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Ayad Gharbawi Jan 2010
The Story Of Sara

Chapter 7

Ayad Gharbawi


Chapter 7: GETTING A JOB AS A PSYCHIATRIST



At around this time, I realized, that I was living with Sanji and I still wasn't working, and so, that dear soul was having to work overtime in order to take care of me.
  I swear Sanji never complained; not even a ****** hint – but, I to my embarrassment, I realized this fact!
  "Sanji I just want to tell you I'm so sorry for not working; I just want to,"
  "Don't worry, Sara; you've been under stress and so I can understand. You've needed time to emotionally recuperate from the traumas of the recent past."
  "Yes, but stress or no stress, it's high time to work again. Don't forget, Sanji, I've got a psychiatry degree?!"
  "And, work will do you good. It will be a good source of distraction. Get your minds off this whole subject of the party, guilt, Omar and God knows what else!"
  "You're absolutely right, Sanji. Tomorrow, I'll be looking for any vacancies.
  I felt happy; I felt that finally I was going to be useful again.
  After all those years working for the party and feeling that I was being 'useful' and then discovering to my horror that I had been of absolutely no 'use', now I can say that I shall be useful to society.
  I will be respectable again.
  I will have a sense of direction in my life.
  A clear sense of where I'm going with my life, rather than just drifting like a jellyfish in the ocean.


  Sure enough, the next day I set off for the job centre, and applied for any vacancies for a psychiatry post.
  Within days, I received an offer for an interview at my local hospital.
  I was to be interviewed by Dr. Tajim, who was the Head of the Psychiatric Department at my local hospital.
  I went to the department, and there I met Dr. Tajim who was to interview me.
  Obviously, I was tense.
  "Good morning; how are you Ms. Sara?" said the elderly doctor.
  He looked frightening.
  "Very well, thank you," I replied.
  He was about sixty five; a bit overweight, and as I looked at him more closely, I pleasantly discovered that he had a really pleasant face and gently inquisitive eyes.
  I relaxed.
  I totally misjudged the character of this kind man!
  He wasn't at all overbearing, or stiff or cold; in fact, he was a very welcoming old gentleman, and he made you feel utterly comfortable with him, so all your nervousness simply dissipated!
  I had heard that one of his own sons was suffering from depression and that he was in a hospital.
I also had heard, that that fact really affected him a lot, and, at times, it seemed to emotionally exhaust him; and, yet he would persevere and he was known to be really loving, compassionate and deadly serious in his efforts to help not only his son, but all his patients to get over their depression.
  "Now, you do know what the job offer is about?" asked the soft spoken doctor.
  "Yes Sir; I am to be a psychologist for patients who are in Category 'C'."
  "I see, and you do know who are patients in Category 'C'?"
  "Yes, Sir. They are patients with mild to severe depression."
  "Good, that's correct. Do you have experience in working with depressed patients?"
  I thought for a quick moment.
  I couldn't lie.
  "No, Dr. Tajim; I have no experience, but I wish you would give me the chance to prove myself."
  "But that is rather strange. You are twenty eight years old, and you graduated age twenty one – so, the obvious question, is what were you doing in those intervening years?"
What am I supposed to do here? I needed Sanji to be with me. How can I tell Dr. Tajim that I was 'working' with so-called 'political parties''? I couldn't. He would never employ me if I told him which 'party' I had been working for. If I had worked for a decent, respectable party, then presumably, he would have had no problems with me, but working Tony and Omar?!


  I had to lie.
  Lie to survive!
"Dr. Tajim, during those intervening years, I worked on a voluntary basis for charities broad, helping the sick."
  "I see, that's interesting; where did you work, and what exactly did you do for the sick?"
  Great!
  Now I had to dig the hole of lies even deeper!
  What else can I do?
  Tell him that I was joking and that I never really worked abroad? Of course not, that would make me a fool.
  I really didn't want to lie.
  But what choice did God give me?
  "Yes, Sir. I worked in Uganda, in a village called Sanji", my God, of all names that came to my mind, I couldn't think of anything else except Sanji's name! "Yes, and there in that humble village, I acted as a nurse for the sick, in a really small infirmary."
  "Sanji?" Dr. Tajim asked, narrowing his eyes with incredulity.
  "Yes, Sir; as far as I remember, the village was called Sanji, but you know the odd thing about rural Uganda, is just how one village can have so many different names, since each tribe would have their own names, that differed from other tribes. So, you must excuse me, it was a little bit confusing."
  Rural Uganda!
  What on earth was I talking about!


  And did Dr. Tajim actually believe me?
  I was insecure, because I had no idea if Dr. Taji actually believed the lies I was saying.
  "I see; I ask because Sanji is not quite an African name."
  "Yes, Dr. Tajim; indeed, I may be completely wrong, but, as I say, there were so many languages in Uganda, that it was really difficult to communicate with anyone."
  God knows what I was saying!
  I was just saying whatever came out of my mind!
  "I see. Yes, there are different languages in Uganda, and indeed in the whole of sub-Saharan Africa. But, I never knew that names of towns and villages would change, and certainly, no African tribe would give an African village 'Sanji' as a name. But anyway, maybe, as you say, the name may not have been 'Sanji'. Anyway, where did you get your training as a nurse?"
  Relief!
  Oh yes, but now I had to create another lie, in order to explain where I got my 'training' from.
I was getting deeper into this lying game.
  But I couldn't now worry about the morality of that.
  I had to come up, with an immediate answer to his pertinent question.
  "You see, Dr. Tajim, I went as a volunteer to rural Uganda, to help build homes and help women in their daily lives, and the next thing I know, is when the local doctor asked me for help. When I informed him that I wasn't a nurse, he said he would teach me. I soon learned the basic first aid medicine that was required. I guess, that I could be useful in the hospital in that sense too."
  "I see, Ms. Sara."
  Finally, Dr. Tajim paused, giving me time to think of what else he may ask me about my 'time' in 'rural Uganda'.
  "I see," he repeated, looking confused.
  Strange I thought, but this doctor would start every sentence with 'I see'.
  "So, for all those intervening years, you remained in this one village?"
  "Um, why yes, Dr. Tajim. I did spend all my time in Saji. Is that so strange?"
  My God, I called the non-existing village 'Saji', rather than 'Sanji'.
  Would he notice?
  "I see, but, I mean, as a volunteer, didn't your superiors relocate you to another village, or to another country, in all those seven or so years?"  
  I couldn't understand why Dr. Tajim was surprised at the time, which goes to show what a poor liar I was.
  Of course, later I would learn, that volunteers to Third World countries would get stationed in not more than a year or two in any country – let alone one tiny village!
  But, for that moment, I could only go on with my lies.


  "Yes, Dr. Tajim. I was posted for that village all those years."
  I simply stuck to my lie.
  Defend your lies, or else you drown.
  "I see, how strange. And now you are permanently back here?"
  "Yes, Sir."
  "I see," said Dr. Taji, looking uncomfortable.
  Silence, as he turned his attention to the papers on his desk.
   I felt that he was simply going to call me a complete 'liar' and to get out of his office.
  "Well, I shall get in touch with you. Give me a few days to get to a decision."
  "Thank you Dr. Tajim. I hope you will just give me a chance to prove to you, Sir, that I shall be really good at my job."
  What a surprise!
  With that, I got up and headed for the door.
  "Ms. Sara!" Dr. Tajim asked.
  "Yes, Sir?"
  I hope I didn't look nervous or startled.
  "Yes, before I forget, do send me by email the relevant documents from your charity organisation that gives me the official notification of your time you worked for them. Like a Letter of Recommendation from them."
  Yes, now I was startled.
  I know the colour of my face must have turned red.
   Where on earth would I be able to get any document from any charity organisation?!
  I felt that I was now caught!
  Was I going to be caught for lying?
  "No problem, Dr. Tajim," that's what came out of my mouth. And I found myself leaving Dr. Tajim's office.


  As soon as I was a safe distance from the hospital, I began to think once more: how can I forge documents that are supposed to be from a charity organisation? And, even if I did forge them with some expert computer person, wouldn't Dr. Tajim simply call the telephone number of the charity organisation and enquire about me, and then he would obviously be told that I had never worked for them, let alone having me fly off to Uganda?!
  Back at home, I sat down, and realized there was no exit.
  I lied and so now I must take the risk that Dr. Tajim simply would not call the charity organisation.
  I would choose one of the biggest organizations who would have hundreds of thousands of volunteers, and even if he did check, I could say that their computers get it wrong! They didn't register my name because they have so many volunteers!
  But, no, that's stupid of me.
  If I supposedly worked for seven years for one organization, then they would obviously have my name in their computer files.
  I was being stupid.
  Too rash.
  No, that's it.  
  I lied and so I must take the consequences.
  I would risk it.

  Well, I did forge a charity organization letterhead, and I wrote that I did 'serve' for seven years in rural Uganda.
  Next, I scanned the document, and had it sent by email to Dr. Tajim.
  To my complete surprise, within a few days, I got an official letter from Dr. Tajim's secretary, saying that I was accepted by the psychiatric unit in the hospital!
  I was so thrilled, that to be honest, I couldn't in the least be bothered about my lies!
  I was now going to be a useful member of society!
  At last!
  I was going to be a worthy, decent, respectable person!

**************

  As I got to work in the Psychiatric Department in the hospital, they began almost secretarial tasks to do. I would get 'introduced' to the depressed patients and, gradually, I was allowed more and more time to talk to the patients.
  I was really happy and pleased with myself, because I felt that I was, at last a 'respectable' person.
  For the first time since I had left, or rather since I was expelled from the party, I felt proud of myself; and perhaps, most importantly to me, was the feeling that I knew where my life was going.
  I would walk anywhere and, when asked, what I did for a living, I proudly reply that I was a doctor in the Psychiatric Department in our local hospital.

  It was at this time that I was watching television in Sanji's apartment, when the latter walked in and said:
  "You are not going to believe who is with me!"
  "Judging from the excitement on your face, it must be someone very important." I replied casually.
  "Yes, yes; so guess who?" asked Sanji.
  "Oh God, Sanji how am I to know? The Prime Minister perhaps?" I answered sarcastically.
  The next thing I know was that none other than Tony walked in!
  My goodness me! I was absolutely shocked and awed by his presence!
  What was Tony doing here?!
  This was the first time I had seen him since I left his party and joined Omar's party.
  And, I guess, he must have just left prison, because, it had been about one year, since I heard that he was prosecuted by our courts.
  He had changed a little bit.
  He was much fatter – which, I thought was a bit odd, since he had been in prison, and I thought that everyone in prison gets to lose weight!
  He looked older than his years. He had dark rings below his eyes, and for the first time in my life, I was really surprised, to find out, that he looked utterly dull, weary and tired.
  He seemed to have lost all that will power, charisma and charm.
  They were no longer part of his personality.
  "What are you doing here?" I managed to ask Tony.
  "And why not? Why shouldn't I be here?" he answered smartly.
  I got confused all over again.


After all, what had happened to him since our entire movement collapsed?
  I never thought about what happened to Tony, or Omar for that matter.
  Selfishly, I just thought about myself.
  That was typical of me.
  "You look dazed, Sara," said Tony laughing. "Is my appearance that shocking to you?!"  He joked.
  "No, not at all." I regained my composure, or at least, I tried to regain my composure. "It's just that, I never did understand, or know, what really happened to our movement? And what happened to you Tony?"
"Sara is confused about the entire movement." Sanji said to Tony.
  "Well, what happened is actually quite simple," said Tony, "the new government decided to take legal action against us for the first time. Previously, every government never even took us seriously enough to warrant a concerted attack to eliminate us. To them, we were just clowns."
  I was shocked.
  "Clowns? What do you mean Tony? What do you mean previous governments did not take us seriously? Of course they took us seriously; Tony, we were in a state of war, remember? What's happened to your memory? We were fighting battle after,"
  "Let me interrupt you, Sara; but you are so utterly naïve and blind that I just do not know how to face you with the facts."
  What do you mean? What are you talking about?" I asked frantically.
  Suddenly all those memories from the party days returned to me; for the moment I completely forgot that I was a doctor at the Psychiatric Unit; Tony had re-opened all my memories, anxieties and unanswered questions concerning those years.
  "Relax Sara, don't let your emotions take over your rational mind," Sanji said. "That's always been your problem. You simply allow your wildest emotions to highjack the rational part of your mind. I mean, you're supposed to be a psychiatrist and yet, you are so utterly impulsive in your thinking and in the actions you take."
  I knew Sanji was completely right. He was so rational and calm.
  "What 'battles' are you talking about Sara?" asked a perplexed Tony.
  Sanji laughed. "That's a good question Tony, go on, and ask her that one!"


