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.