And bitches...bitches be crazy dude."

It only took a couple of months before NASA launched Tyler into space, unknowing of his destination and what he would do upon his arrival. Tyler had launched with only three possessions: A camera to record his discoveries, A condom to initiate intercourse upon sexual arousal, and a sack of the worlds greatest chronic. Surprisingly before he knew it a pink planet began to take form in the distance and soon Tyler found himself inside its gravitational pull. The planet was bare but full of giant slug people that embraced him with open arms. Both were amazed at the never before seen species, and both stood at the threshold of history: the very first interaction with life outside of earth. When Tyler noticed that they were showing interest in his green sack, Tyler whipped out his piece and loaded a bowl. Never before had these slugs experienced a high as great as this, and in return the people marched out their finest women and allowed for Tyler to take his pick. He did so with no difficulty as every slug looked the same. Using his camera Tyler began not only the first footage of alien life but the first human-alien slug porno. Tyler slid his pants down revealing his sweet package and in the honor of his home, sang his national anthem. As soon as his respect was offered Tyler embraced the slug and began his penetration all the while screaming out his name "Tyler Lacombe! Tyler Lacombe! Tyler Lac..." But something went wrong. The high salinity of his ejaculation caused a release of a terrible virus that shot up his urethra and completely dissolved all of Tyler's Being. The loss of his greatness was definitely a loss to the whole world. Fortunately there was a live feed to NASA who had received the footage.

Because the footage of Tyler's sex death with the slug slut of Xerxes 9 was the only one of their culture, the American public was forced to be made witness of his death. In a matter of an hour the whole world knew of his name and just as he had intended became a household name. There were two things that was clear on the footage: instant death upon ejaculation but just before Tyler portrayed a face of complete ecstasy. It was clear that the climax was the best anyone had ever experienced, and seeing it before their eyes the people of the world wished to follow in his footsteps. Tyler's expedition had paved the way for a mass exodus of people all endeavoring to experience the best sex of their lives but instant death. By the end of the year almost 60% of the worlds population had left and met their maker at the end of their genitals. Threats of war from world leaders rang throughout the world fearing the whole exodus was a plot by the Xerxes 9 people to destroy earth. But the real truth is that people just wanted to have sex. Tyler was a hero and a devil. He was the first to meet alien life, get them high and film a pornographic film with them. A statue of him was built in just about every city, and the question remained through out the world for centuries to come, "would you have sex with an alien slug slut from Xerxes 9 and experience the best sex ever only to die instantly afterwards?" It seems that the world had decided.

Of course all of this would have actually happened but on the eve his departure Tyler had realized he still had homework to do and found himself distracted. Then he was determined to smoke and then leave but just as always instead found himself passed out on the couch.


C.R.

Expectations

Caleb fixed his collar and checked his edges, they always seem to fold up around his waist. It had been a long time since his expectations were as high as they were, despite the red flags that he had seen. What was it that drove him emotionally? He had only two loves in his life and both ended in pain and even still Caleb found himself falling into the pitfalls. Nervousness coursed through him, a good sign. At first the night was supposed to be shared by only himself and her, but she saw it in a different light as she had spread the word and other people were to join. The news was not received as it should have been though. Obviously this girl did not share the same perspective and Caleb should have realized it but foolishly overlooked it. Even when the suspicion rose inside of him he simply pushed it away from the logic of his thoughts and continued his illusion. Often he found himself in a separate reality, it was much easier to deal with. Still though, the meeting time was set and Caleb waited patiently in a strategic location so that any of the people arriving would easily be seen. The time to meet was only minutes after his arrival and so Caleb was sure the wait would not be very long.