  Tony joined Sanji laughing.
&n
Ben Lacasse Apr 2014
Now where to start? At the start or the last point I'll make?
I'll just try my best to make some sense.
Have I not been the same or has everyone changed?
I wanted the world to stop when it started to crash.
I don't know how nor when but my motivation
has simply drifted asleep and left my eyes wide open and worried
I try to think of something, a simile, a metaphor,
a "like" or "as" but i cant help but stutter and realize
nothing I've ever known can compare to this chapter of me

My thoughts have left me and buried me as I did to them
And just as before, they find  way to dig themselves back up
I can drown them out with another digital whatever
or another episode of a show which I'll laugh for a few moments
or maybe I'll just let them roam free and I will
explain just what these thoughts are or at least try
in the start of this chapter of me.

In the day which feels like yesterday, something happened.
I've tried finding a chorus that described how i didn't fight
and the constant thoughts have dragged me back into the cave
I've been working so hard to get out of. You didn't mean for this, of course I know nobody does. And I lost the map in the storm.
I don't want you in my life but i find you in nearly every minuet of it.
So I'm sorry if I don't return the smile, or the small wave,
if i try to avoid, and i know I'm breaking
because that's the theme in this chapter of me.

But as I go throughout the day, I cant help but wear a pathetic face
one that says "I'm here and I have a problem call me out
so that way I have an excuse to vent."
I know full well that it wont work but what else is there to do
simply another motif in this chapter of me.

I'll turn away now and try to get my heart pumping again
as I look away. I'm afraid to do a lot of things
But as I turn back to that person only for a second,
praying that maybe you'll hear my internal speech,
I want to pull you aside and explain how if there is
any part of you that wants to try again, just know that
there's still room for you in this chapter of me
This is a huge one for me. I want to move closer to her.
The Empty Chapter
By Zak Whittington

The grey face
The empty chapter
The blank page
The dusty pen beside
-----

Between heartbeats lurks a sad silence
Whose footfalls fall on deaf ears
A beast of pain and shallow fears
He slinks, silent
Soft as the grave to which he will drag you
Cover your eyes
Avert your mind
Cross yourself
Count to three
The monster is here
Between shaking fingers peek and see
A glimpse of profound irony
The Mirror
A horrifying glimpse of Your Self
Alone on a barren world

Desolation

Between lives lies silence
Empty quotes hang stupidly over empty heads
Drying to dust
Turn up the music

Frustration

Shake the shoulder
Strike the hand
Bite the Shepherd
**** the Man
Burn the Book
Ride the Snake
Find the phony
Shoot the fake
Grab the apple
Waste the day
Take the staff
and lead the way

Isolation

With your arms around me
My shoulders have grown cold
Despite the hands on them
The Mirror shows
The Mirror knows
There are no hands

There are no hands in this wasteland
Just me and the rocks
With my heart beneath them

Elation

The Monster awoke before dawn
He put his boots on
He took a mask from his bed-stand
And he tried it on

Hang on quick gimme that mirror my lipstick slipped.
My smile wasn't quite on right.

Watch me dance
Watch me writhe and crawl
Watch me smile through it all
Watch this cheerful, painted grin
As I try to hold it all in
Waiting for the worms to win
I'll never have to lie again
Beneath thin skin,
Flesh rots.

I do a good impression of myself.

Starvation

Fat cat
Big man, pig
Mean one, green one
What do you hope to find?
Love, ***, drugs, joy
Home, cars, health, wealth, life
Cling, clang, fake pain with a tin in hand
Lovey-dove flowers and a Hallmark card
Satisfaction
Exhilaration
Jubilation
The second tree from the corner?
Squinting, with hands awash
Of pennies, nickels, dimes
Buy the way
Buy the light
The rich lead the blind
Kick the bucket
Sell the farm
Leave the world behind
(oh is that the time?)

The diamonds fall from stiff fat hands
Like petals from a rose
Or leaves from a clover
(three leaves? or four?)
Shuffle
Four queens
Three queens
Two queens shine
Two jacks
One jack
One-eyed
Blind
One heart, two heart
Three hearts, four?
As if I even knew anymore

Exaltation

Hot-shot soul man
What a sham you are
Far sight, foresight
Big hats, flashlight
The Family* has it all
Mad man, fake plan
Look down at your shoes
Torn suit
Worn boots
You've got no soles

*The Family:
Forgive me Father for I have sinned
I have watched Brother Jack ******* with the Man
And without a thought of why, I jumped right in
I saw Uncle Sam in bed with the pigs
I have forsaken my kindred
I have held fornication with the Computer and the iPod
I have sold my body for acceptance
I have ******* my neighbor
I have cheated on my wife
And now I love Big Brother too

I have driven the Big Truck
I have ridden the snake
To the edge of the lake
In the heart of the jungle.

When life gives you apples
Make lemonade

Annihilation

Roll out the tanks, boys,
Grab the big guns
We gonna have ourselves
A bit of fun
Spot the *****, sight the Jew
Squeeze off a shot and watch him run

Men run, blood runs
Red dirt drinks it all
In this wasteland
The dogs of war howl misery
Black blood, white blood
The crows aren't biased

Twinkle, twinkle crescent star
How I wonder what you are
White man died red
Saddamite, *******
Surprise the pawn
And now he's dead
Like the top-heavy King
With his massive head
And his high fortress
And his heavy crown
To ashes, to ashes
We all fall down.

But it's all fixed with a quick grin
A hand shake and a blank stare
Then you go back to your corner
And they remember they don't care

Reconciliation

(I do a good impression of myself)

Taketh thy hand up
Rip off thy mask
Do not stop at the skin
For it is shallow and flakey
and comes off quite nice
Don't mind the flesh now
Get to the bones
Dig past the maggots and flies
Until there's nothing left,
Then release your soul with bright knives

...

The world is quiet again
At the eleventh hour
When men are dust
We sit and wait
For the bells to toll

---
The fractured chapter
The soiled page
The broken pen
The jet-black sea
Sprays of darkness on ivory
Splashes of shallow imagery
And dried-up drops of creativity
and with so much left to write

Simplicity is killing me.
Inspired by:
The End by The Doors
Normal by Porcupine Tree
The Hollow Men by TS Eliot
The Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
Pigs by Pink Floyd
Sheep by Pink Floyd
Waiting for the Worms by Pink Floyd
The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger
Animal Farm by George Orwell
1984 by George Orwell
The Second Tree From the Corner by EB White
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
The Gunslinger by Stephen King
mEb Nov 2010
Lamentation; infelicity through neurotransmitters
Passing fleetly; swift but disturbed
Grids of brainwaves for the degraded
Overhead LED view is negroided

Chapter 1 Migraines;

A klaxon that grains into migraine
From there on out, strolling convulsion lane
Deriving from deception; antibodies start to lead loosely
Throe after throe I choose not to fuss
Laceration in hemikrania is conversing with the rest of my body,
Frequent as days turn nightly
I host the severe megrimly

Chapter 2 Vomiting;

A horendous bile builds up in my throat
Moaning like a ghoul; I banish the gloats
Disgorging from nothing, Heaving and heaving the dry
Although I force myself not, all the nosh turns into emit rye
Vital fluid very crimson soon came
From the cranium, I dislose, head pain
Frequent as the waves harsh blows
I host a ***** hose

Chapter 3 Tumor;

A neoplasm underneath I've found out
Unvisible but there; my flesh will start swelling undoubt
Below I feel like a mutant
All putant and disformed
Like globular liquids dripping from sewage waste
As long as I can still haste
Crescendo and surge won't ado
Frequent as traffic builds a rush hour
I host a cyst that is sour

Chapter 4 Deaf;

An absense of all frequencies
I daze everso daily;
Feeling like an earless statue; sound unaccompanied
Missing the wind's howls that ululate,
Clamors and bellows that spoliate
I can't sight the same verbiage
Without sonancy to inflicit, I see one big mirage
Frequent as birth enfolds
I host a soundless toll

Chapter 5 Brain Cancer;

A malignant fate told today
Disease spreading like a machine,
Programmed to enquire all it knows
A gruesome and hateful dose;
Withering casually away
Grown apart of, I'm the prey
As we hunt the beasts'
An invisible naked eye is poaching
Frequent as a house infested
I host a cancerous clothing

Chapter 6 Death;

A termination soon to unfold
I am as finished and ruined as story told
Biological function ending
Senescence through spending
User maat I haven't seen all wanted
Alas I am greatful for what has been daunted
Frequent as a death anew
I host a dissolution

*My evolution; through.
ryan Dec 2014
Chapter I
The thick textured cover
Of the paperback stained pink
Becomes your lips, seductive and
Welcoming, that open into
A white smile

Chapter II
The lights in the trees
Shimmer on the ebony churning
In your eyes; skyscraper windows
That reach high, speckled with
The white Christmas lights
Below

Chapter III
The gap in the open car
Door flies wide, as you rush
Back into me for one last
Little goodbye

Chapter IV
The thrums of the drums
Of an orchestra muffle themselves
At the door, but I can still
Hear your feet quick and heavy
Down the steps -- out the door --
And to me on the porch

Chapter V
"Write me poetry
Then 'kiss' me into oblivion"


Chapter VI
The familiar warmth like
A warm sweater seeps into my
Skin at the press of my lips
To your forehead

Chapter VII
*"Jesus Christ get over here Ryan,
I need you"
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phenomena cyberspace scoreboard psi ain't you'd mydriasis entheogenesis **** ones taste throw watch painting room alas lay history spend apart sea staring poet fact cut smell happened admit river wasted brought leaves making answer sorry glow learned decided grasp breeze bed begin pretty floor lived sole sand cure awake sight tears barely kept running safe roam willing prefer mist heads asked prose wandering sounds imagine looked hour growing recognize soon falls mirror treat ***** brother climb hero problems granted digital proud changes birth quest age spring aware doing witness names amazed ****** despite takes condition intoxication level beginning worked pupils decision object insanity rhythm medium quality weather physical false process strife individual journey doth code effects abandoned channel judge notions moral swear experienced greater chain natural thunderous cleanse determine shivering hallowed plus reckon caused adolescence media superposition addict connection indigo ethics survived definition reasoning internet feedback vibrancy serotonin cyclone hacker sardonic surreality virtuality here's he's sunyata temporality ******'s empathos apotheotelos flash shining green forever anger carry son moon selfish written supposed feed ya quite loop hooked pure feet hole paper flag sick voice burning attention fly utter wicked tremble endless form infinity talking piece shores verse chest rules food placed plan hallelujah called gun fading drinking emotional measure inspiration suffering belong west read sly instead bear erase furious shame conclusion drunk roll ******* depressed calls taught died defined tire everyday answers sacred acknowledge speaks perfection games ground spoke stood motion sway keeping pretend hell movement magic park key spin kick sake jump hanging animal begins orange streetlights fade crazy honest warp puppet chained survive apathy chains claim prey science diamonds begging grip tale hang powerful wonderland heal dealing plant twice painful daylight mastery desires recall school conviction miracle yearn empyreal weekend actual court value chalk hurts humankind rabbit eggs potential offers temporary pupil atlas nostalgia serenity happens yearning ponder hypothesis worthy witnessed ideas azure tools alpha curiosity consume singularity typhoon revelation stimulant liberate application projection criminals communication throes fraternity enables actuality starshine ethos apotheosis sardonicism aren't mind's teleology empatheon entheos hear mydriatic transcendention fight tear ash minutes wanna taking nights forgot tales lest desire lust darkest single shine slow allow destruction money comes anxiety contemplate nostalgic offer continue happen ink brings brave created holding create thunder produce talk sail philosopher creating distant illuminating drive dancing ease wishing higher pass excuse figure essence angel hopes child ahead sigh using door vast loves awaits strong tornado ok sorrow immortal ghosts certain remains stained insane reached lot discovered plain poison streets killing ending tried session vs poor woke stare watching grass slick emptiness falling box painter series children virtues awareness clean rolling reach advice heavens rend half cherish bay started relax focus laughed ashamed fiend melody drop exhale void occurs beneath win chose robes thrall shield ended sons normal sunrise road forged onward burden actions unlike colors curious street observe chosen silence shades returns technology race vengeance swept bag civilization strive reconcile trouble cloud described replaced substances whilst finding euphoria dear chemistry events deal message eternal masses beliefs vision apparent honestly dr seeing idea domain soar books frames rule law pleasures eat dread bare blaze raise compassion kindness wandered objects expressed sin declare mistake smoking drum heavenly honor lands fountain renew happening aspect gotten issues divinity teach matters pills goal follows significant job romantic gazed envelope elements identity group sell foolish lucid dimensions brothers owe education november difficult recognition express properties glitter considering illusion appreciate discover resonance derived transcendental buzz notion risk scares riot rainy teaching drizzle direct experiences elation normality quote evolution versus lamplight method reflective endeavour cloth eats teenagers eventually haul club result relative breed threat subjective concerning solstice interpretations allows rational ultimately basis aligned numbness hypocrite charade morality dope chaser continuum undead exploits aeons research freeman appropriate ion ****** teachings dilation binge beatific intuitive transcendent escapism psychedelia metaphysical beta untitled mescaline otherworldly dreampt contextual experiential symbiosis codex dissociation cybernetic weren't life's let's mirror's well-being any-more entheogenic junkiedom signifiers mescalito zero-summing won't 'pataphysics window million pair logic alright whisper stone walls notice fun picture lips whispering dying wanting hands pull remained pieces poems built push house choices united turns blessed lucky drifted sane demons demon external slowly worst angels town needs needed drifting watched abyss crimson liquid arch planes add souls questions leads flicker thousand swallow note strings player despair offering realms drift caressing enter gentle closed bodies letter beat gorgeous indescribable smiling laughing probably pick grown shade precious shooting background yesterday woman ocean sober lead clothed ghost flows turned conscience alphabet contain spun luck atmosphere vagabond completely surprise rock creed drawn book autumn rays spinning bottle early regrets lake kids sad acceptance stuck melancholy formed slip draw clearly scars collapse del sit satisfied jungle realized bunch favourite laid fit breaks notes plans anyways spoken produced echoes den trees steps ugly cover explained glance stole gazing current raised travel scratch haunts played women apathetic conquest naught goodbye midnight asking passed waste loss fallen rapture absolute positive walked mistakes lately bound patience nurture fog stranger men wants prevent forfeit asks arose easy quick sing allowed prove pitch mad closest deeply tides praying root poets sentence pulse nightmare deem coffee commit golden insert mock innocent whispers offend low tea strength captured attack stories baseline joint innocence neural chemicals plains blanket dripping reflect blink concepts psychosis plucked tidal radiance roar bathed wonders thrown moves suffer unspoken exists glad shroud plunge scorn bane asunder enslaved harvest possibly fail allure drank danger unsaid veil gravity assume sum receive bloom reveal odd whispered likes news fractured wisely gathered seraphim intention wrought plane weeks mere haunting aspects ha distance hungry eternally swaying eden foretold breach advance pains balance design event forgive significance confidence error alter paying unreality cost chronology thoroughly resembles vivid steal poetic illegal understands maelstrom temples amidst perpetual lesson pathos behold reborn produces scale heaviness ascend talked **** forsake valuable andor relinquish dismiss usually kid nervous sort fierce disguise demands abandon encourage avoid minor relentless identify loneliness web alchemy cosmic rhyme coil suffered basking dropped standard spark mates hearth swore steam myth native wonderfully occasionally solace ventures determination galaxy opportunity justify political prophecy steadfast healthy forsaken chapter facebook worried ex struggle shatter gentleman including convinced profit comfortable twine deity responsible adrift sage fortune immortality theft damage examine deliverance ultimate immersion response access test physics magnitude occur member relation acts theme signal shivers mire coin planet anybody vicious nirvana pendent applause glimmering benediction consuming glint refrain renewal myths manifest nocturnal reflections limitations teenager naturally material matrix columbine giveth inseparable singular proving lifestyle coherence humane ideals starlight sincerely prudence underworld infamous perspective presented pretends excitation viewed regard enhanced zen reverence arcadia theory realization typing construct statement subjugated exploration vote hazy reaper **** streetlight artificial trespass definitive device exceed complex finality surreal petrol proposition inspiring totality originally recurring narcotic cometh juxtaposition reckoning represent inability proclamation syntax continuity nevermind avoidance irrelevant veracious arcadian commence rumination aesthetics ubiquitous nonetheless variable exploit experiencing underlying villain cola rictus ketamine corporeal electronic graciously input cannabis manifestation comprised socially proportionate insofar ethical hedonism junkies vicissitudes cognitive determining psychiatrist palindrome lucidity remix reduction dissociative reclamation detract aer enhancement intoxicants qualia world's shouldn't wouldn't other's nothing's man's summer's today's who'd everybody's y'all 'the all's t'was ethereality thought's drug's noumenon skystruck shroom alexithymia transhuman you- -the in-between self-sufficiency -one zed's 15 11 liminality immanence adrenergic symbionts sublimeoblivious medina's buckfast psychonautes determinative serotonergic psychedelos skyglow cyclica 5-ht2a noumena pharmahuasca jeans role proper loud aching grows concrete cruel strains conversation ill paint wet couple calling mouth kiss senses case keeper torn pause middle setting whats pulling bone reminds likely remind wrath karma reading sunlight prone ***** phrase enemy familiar levels careful source adolescent small straight driving courage rush flaw suppose starting deny stayed weary worship trust turbulent troubled letting absence leaving wearing college proclaim spirits gather ear lady hey garden boys winning alcohol pay foolishly banish song cross encounters plays belonging famous shift burst alice tunes hood flickers glimpse gleam fleeting grant ride deja vu anticipation spot switch boyfriend order faded wrapped definitely short fish beach clock older dusted block station anchor longest deserve passing mark awhile lovers muse ache island totally existing comfort pride phone greek apollo bleeding unknown psychic powder remembrance tree train helps painted gambling tide tired acting blow build apologies silver fabric especially suspense band cascade flawless heat hunger nearly numb bread bright minus wide looks differently dive beating veins settle turning couch holds saying impression suspension meaningless plastic rich pointless occupied brief tiger sticks stones mask cake bitter concentrate drown forbidden shell dry walks unless regardless moved type shirt lone burns songs negative momentary staying police swing unseen ability analysis worries determined dreamt sink hopelessly chances abuse palm week existed ignorant blind dice sheep agree joke spy spill odds immeasurable *** pushing wanderlust softly midst presents blade guided ripped round ball lovely rhythms beats cars glaze wash fates evening vein gloss juvenile sides faces graces month circular rung wheel rises permeates father supreme portal liked rip fades october sitting grin showing surrounded explored opened confused wall quietly deftly scene sighs lingering radio altered evaporated suns dreamed vibration important appetite exactly devil inhabiting brains ordinary beckons constant local organic soothing linger meditation moonlight lads height ethereal simplicity kinda cigarette suggest violence blew bombs arise trips predict surface guy movements grey car stepped large bank forward landed lied ancient purely crash direction inspired release warned melodic rhythmic telling mysticism blues riddle blur floating drama neck lover nerve poisonous glare factory wage character suburbia escaped gates suspended followed pierced hall marks ruled influence functioning contained losing stopping effect electronica relate fed temper facts dependent malleable convey bent delve horror wolves won lacking certainly fooled temple oblivious watches extension molecular random subtlety rem price sear covers truths judging stage frost conditions victory millennium realised confront trickster eve daughter defines awoke terror remembere
Composed on 00:53, 21/09/2016 using Hello Poetry's 'Words' algorithm. We don't assume this means something.
Heavy Metal Poet Mar 2015
They. Whomever They are have a weapon aimed at the back of my neck, its warm, unsettling even. Reminds me of when I, along with many others, witnessed the ****** of Dean Warwick when he was giving a presentation at a conspiracy conference back in 2006 (link will be included at the End of this Chapter).

Yes. The Narrator is here dear reader, just for you. My mother isn't here though. Or maybe she is. Could be she is everywhere and nowhere. Are we even here ? We believe we are here - but in the middle of belief is a LIE (a John Trudell observation). This. THIS. May be a ******* dream, OR should that read NIGHTMARE.

I spoke about my mother in the introduction. I still have issues. Guess you can tell huh !

I Am the Narrator. I narrate. NARRATE. YOU read and make of these words what you will. But choose very carefully what drawer you place these words in.

I hear music. Can you hear it dear reader ? A fusion of  jazz and metal. Nice. What ! You can't ! Are you ******* deaf ? Have you not attuned into our comfy little twilight zone with fluffy pink sheep ? Can you not see the pervy creepy priest nailed to his crucifix made from shrapnel ? And no ! I am not Jesus ******* Christ. Their never was a Jesus ******* Christ. And the same goes for GOD ! Its a mind **** - religion. It is a toxic disease with a twist and a tease. Heaven and hell, trick or treat. NEAT.

I Am. CONSCIOUSNESS.
I AM.
Consciousness.
To deny that I AM CONSCIOUSNESS I have to be HERE. THERE. EVERYWHERE. NOWHERE.

What a rambling rumble of trash, I the Narrator spews forth; and yet, yes and YET - if you are OPEN to what is being written you will remain none the wiser. Maybe these written words should carry a public health warning.

I, the Narrator do not bind myself up in what is labeled POLITICAL CORRECTNESS. NO ! Why should I ? I am the Narrator, and you - YES YOU - are the reader, my reader. Until you bail out. Bankers always get BAILED out because we - WE are too ******* timid to say NO !

The suits
preen themselves
climaxing in front of mirrors
on a daily basis
the suits
falsely crown themselves
and think they are so ******* cute

BUT. We let them. The politicians. The bankers. The priests. The MAFIA of our SOULS(credit to Osho for that one).

And so. Its TIME. No it isn't. Its a ******* DREAM, but sadly more of a NIGHTMARE. But WE can CHANGE this. THIS. Yes we can. Don't believe we can - DO WE CAN. No more whining, unlike The Shining with here's Johnny.

Once upon a time
a circle gave birth
to a line
and we all
rubbed it out.

Well folks I, the Narrator has decided to bring an end. END. To CHAPTER 1.

Thank you most sincerely for reading these words. Many more will follow, and there will be casualties. However, as this is a DREAM *** NIGHTMARE, its all MAKE beLIEve. Who ******* cares ?

I, the Narrator, is smoking a **** good cigar. Until CHAPTER 2, do sleep well.


Lenny Gazbowski(c)2015
The Narrator returns with Chapter 1.
Fenix Flight Jul 2014
"Which Chapter Should I continue to right?"

"Chapter three?"

"OW"

"Chapter Four?"

"OW"

"Chapter Five?"

"OW"

"I'm sorry
BUt I dont have
A chapter OW."

"You Need to make one!"