The table was just out front of an ice cream shop where numerous couples sat and enjoyed each others company. He missed that dynamic. His last relationship ended bitterly and still he struggled to get over it and having the company of his friends was gonna help, it was just a matter of waiting. Still, Caleb's greatest weakness was his own mind. For some reason whenever his time went idle, his thoughts began to race and conduct their destruction. He had his own flaws as well that fueled his destructive mind. Often he found himself upset, or depressed and instead of dealing with them in a healthy manner he would instead find ways to run as far as he could away from them. At first it was done through music and writing, but as he matured so did his conduits for abandonment. Alcohol, drugs, and self deprecation became the preferred outlets. Caleb was the type of guy who often loaded his plate with more than he could handle, he would also tend to put aside his own happiness for his ironic pursuit of happiness. Losing his love was a difficult situation to handle, and in the wake of the loss Caleb threw himself into his preferred outlets and found himself drowning in intoxication. He easily found success in work and school but love is where he always struggled and now being in the market once again he felt stranded. Still this opportunity with a new girl excited him and filled him with great expectations. She was beautiful and very intelligent. Knowing he was vulnerable Caleb ignored his internal warnings and sat with patience for the her and everyone else to show up.

An hour went by of being surrounded by happy couples and families walking up and down the marketplace. Surrounded by joy and joviality, Caleb felt abandoned and upset. Finally he got up from his strategic seat and walked the front of the meeting place and a pit formed in his stomach. Obviously his friends and her had arrived but had made their way in without him. It was the last thing he needed, and the emotion pulled him strongly. And as he walked out giving up on the expectations he had learned a lesson that he would never forget. In everyone's lives there are certain experiences that shape and mold based off of what happens and how we deal with it. The first he had ever realized the coldness of women was from a red headed young flame. She was his first love, and he adored her so. Just as he began to feel confident in their love she raised their hands when embraced and grimaced. "Do you feel that?" She asked.

Caleb could not figure out what she was trying to hint at. "No?"

"The spark? Theres no spark anymore."

Wait, what is she trying to say? "The spark? What do you mean?"

"I just don't feel that connection anymore."

Minutes later she broke up with him, and the next day she was with some one else. The pain was intense, his first love and his first real emotional loss. The next love would be more intense, and the loss even more painful. For years they had been together, the dirty blonde and him, and when he had needed her most instead she left. The lesson he learned from her? Love can be fickle. But this was a new pain. There was no relationship prior to being friends, but the new found interest gave him a shred of happiness which was more than he was accustomed to. Because the joy felt so great, and the expectations brought light to his darkness Caleb forgot logic and just followed through on his feelings. The betrayal was intense though, and walking out of the market place he was fuming. In one stroke she had ruined any chance that there could have been something to found a relationship on. But that was his problem, that expectation itself. His lesson was not of women like the redhead, or the abstract concept of love from the dirty blonde. This epiphany came on the grounds of a self realization. There was no understanding that a relationship was even expected but a single idea turned into great expectations. The little joy was tapped into so quickly he did not think past what was right before him.

Women can be cold, but so can men. Love can be fickle, but is one of the greatest discoveries when stumbled upon. And above anything, the self should be protected. A person is vulnerable for a reason Caleb believed, it was a kind of alarm system that warned the person when pain was going to be intense. It did not matter what other people said was healthy, his new found lesson brought him to one conclusion: He would be more reserved and patient in his expectations. He would recede into himself and try to find the light within for surely any chance of it being in some one else is non existent.

C.R.

The Dialogue in Hell between Hitler and Mother Teresa

Before him was the very depths of Hell he had for so long been warned of only none of it was true. This place knew no time and respected only the rules of it's overseer. Atop a high cliff and overlooking an old futuristic society Hitler became overwhelmed with the weight of his actions and fell forward off of the cliff and far below into the depths. Fear. Adrenaline. Hitler plunged downwards surpassing terminal velocity and saw no end in sight. The air was not hot but cold and the scent was not of burning flesh but the light aroma of strawberries. He did not feel pain and was sure that the bullet hole in the side of his temple was gone for no blood dripped down his face. Actually the wind felt soft upon him and the resistance against his unshapely form felt  like a bear skin rug. Above heavy grey cloud cover blanketed the sky and only hints of golden spots indicated that there was a sun. All of the buildings below were windowless and were a pale blue that seemed grey in the dim light.

Finally though Hitler hit the ground unscathed and quickly climbed to his feet. On the sidewalks  were thousands of poor souls who too had just landed. In hell time only knows it's end so everyone destined for this fate arrives simultaneously. Many eyes were upon him and all of them staring daggers. He was used to the attention being the Fuhrer of the Third Reich, but he was not used to the post war coverage that created world wide disdain. Soon though all were succumbed by their own internal struggle. "why am I here?" Even those who were well aware of their sins seemed to ponder the question. Hitler too found himself with the philosophical quandary and could name numerous reasons for his arrival but always found ways to rationalize them. Men can always find a way to justify their sins.