Poor Janie
All sunburnt
and in pain

all she can say to me is

*OOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW
To my friend at work. I was asking her questions About my stories and all her was responding back to me with was OW
because of her really really bad unscreen on her arms. Poor janie. lol. I sorta kinda waannnaaa,....... SMACK IT!!!! Mwahahaha Arent I evil?
like know just time mind feel life world say people things lost we're does love think there's away long way thought night got words want better day human left right remember man dark end reality memory experience going make really eyes place 'cause good death tell great feeling soul home high consciousness live pain thoughts fear understand fall thing city sky believe god meaning thinking lose change oh felt hard ask heart times years shall need past light living existence choice use dreams power days cause poetry talking state we'll alive knowledge **** true moment little hope old wrong mental stars wave ago gone broken look brain dream far given truth feels head you'll best sensation baby try leave forget young sleep face stop escape blue dare drug lives wish doesn't drugs work earth new acid game nature bad sublime gods break beautiful ah writing hold born trying coming friends hold writing ah space daze burn body reason rain real moments wonder music memories exist psyche control waiting dawn future act philosophy word choose emotion lies deep one's difference self score truly perception actually finally what's story sure spent play happy greatest help start used lie took listen touch run belief fool glass hurt we've gaze goes cold set seek they're yes information anymore longing lonely qualia social land water afraid kind getting came dead hit present keeps gotta pleasure reflection free rave line held pray path sense art black half-light wake question quiet remain longer pill stay course open ego matter places worth lack horizon saw dusk beauty hand makes energy looking gonna data told seeking die **** seen subtle bit caught venturous means freedom yeah divine eternity empathy later rise perfect minds edge comprehend spiritual write couldn't evil care ashes summer knew turn content context accept existential white red sound chance who's consider hide judgement friend 'til realize dimension cast gave tripping praise health la enjoy search universe winter broke empyrean gain family personal spirit flowing wanted point poem lying wander loved wind knowing sleeping rest stuff doubt flow began embrace months knows discovery society hate aeon darkness chemical surely searching meant oneself infinite share forgotten fell late person religious conscious *** you've teenage blame eye instead different clear bring follow known decide forth strange cool stand we'd miss psychedelic passion today wasn't language catch purpose patterns tonight subject madness temporal ready simple sanity asked entheon absurdia entactus psychedelics metaphysics humans particle unto skies inside arms drink smoke bass youth breath listening close depths intangible expression mortal nostalgia practice return loose maybe dancing shadows king war answers morning silent dust ****** party generation near judge define asleep quite machine lines moving learn hath fate ate crowd standing haze guess brought certain fair read ways hours irish scared fine reckon possible ain't year psychedelion ******* apotheon substance isn't study bliss selfish ends warm dopamine explain fix addiction culture respect wisdom calm hurricane problem contradiction heaven forlorn vain gold sweet hidden effort fast she's breaking changed engine faith dance maze alas girl sigma watch grand heavy justice wait tried doors appear phenomena definitions somebody ignore feelings process sonder cybran soft depression chasing taken throw answer action relief having wandering compounds quantum necessary effects empathion ethos begin everybody rising clouds emotions indigo falls ecstasy fresh american walking glow outside speak force grow physical says view voice happiness shame sought age understanding lay individual billion explore crave pretty lights comprehension tears big sands crime waves taught forever venture adolescence welcome humanity comes zero storm wise claim swear sounds pass **** met he's internet mr table company repetition heard playing ***** mirror lets awake sorry doing dreaming states pondering ridiculous simply greater heal hear natural mydriasis mydriatic substances fades asking measure worse scoreboard destroy erase blood leaves worlds abandoned skin twisted walk grace smile fading illuminate hearts bed food ignorance admit drunk spring exile apart killed talk master meet waking chose neon adventure join **** mist aren't breathe psi laughing feet river trance wonderful floor hair desire breeze birth desert fade looked urban continue nation probably second belong willing alike criminals progress cyberspace sole survive names pills fears beginning digital you'd sadness easily depressed perceive surreality poets merely remains sober closer prose fact growing died save insanity defined session soon realm empyreal taste suicide science skins quality peace raise ashamed azure quit yearn piece notions absurd noble liberty entheogenesis reckoning feedback particles object reconcile baseline chain sardonic false weather hallowed intoxication wasted ******'s here's express cover green witness anger treat sacred pure cure ethics code objects level happen room addict smell fun climb pupils mere ok quest roam park meaningless form hour reasoning cyclone laugh nostalgic inspiration takes attention drop written sigh hole statement sand keeping thunderous sight despite grasp lived called drinking west heads spoke daylight staring song calls hell shivering kept recognize granted weekend problems decided aware happened hacker forgive sea key single moral sway definition caused connection channel difficult media strife dangerous ones cleanse imagine running utter ground spend vibrancy trees changes rhythm everyday group deal foolish hurts anxiety painting proud brother crazy amazed value temporality decision journey spinning making ha acknowledge learned scars apotheosis sort serotonin poet safe experienced potential lucky sunyata condition poor witnessed history doth barely pretend taking hero superposition plus suffering prefer offer won't medium empathos essence events reflect apotheotelos actual determine house issues worked begging virtuality swore gleaming sly gentleman wicked abyss feed lands tea moon miracle honest streetlights tale lust nights early chained allow placed life's actions emotional plant plan drizzle speaks spin hypocrite conviction watching rules jump application chains forged angel fail reflections lot illuminating flag grip fly sick wonderfully create freeman shine job supposed eggs draw pupil dripping tremble mescaline singularity subjective darkens alpha needed atlas orange discover rabbit warp joint wonderland perfection ponder souls silence ahead roll magic ease bag sorrow escapism sake chest magnitude chaser cloud infinity replaced revelation survived vs carry yearning school slip games begins curiosity heavens powerful typhoon furious theory hypothesis apathy serenity mind's marks window humankind cybernetic fraternity liberate cut movement excuse stopped thunder tire apparent mastery occurs motion paper masses throes falling race hanging bear follows sardonicism endless burning idea ideas burden court ya verse consume kick method stood temporary flash realized eat kindness occur advice shades properties shores hang shining ink rolling minutes street deem tools autumn empatheon entheos reach echoes remix diamonds gets worthy identity thoroughly stuck happens recall conclusion choices fiend dealing finding gun son stimulant experiencing depth twice starshine whilst chosen thereof hooked confused enables painful desires serotonergic teleology prey loop wishing relation neural animal hallelujah ultimately projection communication actuality significant experiences remind transcendention notion proposition works illusion puppet offers chalk series occasion calling degrees ended sin figure slick ending ash sentence glance rend november eve drum rainy destruction romantic drawn shadow observe ghosts bodies wandered atmosphere box familiar children honor road serve beliefs strong avoid lessons returns poison relax exhale whispered intention liquid stare dope needs ****** smoking club relative glitter reached fractured stones junkiedom aspect ketamine heavenly scares domain excess robes vast euphoria grass thrall elation buzz renew dr waste let's morality wanna bottle immortal owe intuitive wouldn't teachings transcendent nocturnal education eternal divinity drive aligned illegal lamplight sell sail insomnia curious beatific seeing insane continuum kiss beta void soar roar fog basis **** town cost regrets appropriate brave threat using emptiness fountain short stole shield riot shade ghost numbness stained steam dreampt october ion derived hazy money message sing quote metaphysical scene swept plain colors nirvana alright unlike dear low teens nonetheless pick considering teenagers beneath door electronic kids build pulse teaching kid mistake teach tear contextual political civilization vision dissociation completely tells normal nevermind raised brings laughed melody spot streets holding coffee praying violence appreciate vengeance law trust exploits slowly trouble mirror's refrain compassion eats recognition discovered blaze otherworldly pieces darkest angst brothers sit win buckfast vicious binge breaks undead forgot demands able notice lucid dimensions evolution sunrise plans philosopher killing produce working cloth produced painter gazing favourite track bunch haul arrives started chemistry prevent awaits definitive strive versus rule dread bare slow stayed onward altered helps lifestyle losing followed woke fight event innocence charade child ventures higher y'all acceptance pay any-more bay vicissitudes codex cannabis pleasures planes doses awareness steal beat zero-summing narcotic lest strength matters reading easy sons drift solstice half formed normality weren't hungry hopes declare research tales envelope regret tired breed release honestly haven't it'll blow entheogenic stories amidst insofar technology direct binary pushing gotten patience danger symbiosis dilation gleam untitled risk remembering aeons contemplate suppose allows goal certainly virtues well-being popular regard result tornado mescalito usually distant creating skyglow behold manifest psychedelia representation endeavour excitation transcendental resonance odd growth hedonism possibly focus proper assert formation described interpretations reflective determination rational consuming cherish expressed pathos psychoactive eventually significance dissociative strings author experiential specific oxytocin loves glimpse frames loneliness elements created 'pataphysics craft betrayal typical built wall wonders concerning critique signifiers books failing assume effect 'auld subject-object lethe scorn wants shroud understands enhanced ascend tides finality collapse lake reclamation beach proclamation justify junkies hood teen streetlight caressing lips other's comprised harvest midnight blink aching lesson responsible native fortune mistakes nurture grown healthy test mock especially badly boring walked gorgeous innocent villain giveth benediction stone rictus nightmare skystruck insignificance struck **** nothing's thrown unspoken den shatter loss subjugated angels myth fallen demon temples reborn irrelevant thousand clothed plains whispering insert telling everybody's ultimate expand immortality small rapture bound dry comedown starlight whispers contained watched attack mechanism questions palindrome perpetual surreal theme perspective bane heathen basking singular physics sighs rhyme deity sincerely goodbye fit asunder naught comfort adrift -the radiance plunge rock planet twine applause current enhancement zen profit terrible ill weary leaving fierce alchemy luck speed opportunity men arose prophecy steadfast captured sage demand weird estates gathered distance all's foretold sold wrath kinda relentless advance coil anybody columbine ocean drown spoken ancient eden wet blessed crimson concepts yesterday evening deeply whisper flicker enter book apathetic streetlamps trespass spun turned clean underworld disguise viewed despair tunes melancholy reverence unsaid noise o' groups turning swallow dropped lead confident veracious offend talked switch teenager shouldn't paying allure variable humane inspiring ex 11 matrix flickers offering receive signal news chant exhaustion access background commence summer's arcadia deja vu complex realization vivid stick sublimeoblivious deliverance belonging creed symbionts pendent sane smiling rumination plane glint resembles conversation web corporeal solace theft burned they'll sensations shivers satisfied enslaved mire comfortable shattered arch medina's fragmented plead achieve woman stage swaying dismiss entire numb lord type chapter infamous conquest aspects proving leads bloom floating precipitation artificial renewal spill beating midst petrol mad hands exploit movements examine women sublimation occurred eternally notes dizziness perceptive guys haunts spark poems poetic pull remained gazed vagabond presented blanket cried stranger glad lucidity turns sum details pour valuable exceed represent surprise continuity occasionally relinquish gravity likes weeks wrought gathering entirely reaper rays aging root laid balance four-twenty provide double-edged ceased exploration mates world's walls alteration faces breach million grey tidal unknown price absolute garden haunting train jungle aloud allowed habits closed syntax difficulty alter scratch glimmering drifting quenched explained forfeit in-between clearly ideals ubiquitous chemicals happening abandon supreme drifted soothing reveal alcohol stimulants psychonautes indescribable conscience closest dying andor travel gentle foodstuffs tree worried demons pair recognise inability ensure including hey graciously prove logic rhetoric 15 galaxy lately hearth ethereality forsake wanting steps memorable 'round player moves del you- encourage finished suspect frequently intoxicants acts aer veil qualities animals remembered karma kissed burying shooting bold scattered input howling design forsaken banish seraphim wide cola united democracy meandering -one zed's hot commit self-sufficiency thought's psychosis flows unreality immersion aesthetics realms struggle wisely immanence absolutely member add writings coin avoidance naturally boys inseparable standard convinced concerns passed prudence quick external suffer choosing produces letter proclaimed myths pains shroom bright absurdity awhile prospect sad distribution recreation responsibly ghb adrenergic minor neurotransmission cyclica lonesome foolishness cometh 5-ht2a beings golden pitch cathinone suggest conclude cognitive motions ethical condensate precious abuse compound underlying adult bask push damage attachment originally determinative heaviness concept facts today's regress detract step ugly absence cosmic note imagination psychedelos noumena noumenon reader haunt determining error questioning habit measured limitations manifestation learning arcadian joke hallucinogens material diethylamide mysterious exists 'twas response proportionate quantized nervous anyways identify qualify device analysis moderate moderation alterations accompanying totality fascinated gradually 'the represented brief juxtaposition played t'was resides tribe stead vote period liminality delete recurring mirror-neurons alexithymia craic ar positive drank maelstrom pharmahuasca wondered reflecting lovely facebook typing quale implicit dispute occurring fallacy treasure exactly reduction distinction discussion man's construct couple contain lovers failed confidence writer's integrity worst psychiatrist sesh rare chronology scale drug's definitely title sesh-heads who'd asks unable tomorrow plucked picture alphabet named coherence task pretends inevitable contemporary trips graces wrote entertain vice elicit psychoactives feens conform deface replace grin h-bomb atomic bleeding 20 bloodless unequalibrium following quench hunger bent euphoric display interstellar vertigo influence waited sunlight explored paradise soaring faded sitting unafraid aqua tinted source itches optional differently stem rich greed forbidden negative privacy react earned ails charity gift couch courage endlessly fascinating boyfriend phrase movies hopelessly loud admission inherent hypocrites intoned devil laconic sinful vein surrounded movie contempla
Composed on 01:33, 27/02/2017 using Hello Poetry's 'Words' algorithm. We still don't assume this means something.
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
I used to think that all of them were just bodies. She-figures, they came and went, facilitating infinite happiness and following with hellacious heartbreak, aorta explosions galore. They pass. I stay. She goes. I remain. We all take a trip, but she falls asleep while I follow the road, I sing the song, make the lyrics up as the 101 heads West, and I careen against the Pacific. I see silvery-white plumes of whale breaths spouting, they break the rocks of my rock and roll. When the levee breaks, we'll have no place to go- I'm going back to Chicago.

California. Line 5. Verse 1. She is born in Arkansas, in Denver, in New York City, in the back of a taxi cab, her parents waiting for a table at Earth Cafe, 1989. There are concerts, balconies, elevator shafts, and on benches. The gain rises, the volume up and up and up, I offer her a cigarette, I ask her if she likes my dress, I show up with two palms full of a flame, and I say hello. Browsing in high-definition, the water is warm, my feet are planted and I have everywhere to go. Classical emporium of light fill me with ease, greatness, and belief. She asks me if I'm gay. Every great confusion can be proven to be fortuitous with enough time on hand. I kiss in cars, in bathrooms, and barrooms, in hallways, on staircases, on beds, church steps, and legs. I touched a leg, ran my fingers through her hair, my thumbs curved to the height of two ears alongside a size B head. I love art *****. i burn candles, and I swirl the wax around until the walls wear masks of white. I check-in to a hotel. I stop to buy wild flowers on the side of the road, or to climb down a ravine, we open a page into an enormous patch of strawberries, wind-surfers, and the golden Palo Alto beaches. I am in Bronzeville, on my way to Bridgeport, I am riding the train, browsing magazines, and singing new songs in my head. My lips are wet with excitement and the musings of the Modern Art Museum and the gift of a first kiss; behind the statue on Balcony 2, near the drinking fountain, the Eames couch, and two lips meeting anew. Bravery in twos.

Chapter 1, Verse 2. The chorus is large and exciting. New plastic shining coats. Smocks patterned with the Random House children's stories that we played with as children. We didn't wear gloves, or hats, or pants, or our hearts on our sleeves. I was up to my knees in hormones and very persuasive. My fifth birthday was at the Nature Center, you chased me into the boys' bathroom and kissed me with your wet and four year old lips in the second stall from the door. I eased up maybe 2% since then. The speakers are a little bit fuzzy, it's like listening to the spit of someone's tongue cascade the roof of their mouth while they pronounce the British consonants of the 90s. Said and done and saving space.

I am saving up for Grace. A crush in the mid 2000s, black hair, long legs, and the only brunette for a decade before or after. We played doctor, with the electric scalpel we turned our noses red with Christmas time South American powders. A safe word for an enemy, the sun for an enemy too. You bolted out and took my early Jimi Hendrix Best Of compact disc case too. While we're at it, you took my Michael Jackson cassettes as well. I go mid-range, think Kiri Te Kanawa in the whispers of E.T.'s Elliot. Stuffed-animal closet party for seven minutes in heaven. Your family came with butlers while mine came with over-educated storage. A blue borage sky in the intestines of life, a splinter in the shanty-town of invincible daily struggles- both of us were born again in O'Hare Airport's Parking Level D. Too many nonsensical arguments in two-tone grayscale ripping open the packaging of a course about trysting in your twenties.

Your stomach's history is overpowering. It is temperamental, mettled by spirits and sleepless nights, borborygmus, wambles, and shades of nervousness you were never comfortable speaking openly about. The history of your ****** was privatized, in options and unedited films shot over and over candidly by a mini DV desk camera, nine months to read you wrong to weep in strong wintry walks back and forth from The Buckingham to the Dwight Lofts, Room 408 without a view. All of your secrets in a little miniature of a notebook, bright cerise red. You captured teardrops in medicinal jars meant for syringes. You tied strings to your fingers, named your field mouse Ginger, and introduced your mother as Lady Darling. Captain with stingray skin, the hide of Ferris Bueller with the coattails of James Bond, dusted with daisy pollen, and clearly weakness. You ate me like bitter herbs on Thursdays, and like every other woman I've ever met, on Tuesdays you always kept me waiting.

I have wings for everything. Yellow wings for a woman in a yellow dress, Red, White, and Green wings for Bernice from Mexico City, Purple wings for  Mrs. Doolittle the doctor who worked at Taco Bell, the Jamaican priestess who was traveling through Venice Italy- we smoked hash with the grandchild of James Joyce on the Northern pier against the aurulent statues of Apollo and Zeus, Cupids' collection of malevolent tricks, SleepingB Beauty's rebuttal in fending off GHB attackers, my two dear friends who were kidnapped in clothes, abandoned in the ****, and only remember eating chocolate donuts with sprinkles and the bruises and dirt on the insides of their thighs. Nothing clever. Nothing extraordinary. Everything sentimental, built to withstand soot, sourness, and early female bravado.

You know how to play the piano so you've said, but i only have the CD you gave me to prove it. I do have evidence of your addiction to men and *******. I have your collection of dresses with tags still on them (but every woman has some of those), there is the post office box in Kauai, the Halloween card from last November and the two videos I have stored on an external drive in a nightstand adjacent to the foot of my bed. You sleep atrociously, talk too quickly, and **** like your father abandoned you when you were five. Your talent for taking photographs is like your skill-set for playing the piano, but I don't have the CD to prove it. You don't believe in social media, social consistency, friendships, or hephalumps and woozels- with the exception of the classes we shared together in college, I've never seen you outside of the most glamorous of fashion. You hate flats, hats, and white wine, and for as sad as you can seem to be at times, I've only had you cry on me once. While we were on the phone, three days after your mother hung herself. That's when I last left California, and I haven't been back yet.

I love a Kristine, but once a Britni, a Brandi, a Joni, a Tina, Kristina, Kirsten, Kristen, and a Katherine and Kathryn too. I know rock stars who are my dearest friends, enemies who I share excellent taste in music with, and parents who've always had my back but show it in lashings of the tongue and of the belt. It's been two years and three states since I was two sizes smaller than I am now. I've never considered the possibility that I was the main character and not the supporting actor, but due to recent developments in antipathy and aesthete, reevaluation, and retrospective nostalgia. All of this is about to change.

I am me still evolving without my usually stolid and grim ****** features. i bare brevity to situations existing that would **** most or in the least paralyze a great many. There is one for every hour of every day, and one for every minute in every hour, second in every minute, and more than the minutes in every day. No one has a second chance, shares a different time, or works off a different clock. I have been called the master of the analog, king of the codependent, and rook to queenside knight. I share a parabola for every encounter, experience, and endeavor. I am three minutes from being a cadaver, one drink away from a drunk, and one thought away from being completely alone. I think upright, i sleep horizontally, and I love infinitely. I am the only finite constant i have ever known. I am the main character, the script, satire, sarcasm, and soundtrack are mine.

"I don’t care if you believe it. That’s the kind of house I live in. And I hope we never leave it.”
There's A Wocket In My Pocket by Dr. Seuss
Chapter Two

Well today, today I finally did it
I packed my bags and moved
Left the place where I grew up
And started chapter two

You see I never want to look back
On all that could have been
Or ever think to myself
I wish I did back then

 Now I don't know what my future holds
But I guess, well I guess I'm gonna see
I must take this chance and live my life
And do this just for me

There are some things that I will miss
Like my times with each of you
For the friendships that I've made in life
Inside I hold them true

Still when I look back on my past
I want to say there's no regrets
That I took the chances that I had
And I  did my very best

So today, today I finally did it
I packed my bags and moved
Left the place where I grew up
And started chapter two

Today I finally did it
Chapter Two, Page One


Poem by : Carl Joseph Roberts
I have officially moved to Florida, bought a house and will probably take a month maybe two off before I decide what I want the next 20/25/30 years to be. I know, at the very least, I will flip houses down there as I have up here for these past 10 years. I still have a few properties to sell up here and I'm keeping the family home so I will have two houses, one in Ohio and one in Florida. Still im thinking the majority of the time I will be in Florida. As needed I will occasionally be back in Ohio to prepare and sell these properties and I hope a few of my friends will join me for lunch or dinner just to catch up when im here. To all my friends both long lifetime friends and newer good friends, thank you for always being there for me when needed. Some of you have been invited to stay with me if you ever make it down to Florida and as it was up in Ohio, my door is always open to you. Love you all... Joe
Josh Dec 2011
He wander in the middle of the road with rain and wind in his face

With the hope that the next though isn’t suicidal.

He thinks and walks and thinks and walks.

He tries to see a way out of this endless circle but he can’t think of a way out.

This scar is one only time will heal

and yet Another chapter has gone and passed and

yet he refused to listen to the Morals it presented him.

It’s a never ending story and now he is ready for The next chapter.

The one that will conclude this book….

This new chapter begins with erasing her from my memory.

Going back To the way it once was.

Living in ignorance once again.

Back when it once

Was simple and when he didn’t force himself to be different.

Even as far back As adolescent even elementary.

For now he will bid farewell to the memories

Of a chapter long ago ended and

when one day he’s healed with the passing of time

he will live with her as a friend.

As for the time being he is but a stranger

That was in her life and tried to take her heart.
Jenni Littzi Mar 2019
Just wanted a goodbye kiss, acknowledgment
Wanted to know what was legit
Just needed to get pass all of the *******
But you just would not quit it

I can’t escape all you did to me
Long ago it was time to leave
But I let it all stay still and be
There’s so much I didn’t know
But now that chapter’s closed
We have had our final shows
Time for me to go ahead and go
Chapter’s closed, shut the door

I actually want to see you more happy in some way
To know leaving me was the right way
And that even for me it wasn’t a mistake
But I am not sure I’ll find that day

I can’t escape all you did to me
Long ago it was time to leave
But I let it all stay still and be
There’s so much I didn’t know
But now that chapter’s closed
We have had our final shows
Time for me to go ahead and go
Chapter’s closed, shut the door

Now it’s time to say so long to all the memories
Maybe the good ones I’ll still keep...

I can’t escape all you did to me
Long ago it was time to leave
But I let it all stay still and be
There’s so much I didn’t know
But now that chapter’s closed
We have had our final shows
Time for me to go ahead and go
Chapter’s closed, shut the door
Lady Narnia May 2016
Oh, how dark our history is
You, my author of misery and pain
With fingers set to scribble my demise
This is our story, writ with chaotic pen

One that left calamity in its wake

You would always start the chapter
Every page inked with words of black
On the point of a pen, you'd viciously write
Using the sharp edge to stab into my being

Scripting, deeply, my eternal damnation

You erased my name and made me delusional
Always forcing me to your divine will
For the pen, always mightier than the sword
Was kept toward the edge of my neck

Swearing to strike at any given moment

Always determined, I'd end our sentences
Fighting to gain balance and bear the final period
Yet it was not without consequences
For you and I were wrought with scars

Etched into the bottom of our hearts, a burning black

If only these words painted a happy picture
But the thousand only paint a picture of pain
A dreary battle between two broken forces
On timeworn pages, brittle-ing on and on

Begging for the piece that holds our final chapter

And that chapter swiftly came for I was the ending
Leaving in the night, gone without a trace
With no words or ink left as a guiding clue
Carefully escaping from your paper prison

Free from the agony of the writer's press

On that day, I began my life again
Starting a happy story; free, original, and new
A home of letters filled with love, life, and joy
Where I'd never dare see you again, my dear, dear author

And never bleed black from your miserable weapon
"This is the day we've been waiting on.  It's ok to be nervous but don't be scared.  You are the sacred vessel" said the tall dark skin woman as she looked down into the eyes of the ten year old boy.  Dressed in a red and black robe the ten year old boy says "I'm not afraid.  I'm just ready to get this over with."  "That's just what I wanted to hear Levi.  It's time to get started.  Please follow behind me" said the tall dark skin woman.  "Yes mother" said Levi as he followed his mother out of his room.  Leading Levi down a long hall that was illuminated with red light his mother says "When Priest summon the spirit Cruelty remember not to fight it.  Just let it take over."  "Ok" said Levi.  When Levi and his mother entered the worship area Levi's mother had him stand in front of the altar and the clergy.  "Thank you Harriet for escorting Levi to the altar" said a tall figure wearing a black hooded robe.  "You're welcome Priest" said Harriet.  Stepping down from the altar holding a baby creature in his right hand and a knife in his left hand Priest stood in front of Levi.  Priest stabbed the baby creature in it's stomach and ripped it opened.  He then dipped his finger in the baby creature's blood and anointed Levi's forehead with it's blood.  "Bring me the Book of Sins" said Priest.  Stepping down from the altar holding the Book of Sins a short figure wearing a black hooded robe brought Priest the Book of Sins.  Turning to the chapter of Cruelty, Priest began reading.  "As night blinds the sight of the male and the female and Hate stands on the grave of Love.  Only then will evil reveal it self.  Like Death stalking the living Cruelty will crush Kindness.  I offer this vessel to the mistress Cruelty.  Come forward I summon you Cruelty."  When Priest finished reading from the Book of Sins the red lights that illuminated the compound began to flicker off and on.  From out of no where a gust of wind began to circle around Levi.  Slowly the wind began to transform into black smoke.  Over taken with fear Levi was unable to move.  Entering through Levi's gaping mouth the black smoke took possession of him.  Shaking violently Levi fell to the floor.  "Levi are you all right?" asked Priest.  Standing to his feet and looking Priest in his face with eyes as black as death Levi says "The child is no longer in control."  Walking up to Priest, Levi sticks his hand in Priest's stomach and pulls out his intestines.  "LEVI YOU KILLED YOUR FATHER!" screamed Harriet as she ran over to the lifeless body of Priest.  "I am Cruelty.  Like I told the child's father Levi is no longer in control but for amusement everyone may still call me Levi" said Cruelty as she looked at Harriet.  Pointing at the robed figures on the altar Cruelty tells them to get rid of Priest's dead body.  "Yes Levi" said the robed figures.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Alyssa Oct 2013
Today I close a chapter
Not with a happy ending
Or with miraculous love

I close a chapter of lies
With deep sorrow
And undying loss

I close a chapter of pain
With hope to survive
Mending a restiched heart

Ive re-read this chapter
To an utmost fault
To where I could recite it by heart

With childish dreams of a different story
I close my eyes tight
And pray for the ending ive always wanted