Those who were really suffering were those whose arrival was quite a shock. Teresa was absolutely floored and immediately burst into tears. Her whole life was dedicated to the service of the Lord and the unfortunate, the unwanted, and the unloved. She had organized the creation of thousands of centers around the world that saved countless lives from sickness and poverty. Still she could not deny that this was her fate and was able to muster enough strength to flee the streets and into the cover of an old coffee shop. Hitler found her sitting in a booth and was immediately struck with shock at her presence. For a short moment Hitler entertained the thought that he was actually in heaven but quickly found his way forward. Teresa on the other hand could not believe that she was sent to the same destination as a tyrant such as him.

"Teresa! Dear blessed Teresa of Calcutta!" Hitler called out.

"Lord guide me..." Teresa uttered beneath her breath hoping to ignore Hitler who had just taken a seat across from her.

"Dear Mother Teresa why are you here?"

"I do not wish to discuss the nature of anything with you." Teresa remained respectful but direct in her tone.

"Here sweet sister we are all equals."

"I will never be equal to you. The millions of deaths you orchestrated is detestable. You belong here, I do not."

"Teresa do you not see that the catholic church very much shares my desire for a grand project: the purification of the world in the name of progress. In that pursuit one realizes that normal human lives are dispensable."

"Bleh!" Teresa was not surprised though at his response. "The church would never approve of mass genocide, antisemitism or world war."

"No, instead they would approve of the suffocation of any faith or idea that differs from their own. How is the christian inquisition any different dear Mother?"

"Yes in the past the world has seen many faces of the church's competition against competing ideas but the good we have done centuries after the crusades have more than made up for the victims of the expansion of enlightenment. To compare the inquisition to the holocaust is inaccurate indeed."

"At the very least I carried out my actions for the good of the people. My job was to ensure a healthy society both morally and economically. My justification was of a local entity and not some make belief deity."

"The Lord is not some figment of the imagination. He is very real and I have first hand witnessed the miracles of his blessings."

"Oh Teresa how brainwashed you are. How can you not see that all of religion is based in ignorance? You have never questioned man's desperation for a meaning to life? Society needs something to blame so that they can explain their failures and why their lives are so poor. It is much easier to attribute everything as God's will rather than accept personal responsibility."

"Religion is not just some escape goat. Through the history of the world it has seen to be necessary for human survival. Without such an institution where would we find our societal norms? Who would look after the suffering and the displaced?"

"I do not need some omnipotent omniscient deity to explain to me what morals are and neither does society. I gave my people an alternative to the poisonous fumes of organized religion. I gave them relief from debt, living space, economic stability and wide spread joviality."

"You gave them war and apparently some morals are still needed to be taught. Your people without question gave you their faith and you abused it. You took our God given throne and turned it into an axis of evil."

"Why would I ever attribute my successes to God when he stood by and did nothing? What, God put me in my seat of power but washed his hands when I chose to exercise it? Why does God not get the credit of that? I am solely the reason for my failures and my successes. Why is it that you proclaim sunny skies a blessing of God but dark clouds the product of the devil? Do You see the obvious contradiction? In truth each one of us are the arbiters of our own fate and even if there was a God you honestly think that he really cares?"

"I do. I believe that God looks down upon us all and guides us to our fate. He was kind enough to create us with free will and so some may deviate from his light but eventually we all succumb to our sins. We are all here for good reason even if we disagree with our fate."

"Your free will that you speak of is just everyone's innate ability to think."

"What you call innate ability I call divine construction. It is what separates us from every other animal."

"Teresa many differences distinguish us from the feral. But if God truly did care what would explain all of the suffering in the world? The amount of those suffering everyday is proof enough that God does not exist. We exist though and we need to begin to gravitate towards self regulation through education and internal growth rather than remain in ignorance in the sense of blind faith!"

"You say he doesn't exist but what would explain all of this?"