But I am not the author
Nor the story teller
Mearly the character

I love you
I miss you
The end.
- Feb 2014
keep talking
as I am losing
losing this sanity
you destroy me
emotionally

sticks and stones
break my bones
but your words
cut me in pieces
they bleed me dry
I'm near the sky
on edge of death
are you done yet?

chapter one
we began
chapter two
I lost you, man
chapter three
pled for mercy
chapter four
on the floor
chapter five
I wasn't alive
yet, you smiled
chapter six
you saw death
chapter seven
dragged you from heaven
right down to hell
****** the life
out of your heart
then planned
your funeral
wore a veil
I didn't cry
I smiled
like you did
when I died
not sure what the **** I just wrote...
Ayad Gharbawi Dec 2009
THE STORY OF SARA

Ayad Gharbawi


CHAPTER 2: UNIVERSITY

  
  Well, I did study and, I did pass my exams, and I did succeed in ending up in a decent, upper class school!
  How did I pay for it? I hear you ask me?
  I didn't: I got a scholarship!
  And, what a new world I faced!
  What a totally different society I saw!
  I felt that I was in another country, for I never knew that there existed, from my own people, men and women such as those I encountered!
  My studies in psychiatry really excited me: I thought that I would be able to 'solve' anyone's mental problems.
  All I had to do, was to study and study as feverishly as I could.
Studying furiously, and with love and passion, was the key to success.
  Study, and then you pass your examinations, and then you become a doctor in psychiatry - and I would thereby become successful.
  I would then be someone important.
  I would be respected by everyone.
  My life would have a purpose and a meaning because I would be going in the correct path.
It was simple as that!
  And what was the alternative?
  Not to study?
  And what would I do then?
  Go do a menial, low paying job?
  That was anathema to me!
  It made me sick, to even think about that!
  Why?
  Because, I came from a poor background, and I lived in poverty, and I saw the culture and the people who lived in poverty, and by God, I don’t want to ever live in those circumstances ever again in my life.
  What was poverty to me?
  Your house is ugly; your neighbourhood is ugly; your neighbours are the most indecent people you can imagine.
  The area you live in, swarms with people who live their lives in ‘anti-social behaviour’!
  And what’s ‘anti-social behaviour’?
  That means your community is one, where most people are drunks in  public, where fights, with guns and knives, are an everyday occurrence; where the most filthy language is the norm in public; where ******* covers large parts of the town; where vandalism and damage to cars and property is another daily occurrence; where people play ear-deafening music in the streets and there’s nothing you can do – because, if you call the police, they’ll obey, but then they’ll come back and make hell out of your life – in other words, the gangs rule the community.
  Aren’t those enough reasons to get out of poverty?!
  And, then for me, there are other things that are really important to me.
  For example:
  I mean, who is going to respect you, if you have a menial job? Who is going to look up at you?
  Who is going to listen to your words, when you speak?
  And, most importantly, are you yourself going to be happy with your self and with your life, if you had a menial job?
  Of course not!
  To be a fully satisfied human, you need to live in respectable surroundings with a respectable job.
  Otherwise, there cannot be happiness for you.

  Once I joined my university, I encountered mostly upper class students.
  That’s why, I say it was like ‘another world’ for me, because I had never encountered people like that before!
  Their dress was different; their accent and they way they spoke was different; but what interested me the most, was the fact, that their intellectual interests were extremely varied, as opposed to the people that I had grown up with and knew – those people whose only interests, were getting drunk, practicing promiscuity, crime and drugs!
  Now outside classes, I got began to get involved with different groups of academic students – each group held differing ideas about the world, politics, economics, philosophy of life - and any other subject you can imagine.
  I was never interested in what I called the other 'superficial' groups; that is, those who discussed what I considered to be the stupidities of life, such as fashion, make up, cars, sports and so on. No way; not for me, were people like that!
  For I was far too serious for such mind-wasting people, and, frankly life-wasting people.
  No, I wanted to learn; my God how utterly hungry and thirsty and deadly serious about acquiring more and more knowledge on every 'serious' subject I was - so that, one day, I would be a useful and productive human to society!
  If I was not in my classes, and if I was not listening to those intellectuals, I would sit on any desk and search the internet and read endlessly, on any and every 'serious' subject.

With respect to my classes, as the months rolled over, I began to feel, and think, that my professors were not all that smart at all. I began to feel that they were, in fact, quite ordinary, dull people. But then, I grappled with next obvious question: if they were 'ordinary' and 'dull' people, then how come they were professors – and by 'professors', I mean that they must be far from 'ordinary'? Surely, any person, who is able to be a professor, must be intelligent?
  And yet, the more I listened and took down notes from these professors, and the more I analyzed their words and ideas, the more I became convinced at their emptiness and stupidity!
  My God, you must believe me, for they were talking utter *******!
  Well, who exactly, 'made' them professors?
  I began to dislike them.
  Then, the obvious consequences took place in my mind: the more I disliked them, the less I paid attention to their words and that, in turn, increased my boredom in class!
  No, this was a complete and utter waste of time for me. Yes, I would still need to read the text books given to us by the university, and I would need to understand these books in order to pass the examinations.
  But, I was also determined to do my own independent psychiatry studies, in order to find the ways and means of solving people's emotional problems.

I found it really thrilling to see so many students having so many ideas about the world, because, for me it was so utterly unusual to see young people actually caring about so many issues in our lives!
  You had the conservatives; socialists; Dadaists, existentialists, communists of every shade you can imagine; fascists, socialists, liberals, Nazis, monarchists, Hare Krishnas, Hindus, Budhists, yoga-followers, animal rights campaigners, environmentalists, religious fundamentalists, anarchists  - the list was quite endless to the point of absurdity for, within each group, there were sub-groups, that ranged from the so-called 'left' to the so-called 'right'.
  However, in all this confusion and chaos, there were, at least two things, that you knew for certain: and that was, firstly; that no group agreed with any other group, whilst secondly; every 'leader' of any group sincerely and passionately believed that, yes they, and only they, had all the answers to all the questions that faced our dear Humanity!

But with time, it dawned on me that that most of these intellectual students were not quite what I expected of them.
They would passionately discuss any subject and in excruciating detail!
  To me not every subject was worthy of being discussed!
  Everything was criticized in university.
  Everything was questionable.
  Nothing was certain.
  On the opposite these students believed that they had a duty to deeply philosophise and intricately analyse and scrutinize from every angle every subject and issue in our planet!
  Nothing was accepted and nothing was taken for granted.
  And it was exhausting to listen to them!
  I say ‘exhausting’ because after every meeting, I would actually feel emptier!
  I simply did not learn or gain anything from all these endless discussions!
  So they would analyse issues like: what is the soul?
  What is the difference between the soul and the spirit?
  Where is the soul located?
  Where is the mind located?
  What is the difference between bravery and foolishness?
  Are mathematical facts like 1+1=2 discovered or created by mathematicians?
  What does the word ‘the’ mean?
  What does the word ‘a’ mean?
  Who has a right to create rules and laws?
  How much taxes should each adult pay?
  Is the universe finite or infinite?

  And so it went on and on until your brain became numb with the deafening boredom and pointlessness of it all.
  What irritated me the most was that with these groups of students, was that nothing was sacred.
  Nothing was certain.
On the opposite, everything was completely uncertain.


  As for myself, I gradually gravitated to the leftists – that mixture of socialists, communists, anarchists and other such-like groups.
  Why?
  Because to me their philosophy was more or less simple.
  There wasn’t all that endless series of critiques and analysis that so nearly damaged my brains!
  Their idea was simple: we had to removed the oppressors.
And the oppressors was anyone who had power and influence.
  And what kind of society did we want?
  A purely egalitarian one where there would be neither master nor slave.
  Simple!
  Here I found that much needed sense of certainty!
  Here was an ideal, a philosophy that had strict rules that we were meant to follow in order to achieve our sacred aims!
  

  I was immediately attracted to one student leader, Tony, who passionately urged his listeners to use any means necessary – except violence –in order to achieve our goals of total equality within our society.
  He was a tall man of average weight, with short hair – actually, let me immediately stop myself here - because actually there was absolutely and totally nothing remarkable about the way he looked; but what really made him so attractive was in his personal charm, and the way he spoke, with such a theatrical ability, that made you unable to move as long as he talked.
  I can still see him, as he gracefully gesticulated in such an animated manner, giving further power and reason, to every word and idea he uttered:
  "Can't you see and feel what is going all around you? My friends, listen to my words, because we are living in a society that is dominated by greed and ultimately misery and death on an everyday scale. Why is the dustman paid any less than a doctor? Aren't we all human beings, born free and equal? And, so, if you, my friends, agree with me that all men, women and children, are equal, then it should make obvious sense to you that we should all live equally. Do you feel what I am saying to your hearts, or not?!" he would thunder at us, with his face contorting from the passion, and with his ability to be so majestic and, yet, so utterly humble at the same moment!
  Yes, I began to think more and more about what Tony had to say.    Why was there poverty in the first place?
  Where was Humanity?


  Indeed, aren't we all equal human beings; so why this discrimination? It seemed so sensible to me; and yet, what was I, Sara the Nobody, doing about this problem?
  Nothing, of course.
  Yes, I was just a student – but I was not actively working against the dark forces, as Tony was always talking about.
  Tony would mesmerize his listeners, which were usually held in the evenings, at around eight o'clock.
  He always managed to talk to you directly – or so it felt, despite the large number of listeners.
  "There are people who make millions in minutes – did you people know that?  While most people in our society struggle and sweat not only tears, but, I tell you, they sweat blood – yes blood" he would scream at this point, "day in and day out, and getting paid next to nothing, you also have a minority who make millions in minutes!   How can you, yes you, tell me that that is fair? Why do you, my listeners, why do you lamely accept, that we live in a society that allows conditions, whereby the majority, and I say the vast majority of human beings, men and women, have to bleed to death just, to pay their never ending bills, while a minority lead an easy life overflowing with money, glamour, power and luxuries that are indescribable? I ask you again and again to answer my questions: is that fair? And if it is not fair, then what should be done about this sick situation? Well, clearly, we must use violence to take our rights, because no democracy will allow our party to succeed in any election and obviously the rich will never voluntarily give up their oceans of wealth; therefore, if you ask me, what is to be done, I firmly tell you as my response, that we must fight for our eternal rights, and by using the verb 'fight', I mean we 'fight' with every weapon at our disposal – be they words or bullets!"
  I was simply exhilarated by his symphony of words!
  And yet, I couldn’t help but feel that there was something ‘missing’ in Tony’s personality.  
  He just didn’t have that supreme self assurance that others had.
  I guess that was what was ‘missing’.
  I couldn’t understand why he did have that degree of insecurity – because, it seemed to be a contradiction when you are living your life for an ideal, and at the same time, you have insecurities within your heart!

  It was also at university, that I first met Sanji.
  He was a tall, dark wavy haired man with a dark complexion.  His beautifully oval eyes had a deeply pensive look, and at the same time, they were always somehow mired within a sorrowful gaze.
  Even when he would talk to you, Sanji's eyes seemed to be far away, deep in thought, about God knows what subject!
  Gracing his eyes, were beautifully arched eyebrows and the longest, thickest eyelashes I have ever seen, that beautifully complimented those seemingly lonely eyebrows in perfect harmony.
  He was a quiet, soft spoken gentleman, who was the most polite and sincere man I had ever met – I would forever ask myself, how can this man, be so gentle and compassionate, and without seeming to get distressed, angry or anxious?!
  He had such a depth of serenity in his personality – and that trait was something that made so utterly envious of him; I was constantly wishing and trying to have a millionth of that serenity of his.
  He was utterly sure of himself – and not in any arrogant way. He was completely happy and secure with the ideas and principles which guided him throughout his life.
  He had a complete knowledge as to what the purpose of his life was. As a result he knew exactly where he was going with his life.
  There was no sense of being lost with Sanji; for he knew the endless, twisted, meandering number of Paths of Life ahead of him - and more importantly he knew which path he wanted to tread on in his life’s journey.
  He would never use foul language; and would always listen to you with interest as you talked – which is rare in our world.
  And he had that most beautiful ability and talent to be so extra careful in choosing his words when he spoke, for he always wanted to get his thoughts and ideas properly across to you, so that people would understand him well, and so that there would be no confusion as to what he stood for.
  That's why he was so pensive and why he spoke so deliberately; there was never any impulsiveness on his part; he intended exactly every word, and exactly every phrase, and every sentence he used; there never was any carelessness on his part when he would interact with you.


  I never met a man who was so wholly and totally considerate for the feeling
Patricia Arches Sep 2013
Choices

This ever blotting simple thing that makes up things

as small as a mouse but also as deadly as sin itself

A simple formula of cause and effect

An effect

A result

A consequence

No pretences

Or fences that guard our decisions

Keeps it safe for being just a choice

For it is no longer just a choice

It is not that simple, see there is a formula to remember

An economic study to this choice where c=e

because

For every cause there is an effect

For every cause there is an effect

For every cause there is an effect

Let it dwell in your mind and affect you

Because that is where it all begins

Let us open up your mind and there we will find that

Alongside that implanted thought are a plethora

Of more thoughts that are placed beside your dreams

Nestled in between your hopes, skilfully intertwined with your visions

There they all lay

Our mind is our drive that takes us down

A road that is long and winding

A highway down to our hands

Which eventually become steered by, picked up with strings ever so delicately like a puppet

Held by that one thought

Your actions are birthed from your thoughts

We see these to be choices

To study these choices would be economics, to understand them would be sympathy

To take a leader who steals from his country

Or a mom who abandons her child to keep herself alive

And view this as sad, as a cry for help?

How and why?

Oh no! We do not stop at just those two ghastly choices

For this is a study of many

Choices

Of things that have happened to determine what will and to save us from what has been

Let us open up this book

And flip each page to see what decrees and laws

Revolutions and words put down on paper

Have anything to do with where we stand today

For the choices of the past still linger here

Mixed in with the choices of the present

Creating this air that we breathe in and out every single day

We would be infuriated with rage as we scan through the pages of this book of choices

A chapter of injustice

A paragraph of cruelty

A statement of selfishness

A line of adultery

But, wait! Oh, let us stop on this

One

story

For this I do not even understand

See I have studied choices, and put them into many formulas

To see the effects and the causes of each

but this story is different

For it is not just one chapter

One statement

One line

It is the whole story and each is intricately woven within it

In fact, the book is titled for this one story

And to begin it would be to start off with a choice

By a God

To send his son

To die for men

Men whose choices we see throughout the whole book

Men whose choices are vile and selfish and ruthless

Sinful men

*****

And yet a God so Holy and pure still sends down his son in His likeness for these grimy men??

See, if we picture it. It is a white cloth, pure and clean not just dipped but completely submerged in dirt

Now that is not a choice that I would make

But it was made

A man so untainted and holy

Came down

To die for the sinner

Who stole from the helpless woman in the ally

Who murdered an innocent child in the womb

Who told a tiny white lie to his mom and dad and gave himself away to drugs and peer pressure

Who lusted after the world and what seemed good but really was death covered in make up whispering

in the promises lie after lie

To die for the sinner who is you

You

Jesus chose to die for you

On that cross, with his hands bound by nails and his feet the same

And with every last breath, last drop of blood and whip of the chain

he thought of you

and that is a choice that no study, no analyzation could ever make sense of

but it was done

it is done

is what he said for you as his arms were spread out wide

and all your choices

he negated the effects, and ultimately the effect of death

and formulated a solution of eternal life instead

for this one choice

changed all the rest

Now, think, think it through

Every choice you make

and every choice that was made is made brand new, infused with grace

Remember this for when there is a test the formula of cause and effect

Still stand true

but also remember Jesus who did what you had to do

for you may make many more flawed choices without a thought

Therefore go down on bended knees gaze at the cross

where stood the Father’s son

never a doubt that this choice for you was a wrong one

that any effect wouldn’t be worth it

you are worth any effect

you are an effect

of that one choice made on the hills of calvary

look up at the cross when your lewd effects force out the mistakes of your personal choices

then resurface that one choice made 2000 years before

bring it up amongst all the confusion and chaos

study it’s economic worth

hold it dear

smile at it even for

that senseless,

unexplainable,

brilliant,

grand,

intricate,

lovel­y,

merciful,

gracious,

holy,

divine,

choice

is all for you
David Chin Oct 2011
Life is a trilogy with birth and death sandwiching
Our life stories into books and chapters are written
Every second with every action and inaction
That we take takes each chapter on a wild ride
Through defeat and triumph and love and hate

Chapters like first kiss and first love and first car
And all of our firsts are only minor chapters when
Compared to chapters like self realization
And self acceptance and self recognition
And other chapters about our internal struggles

Internal struggles like depression or anxiety
Or coping with the death of a close friend or
Family member create cliffhangers and drama
In our books and they make our stories different
From all of the other stories that we read

When we make new friends or unite with old ones
And these struggles can tear pages out of our books
That we don’t want people to read because they are
Too hurtful or too personal or they cut us too deep
That we don’t want other people to find out

The truth of what happened or what we have done
And these torn pages will be a reminder of our past
And it reminds everyone that life isn’t perfect
And that we are all flawed with some more than others
But we are all the same because we have gone through hardship

Our books have twists and turns that make us smile
And they make us cry but no matter what they make
Us think about our own lives and how we can write
The next chapter or rewrite the past or change a few words
But no matter what we change our books will never be complete

Life is a book and we all need to read each other’s book
By looking into our eyes or how we are dressed or how we act
Or through our conversations because our books are constantly
Changing with every second and with everything that we do or don’t do
With every feeling or thoughts we have or how we choose to live

Look into my eyes and you can see that my book
Is no different from yours and my chapters are the same
There is a chapter for depression and for anger and for shame
There is a chapter for all of the happiness in my life thus far
And a chapter for all of the things that I want to accomplish

No matter how our books start the ending will be
The most powerful because that will define our past
How we die and how our books are written will determine
If they will be bestsellers or on the self collecting dust
But no matter what life’s a book and we should all read each other’s
Leah Rae Feb 2013
I'm Stripping Myself Bare For This One. Every Layer That I Meant To Impress, Down To My Bones. The Collection I've Come To Keep Is Now Not My Own.

I Am Now Pages.
Letters.
Ink.
Paper.
Charcoal.
And Pencil Lead.

This Is About What It Means To Give Up,
To Give In,
To Be Empty,
To Be Lonely,
To Be Fragile,
And Broken.

Every Story A Letter Carved In Your Skin, Something To Take With You, The Lyrics You Wrote Down On Bar Napkins, Book Quotes In The Margins Of Notebook Assignments, Love Letters Folded Into Hearts And Stashed Behind Your Eyelids,

It Isn't Just One Story, Its Every Single One Of Them.

Its Why Daddy Is Never Coming Back, And Why We Run Ourselves Bleeding Into A Tissue Paper'd Sky, Wondering When We'll Hit Home.

Chapter 103, Third Paragraph, Sentence 4

She Uses Rusted Razor Blades To Part The Lines Of Her Skin, Open Up Her Veins, Call It A Donation, But It Wasn't For The Collection Plate On Sunday. She Was Trying To Trace Deep Enough Into Herself, To The Point Where She Could Differentiate Between The Surface, And What Part Of Her Makes Her Human.

She Never Got An Answer.

Chapter 1, First Paragraph, Sentence 3

He Can't Pull His Body Out Of Bed In The Morning. No Matter How Many Hours He Sleeps, Its Never Enough. He's Spent Too Many Hours Connecting The Constellation Patterns In The Ceiling Above His Bed, Now He Can't Remember What The Real Stars Look Like, And He's Not Sure We Wants To Any More. Every Morning It's Like Gravity Is Working A Double Shift Making It Next To Impossible To Lift Himself Off The Mattress, He's Tired Of All This Pillow Talk, His Vocal Cords, Folded Line Over Line, And Left Out To Dry.

Hes Always So Tired.

Chapter 214, Last Paragraph, Last Sentence,

She's Bent Over Porcelain Coffins, Emptying Herself Out, Setting Her Esophagus On Fire. Someone Once Told Her Beauty Is Pain, So She's Hell Bent On Smiling Until It Hurts. Determining Her Self Worth In Calories And Pages Of Magazines Stapled Into Her Skin, She'll Only Be Happy When- She'll Only Be Happy If – She'll Only Be Happy When – It's A Never Ending List Of Self Proclaimed Requirements, And She's Never Been Good At Following Any Rules, Except For This One.

She Hates Herself.

Chapter 48, 4th Paragraph, Sentence 6

He Keeps A Bottle Of Absolute Under His Bed, And It's Why Everything Else Means Absolutely Nothing. He's An Engagement Ring Resting At The Bottom Of A Lake For One Too Many Sleepless Summers. Worthlessly Drunk On His Own Sorrow. Some Days Its The Only Thing He Thinks About, Pushing Himself Into The Only Kind Of Darkness He Can Dream In Anymore.

He Can't Remember If Its Worth It.

Chapter 17, 7th Paragraph, Sentence 2

She Can't Stop Giving Herself Away. So Many Hands To Hold Her Already Bruised Flesh, They Call Her Baby, Sweetie, Honey, Love, But None Of Them Stay Around Long Enough For Any Of Those To Stick. She's A Notch In The Bedpost, Face Down In The Mattress, And Sometimes She Doesn't Even Know Their Names. She's The Raven Haired Beauty From The Wrong Side Of The Tracks, And She's Told Herself Its Worth It, Because It's Twenty Minutes Someone's Arms Are Around Her.

She Lets Them Use Her.


This Is The End To Every Book You've Ever Read.
This Is Our Body's Last Stand To A War We've Been Fighting In Our Bones.

We're Asking Every Part Ourselves Why We're Here.

We're Running Out Into The Storm. One Made Of Words, And Weapons, And Sorry Stained Goodbyes. Paperback Regret, Prolog Pretenses, Epilog Broke Back Empathy.
  
We've Got Jaws Bared Tight. Asking  The God Our Parents Pray To, To Give Us All The Answers To All The Questions That Keep Us Awake At Night.

So Here We Are. So Here I Am, Afraid of My Shadow At Seven, Afraid Of Myself At Seventeen.

Afraid Of What I Could Do To Myself.

Afraid Of What My Fingertips Might Feel Like, Turning The Last Page.
But I Always Do, Don't I?
We Always Do, Don't We?

Because We're All Just A Bunch of Self-Destructive Mother-*******, Aren't We?

So This Is Why.
She, He, We & I Are Why.
This Story Is Why.

If Someone Ever Wrote Us into A Support Group, We'd Heal Her Wounds. Not With Bandages Or Stitches, But With Soft Words And Ribbons Around All Her Old Scars. We'd Shake The Dust Off Of His Bones, And Pull Him So Far Out Of Himself, He'd Be New Again, More Alive, More Awake Than He Had Ever Been, We'd  Tell Her She Was Pretty, Beautiful, Stunning, Cover Her in Copper And Sunlight, Tell Her She Didn't Need Anything Except The Skin She Was In, And That Would Be Enough. We'd Empty His Veins Of The Alcohol Poisoning His Blood, And Tell Him Life Is So Much Better When You Can Remember It, We'd Hold Her, How We Should, And Promise Not To Let Go, Hold Her So Tightly It Hurts, And Remind Her How To Love The Right Way.

And There Would Be That Storm. Brewing Inside All Of Us.

And We'd Go Back.

Go Back To The Pressed Flowers We Had Kept Between Encyclopedia Pages.
And We'd Feel The Thunder.
And See The Lightning.
We'd Be Held Tight In Book Jackets, And Leather Bound Binding,

And We'd Promise Each Other Not To Let Go.
I apologize for the type, and the capitalization. Sorry if it's ******* the eyes!
Ayad Gharbawi Dec 2009
THE STORY OF SARA

OR A REFLECTION ON OURSELVES

Ayad Gharbawi

Chapter 4: THE HALLOWED PURIFICATION PROGRAMME




  One night, Omar began to thunder on:
  "No more of the disgusting concepts and ideas created by the Pigs! We should eliminate from our minds every single Pig that is influencing you, and I must say to you all, that I'm not seeing any progress."
  The audience suddenly went all quiet.
  Our leader was not satisfied with our emotional progress.
  We were not purifying our minds in a manner and speed that was satisfactory to the Great Noble Leader Omar.
  "I am looking at you all. I see you; yes, I, Omar, see each one of you. Your eyeballs seem to me to be unsure of what's behind them – I mean, your brains."
  Omar's voice began to talk in a tone that was almost a whisper, whilst the vast audience strained their ears to catch his every precious word.
  "And inside your brains lies our minds. Well, I'm talking about your minds, my friends. I'm not seeing progress. Yes, you do this riot; you **** this Pig; you burn this Pig school – and all of these acts are crucial to our holy cause. But, what about you yourselves? What about your own minds? Maybe you, too, are tainted with some of the Pig mentality yourselves? Now, how about that? Yes? What do you think?"
  The audience gasped.
  Omar began to raise his voice again.
  He was taunting this audience.
  Mocking them.
  Sarcastic.
  "Why, you really are telling me, that you think and feel and believe, that you have the right to **** Pigs?"
  At this question, Omar stopped.
  The audience gasped louder.
  I knew what they were thinking.
  Is our Great Noble Leader questioning our faith in him and in the cause itself?!
  He screamed, almost blowing away the microphones!
  "Why, who gives you the right to be soldiers in this unforgiving, merciless and ferocious war we are waging every day against vastly superior forces? I'll tell you 'who' gives you that right."
  The audience waited in tense anticipation at our leader's answer.
  It was so silent in this vast stadium, you could hear a pin fall.
  "What gives every man, woman and child the right to be a soldier in this brutal struggle is when that soldier has the purest heart and mind. It's as simple as that. And to be 'pure', my friends tonight, is the one who has not a shred, and does not have one ounce of Pig matter. That's right, you heard. Pig matter. Any dog that has even a fleeting Pig thought, is a Pig him or herself!"
  The audience now began to whisper among themselves.
  They seemed to be receiving the light from the words being delivered by Omar.
  Many were saying among themselves, that, 'Yes, we do have Pig thought and ideas and emotions and feelings in our hearts.'