"Perhaps it isn't Hell. Maybe we all end up in the same place despite our transgressions. What else would explain your presence here dear Teresa?"

"Why do you always need an explanation? Were you not just claiming that man's desperation for an answer was a product of ignorance?"

"I would rather be ignorant to the things that can be discovered rather than answers being addressed with more questions."

"You think you have all the answers? You think that there are conduits outside of the Almighty that can shed light upon the mysteries of the universe?"

"How is the closing of a door on any question considered unraveling the ether? There is nothing that religion can explain to me that science cannot with more substance and weight to the words."

"Of course you would say that. The modern religion is science and science has ultimately negated the necessity for God. But science has brought war and imperialism to the world."

"And religion has not? What of the lives that have been lost in the name of your God?"

"True, many wars have been fought under the guise of divine intentions but never has it fueled the efficiency of death."

"It is not science that propagates war but men behind freshly inked pens and parchment outlining the demands for war. Politics is the real enemy and as a  former victim I know all too well of it's destruction."

"A victim? Do not put yourself into a position of being the downtrodden. You have found profit in war and that is a detestable thing."

"My only profit was seeing the success of my people."

"Under a socialist regime the people will never profit. Under your Reich only those in power seemed to profit. Socialism as well as Communism breeds tyrants and dictators. You truly wish to see your people succeed? Try capitalism."

"Capitalism?!" The word was bitter in his mouth. "A system designed to grow corporate aristocracy?!"

"Only those who do not truly understand capitalism refuses it. The system is designed to grow the economy and thus the well being of the people."

"Capitalism is unfair to the same people you claim to help Teresa."

"You spoke about personal responsibility yet socialism assumes responsibility for their people. When you take that away society begins to degrade and eventually the whole system will fail."

"You would let the poor be poor under the illusion of a self inflating economy?"

"Capitalism encourages those who are poor to pick themselves up and better their lives. When faced with real consequences for their actions they must either accept defeat of fight harder. Capitalism creates an environment where those who are strong enough succeed and those who look to take advantage of the system fall to the wayside. Socialism does the exact opposite creating an environment where those who work hard are impugned and those who leech are coddled."

"It is not fair dear Teresa to let those who fail do so when surrounded by wealth. Only through equality both in social statures and economic outcomes are the people truly happy."

"Life is not fair and so to foster an environment in which fairness is used as a symbol for freedom cripples those when finally faced with the consequences of their actions. Also you spoke of equality when you segregated a whole people. You imposed world war on the world and threw your people out to fight like pawns while remaining in your safe palace. No society will ever succeed under socialism. The people can only remain ignorant for a short time before they wise up and the sitting tyrant removed from power. Socialism impugns the people and creates division. It keeps the people in poverty under the veil of equality while those in the the government remain more equal then their people."

Upon hearing the conversation the overseer of the new world appeared before them. With a smirk the well dressed man embraced them both. "I would like you both to know that I am an Atheist and a Capitalist. But both of you are wrong in one sense though, you are not dead.  What you are experiencing is the double edged sword of modern society. Two belief systems are clashing and tearing the world apart and every day the aisle between them widens. It is unfortunate that the same people who view science as the knew religion also propagates socialism and the other who presses capitalism also fall victim to blind faith." And thus the final point was made and the illusion forgiven.

C.R.

Dog

She was beautiful, a dog of fine fur that brightly reflected the sun's radiant rays. Caleb loved her and with each pet he would remark on the softness of her coat and the warmth from her body.  Always loving and caring the dog could never be found far away. Even during his monotonous daily tasks Caleb could look over and be greeted with a beautiful smile and if he was lucky she would make her way over and give him a loving kiss. During cold nights she would lie close to him and shed her warmth combatting the cold and keeping Caleb warm and protected. Often Caleb would experience interruptions in his slumber and when she lay close by he would lightly pet her while she slept and gently give her a kiss, reveling in his immense love for her. At times he was sure her love was unconditional but both were imperfect beings and secretly had their doubts. Caleb had seen his faithful companion as a distraction to his overwhelming life but as his suffrage intensified he began to retreat more into himself and away from her. This recession was not overlooked and because of her passion and fear of losing him she began to see the distance as a cause of her own undoing. As time moved forward she became more convinced of her fault as he fell further into himself and away from the world that she could not seem to separate herself from. Never did Caleb intend to push her away, in fact as he receded it became clear that she represented his last beacon of serenity, his last bastion of peace and the only source of happiness that he could tap into. Because his every day frustrations masked his relief Caleb struggled to communicate his feelings for her and as a consequence the distance became volatile and often led to explosive spurts of emotion where he yelled and she would bark relentlessly.

Like a poison slowly deteriorating the well-being of a healthy person Caleb's recession strained and decayed the relationship they had built and fought for so long to maintain. It was not easy to fight so diligently for so long and because of their many successes Caleb became convinced that they would never stop trying. He would have descended to the depths of hell and triumphed over his demons; Caleb would have fought his way past numerous skeletons to reach the edge of the world only to turn back and repeat his heroic endeavor. There was nothing he was not willing to do in order to keep them together, but his will and strength alone could not appease the mercy of the arbiters of fate. Though Caleb was willing to give his life for her, she had finally reached her limit and instead gave up on the struggle. More than was possible to count Caleb had begged her to endure the suffrage and keep her strength always ensuring that the prize at the end of  the road was well worth the pain. She was not convinced and despite his assurances turned her back without ever taking a second glance. Completely broken and distraught Caleb had receded even further into himself and could not find the strength to rise above the cesspool of emotions before him. Crippling and debilitating the overwhelming emotions coupled with the already overbearing suffrage from life created a weight that Caleb found increasingly difficult to manage.  Self-destruction wreaked havoc as he hid himself away and wallowed in his own self pity. The loss was intense and every day it only became worse.

Finally though Caleb had found himself within a place that he felt prepared to fight against the decisions of fate and to fight for his beloved dog's return. Upon his outreach he had discovered that already she had found a new owner and sat comfortably with him as if they had been together all along. When Caleb stepped forth with his intentions the dog nipped at his hand and he had unintentionally driven her further into the new owner's hands. Once again Caleb found himself spiraling down in a pit of despair and darkness feeling betrayed and abandoned. Without a doubt he was sure that it took both to destroy what they had built and his hand in the demolition was never in dispute. But what had hurt the most was that despite his growth in their time apart she continued to look the other way with a cold shoulder the only response received. She was happy too and panted without weight in her voice. It was not that he wanted her to share in his misery but that he wanted her to find that solace in him and not another's embrace. Still though Caleb loved her dearly and could not deny her happiness if she truly found it but questioned whether or not he would ever find it? Surely no other dogs could match what he had felt for her and every time he was reminded of her he almost lost control of himself. Unfortunately he had to appear strong to those around him and so built a cold steel shell that caused him to become cold and cynical. None could tell that deep inside a tornado raged and wrecked everything in it's path. The scar left by his lost dog filled him with contempt for every other member of that species.

As other dogs attempted to get close to him Caleb would push them away fearing that his own vulnerability would cause more pain and so ended anything that seemed to grow. It wasn't until a night of dulled senses and low inhibitions that he found himself petting another dog. This one had dark and course fur and walked on stubby legs whilst letting out a shrill and annoying bark. Caleb could not deny though that the petting was enjoyable but found himself looking upon her with disdain. He hated how this new dog had so easily given her trust to him and as a result he lost all respect for her. Caleb could not imagine investing himself and so much time to a dog that he held no respect for. In fact he realized that he could not care less for her and found every aspect of her personality quite distasteful. Still he enjoyed the petting since it was without emotional investment and thus his vulnerability was protected. The black dog never the wiser continued to curl up by his side and give a sigh of relief that she had found a faithful owner and Caleb recognized a brand new horizon of problems springing up. Feeling that he was doing wrong in his using her Caleb began separating himself from her presence. Also with every pet Caleb could not stop imagining his precious golden retriever being pet by the new owner and it filled him with a mixture of feelings including furious rage and a strength consuming sadness. At first he had assumed that the distraction of a new dog would be helpful but rather it seemed to worsen how he had felt. Suddenly he was confronted with the reality that he feared the emotions and possible pain of a newly inspired love (if love was even possible anymore) and the resentment he held for himself when petting the new dog without a foundation. And so Caleb settled on the assumption that any love for another dog was impossible and that he would never be able to overcome his sense of loss and betrayal. Caleb though greatly valued his life and would never entertain ultimate surrender and instead figured he would just have to live with the weight no matter how long he had to. Despite his assumption deep inside he maintained faith that there truly was a light at the end of the tunnel and when he would arrive he would see the dog that he was truly meant to have. Until then though Caleb continued down the road with no tunnel in sight.

C.R.

A Bear's Place

"What drives the salmon upstream?" A query pronounced by a young cub to his father.

"It's the struggle my son, it drives us all." The answer so simply put while remaining vague.

"What struggle?" Still the cub's curiosity persisted.

The father then continued to explain the struggle of the salmon :"From birth they are fighting for their life in an environment that consumes and recycles life with an efficiency only obtained from billions of years of evolution. Those who survive are driven with the urge to travel upstream, against the current and against the odds. Despite the difficulty they push on even as brethren fall to the strength of the increasing current. Pushing harder and harder the salmon overcomes the struggle and reaches the top, the greatest achievement of their life. Those who fell behind parish, but the salmon never looks back and only knows the end. He will push past the fighting  force of the water's fury and come out victorious, a feat not many other species can attest to have earned."

"So why do we not struggle? Why is it that we so easily can stand here and disrupt their path?"

"My boy if the struggle were so that every one could do it, it would not be so worthy of it's name."

"But is that fair?"

"What is fair? Has life ever been fair in any aspect? Is it fair that the birds can fly and we are forever forced to walk the earth on dirty paws? When you start drawing comparisons in aspects of what is fair, you achieve exactly what you had originally intended to prevent: Division."

"Still, why do we choose to contribute to their struggle?"

"Those with the hardest bite and loudest growl sets the rules of the world."


"Exactly, it isn't right. Why should we be so lucky?"

"Your assessment is accurate when you pity them so. Be warned young one, pity is a guise for vanity, and us bears are a humble species. Do not show pity and in return ask for none. Instead look upon their struggle objectively and respect it's difficulty. When one makes that observation you realize the greatness of the journey that the salmon takes."

The conversation ended, but the young cub remained lost in thought. To further satisfy his thirst, he would capture a fish and ask him directly. Biting down ever so softly so that the salmon was not injured, the cub was successful in catching his next conversation. Taking the fish to a secluded spot to avoid detection from his father, the cub grew in excitement for his next set of questions. "Well Mr. Salmon, there are some things I would like to discuss with you."

"What?!" The fish was flailing around, and shouting hysterically. "You realize I'm on my way out...gone...oh lord! I can feel myself slipping! Im slipping! Aunt Clara! Is that you?"

The cub new the lack of oxygen was painful, and his death slow but he was determined to get as much out of the salmon as he could. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but I was wondering if you could satisfy some philosophical ponderings?"

"Philisophi...Inconvenience?! What in the world is a bear doing having ponderings of the philosophical nature?! Just eat me already! Do it!"

"But why? You struggle so much to simply reach this point of the stream, it doesn't bother you that it's all for nothing?"

The salmon froze, obviously never having though of that aspect before. "I guess I had always assumed our goal was to try and be eaten by you."

The observation caught the cub off guard, "Your goal was to reach this point and be eaten by a bear?"

The salmon let out a loud laugh, "Well ya! I mean we are one filthy species friend...Im talking excrement eating and bacteria with no names kinda having...its terrible. It makes no sense to us to be honest. Actually, we find it quite hilarious that you would even consider eating us. Kinda makes it all worth it." The salmon smiled one last time and took his final breath. 

The cub returned to his father who had just caught himself a juicy new fish, and set down to eat it. "The hardest bite," he echoed just before he clenched down into the soft flesh of the salmon. 

Smirking, the young cub agreed that it was the bite that brought him his place, but devoid of reason. It was through the salmon that he found his reason, to propagate the practical joke set forth by the subordinates who feed the survival of those shouting the loudest.  The comedy was quite entertaining to the young cub, and felt it was worth the ignorance.

C.R.