  Omar continued, in a soft voice, after allowing his audience to digest his last words:
  "Yes, that does come as a surprise to you, doesn't it?"
  "Yes!" roared back the audience who now fully submitted to his question and answer.
  "So, I ask you – who are you?" he screamed!
  And the crowds immediately screamed:
  "Pigs! Pigs! Pigs! We are ***** Pigs!"
  Again and again, the crowd seemed to be going a little bit hysterical.
  Some began tearing off their clothes, as if they were trying to 'cleanse' themselves from their Pig thoughts!
  "That's right!" screamed back Omar, furiously and wildly staring with those maniacal eyeballs, like some trapped, ferocious animal, at his audience:
  "Why you yourselves are Pigs! That's right! Come on now! So, what are going to do about you? If you give yourselves the 'right' to **** Pigs, then why don't I have the same 'right' to order my best elite troops to **** you too?"
  "Save us! Save us!" screamed back the audience.
  "Save yourselves!" Omar screamed right back.
  "We are filthy! We are Pigs!" the audience began to insult themselves in all sorts of words and phrases.
  At this point, Omar was shrieking!
  "That's right! You are filthy Pigs yourselves, aren't you now?”
  The audience continued to scream and you couldn’t understand what they were saying anymore.
  Omar went just as suddenly silent.
  He just looked at his followers, and allowed them the need to express themselves.
  After some twenty minutes o this chaotic screaming, Omar became impatient and quickly motioned his followers to be quiet.
  Silence.
  He continued, with a soft tone:
  “So, I hereby announce the following."
  Once again the entire audience become tense.
  What was Omar going to order now?
  "I hereby allow you all, and I mean all our soldiers and not just those sitting with me here in this stadium; I order all of our soldiers to purify themselves of every Pig matter. You will have three months. And then, after that term ends, we will establish courts, to decide wether you have succeeded in cleaning yourselves from these cancerous and murderous feelings and emotions you have. Our courts and our hallowed judges will next decide, case by case, wether you are clean or not!"


  Later, when it appeared that our mostly pathetic, ***** and sick 'soldiers' were simply unable to cleanse their minds from the Pig establishment in three months – since they had no instructions or guidance - Omar, in his eternal grace, patience and humanity, decided to help them, by allowing classes to be held where one teacher would help each and everyone to 'cleanse' themselves.
  Personally, I thought that our Great Noble Leader was decidedly wrong in being so gracious to these so-called soldiers, because, in my opinion, this lot were not worthy of being in our party, and they ought to have been immediately expelled.
  "But, Sara," Omar would gently explain to me in his humble office, surrounded by his most trusted officers, "if we were to purge every undesirable element in the party, I would be left with practically nobody!"
  I took in his gracious words. and then thought about it.
  Why, he was correct, yet again, in his thinking!
  Indeed, if we did purify our party from the filthy ones, we would be left with little more than a handful of true, faithful and clean combatants and that, obviously, meant our self-destruction!
  "You're right, Sir; as usual, I think too hastily. That's why you are the only leader for us; my God, if I, God forbid, were leader, why I would have destroyed the party and our eternally holy cause years ago!"
  "Indeed, indeed, my dear," Omar softly said, but he seemed to have already forgotten my words, and, he was already somewhere else, thinking deeply about another problem.
  And so I, of course, went silent, so as not to disturb him.


  "You know what?" suddenly he asked me, his eyes sparkling with passion.
  "Yes, Sir?"
  "These 'classes' I was talking about. You've studied psychiatry, and I believe that we must use psychiatric methods to purify my subjects."
  Suddenly a strange feeling overcame me; I found the word describing the party members as 'my subjects' a little bit odd.
  Also, didn't Omar call psychiatry a Pig subject for all those years? Indeed, he said everything they taught us at university was evil, and that even the institutions of universities were dens of evil. And, yet, now, he was asking me to help him using what I was learning from my university days?
  "Yes, I can see the path I am talking about Sara. We need to get psychiatrists, like yourself, to tear out, yes, tear out, the filthiness in our party members."
  Suddenly, he got quite excited by his visions.
  "That's right, my dearest one, Sara. Yes, and I appoint you to supervise this programme of purification. That's right, and I shall call it by its simplest name, the 'Programme of Purification'!"
  Suddenly, I got excited as well, forgetting my previous disturbance.
  "That would be such a heroic move on your part, Sir." I gleefully told Omar.
  I feel that not only was he the saviour for our nation, but that he was also a personal saviour for myself.
  "Yes, I see my vision where it is leading us to. My dear Sara; you will set up these classes and you will bring the psychiatrists and you will purify the ***** elements in our classes."
  I got nervous again, for I just realized the magnitude of the job Saviour Omar was demanding I do for him!
  "And therefore, I Omar call for an immediate ceasefire against all Pigs!"
  Everyone in the office stood there in a state of shock!
  A ceasefire against the damnable Pigs?!
  Holy Omar could, of course, read our faces and smiled.
  "But Holy Sir," one officer softly asked, "how can we have a ceasefire against the most evil forces in the history of our country?"
  "And, Sir," asked another officer, "if we stop our eternally pure and humanistic battle against the disease-ridden pigs, wouldn't the latter take that as a sign of weakness on our part?"
  Next, saviour Omar raised his hand.
  Everyone went silent.
  He looked at us.
  There were no words from his mouth.
  We waited humbly.
  Geniuses take their time to formulate the right structure of words, not because they don't know what to say, but they do so that we fools can understand what they have to say.
  It is out of concern for us.
  Omar finally spoke:
  My clean, pure soldiers. We must declare a ceasefire, for I have no other choice. As a humanist, how can I allow impure elements from our party to fight and **** Pigs, when they themselves are still 'impure'? Where is the morality in that?"
  Suddenly, I couldn't help but feel such fanatical love for this man; I can only describe his man and his words, as pieces of Heaven coming down to us inferior beings, and if we are decent, then we must grab every shred and piece that he utters, so we can, in turn, save our impure souls.
  "Beautiful thoughts indeed, my Gracious Leader!" I said.
  Then I turned to the listeners:
   "What's wrong with the rest of you? If, one of our 'own' party members was impure, then by what right does he and she have to fight and **** Pigs? We must cease all out activities, until we have a purified party! It's simple and obvious!"
  Thereupon followed silence.


I was speaking the obvious.
  Finally, a voice spoke:
  "So, how exactly are these psychologists going to 'purify' the 'minds' of our party members?"
Good question – one that I had not thought about.
  Indeed, how, and by what means, were we going to purify the undesirables?
  And then, just at the right moment, Omar spoke his words:
  "Yes, that is a great question. There's no use giving orders that no one knows how they are to be carried out. You see, it will not only be the job of psychiatrists who will purify the filthy ones. No, we will force the filthy ones, to ***** out every filthy thought, feeling, and idea; and we shall make sure that all these impure thoughts and feelings and convictions will be screamed out of their minds."
  At that last phrase, once again, I found myself pausing and thinking, what an odd thing to say!
  I got lost in my thinking.
  After all, Omar always, and I mean always choose his words carefully, for he would always make it a point to be so careful with the choice of his words, so that his credibility would never be in doubt and so people do understand that that he means exactly whatever he says.
  I must confess, I was completely confused.
  On the one hand, I had such deep reverence, complete love and a total need for Omar, and then, there was a part of me, that simply didn’t understand what he was talking about!
  I remembered, once more, how everything was so nice and easy and simple with Tony.
  But, I assume, that Tony was a general doctor, whereas Omar was a surgeon, and so, with Omar, we had to face a far more complex situation.
  "What do you mean by that, Sir?" asked one of the officers, waking me up from my thoughts.
  "I mean, it shall be the duty of every party member to purify every other party member. We must all be psychiatrists! This will be done, of course, under the supervision of the leader psychiatrist in each class. He or she will guide you, as to how to get every party member to rip out every Pig attribute in our party members. It's as simple as that."
  At that, Omar gestured to indicate that the meeting was over, and so we left.
  I kept thinking that his idea was, I'm sure, utterly brilliant, but how in practice were going to do this?


  He left his office far too soon.
  We had too many questions to ask, and yet, by leaving us, Omar was, in effect, giving us a 'programme' to do, but without clear, precise orders.
  So, how were we going to carry out his orders?
  What did he mean that 'we must all become psychiatrists'!
  That was absolutely absurd!
  Untrained people cannot simply 'become' psychiatrists, even if they are 'led' by psychiatrists – or to use Omar's words, to be 'guided' by psychiatrists.
  So, Omar's idea seemed to me, to be really a recipe for a catastrophe for our party.
  The more I thought of it, the more I found my mind asking myself the question: why was Omar insisting on this 'purification programme' in the first place?
  Couldn't the party and its members simply continue the struggle, without having to enforce this ridiculous programme?
  And didn't Omar realize that his insistence on us carrying out his orders to do the purification programme, was going to cause absolute chaos, disruption and ultimately mass desertions and expulsions from our party?
  In other words, Omar's sudden 'need' to 'purify' our own members seemed to me to be a self destructive act that would seriously damage the party.


The ceasefire announcement was barely noticed by the Pigs – which came as a shock to many of us.
  The government didn't seem to actually care at our ceasefire announcement.
  Indeed, the Pigs declared that what they termed as the 'social troubles' was, in effect, 'over' and so, therefore, the country could breathe a sigh of relief, and people could now be 'happy'.
  I didn't believe what the government was saying.
  I was of course nauseated by the hypocrisy of the Pig leaders, because, their pronouncements were lies, as usual, and they would of course, continue their merciless war against us, while we had to cease our fire.
  Yes, Leader Omar was probably correct, but I was **** frustrated, because it seemed to me, for the first time since I joined the party, that the Pigs may now well win the struggle.
  It was obvious to me!
  For how on planet earth could we 'win' a war, when we were not allowed to fight, while the same eternal enemy would continue his war against us?!
  Also, to be very honest, I'm not sure that we could 'purify' Pigs in the first place.
  It seemed to me to be a contradiction!
  I would simply have to swallow whatever Leader Omar ordered us to do.
  God knows, he's proven to be correct every time before, and maybe, he will confound us once more with his superior wisdom.
  Have faith, Sara, have faith!
  Never question the Great Leader, for he is superior to all of us; after all, that’s why he’s the ‘Great Leader’ in the first place!
  Keep the faith!
  How can we understand what a su
Candice Jan 2016
Endings are painful, who doesn't agree right?
they say that this is the end of everything you once had,
or the time that you recall memories,
no matter how bad, ugly or painful.
But for me,
endings are just new beginnings,
yes something has to end,
but something will also start.
A new chapter of your story,
a chapter wherein you can apply your learnings from the past,
a new chapter wherein there's a room for a change,
and a new chapter wherein you become stronger and tougher.
Endings can somehow give us happiness,
we can live without doubts,
we can live without even worrying 'bout the past,
and it can give us hope to keep striving and working hard.
So, let us not worry about our life's ending,
your story is what you will make it,
and if it becomes the chapter you don't want,
then be free and open for endings for it is a new start.
HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS!!
She wants to paint my hands on all her body
For hidden treasure my beloved needs a key
For innocent desire she does not have any plea
To her intoxicated youth I am bound to agree

When she takes a step to show her real beauty
Her every sip is more intoxicant than brandy
Soft and juicy like a fruit of red tasty cheery
Beauty is to light  as to capture is love's hobby

I want to take in my heart and in my eyes forever
To my every love question your beauty is answer
For my love life you are just like a real barn burner
My book of beauty let me read you chapter by chapter

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
There is no need to dwell on the exterior cliche of an injured soldier, the propaganda is superficial. Civilians have only plastic green men, heavy dusty movie set costumes, and Army-of-One heroes to populate stereotypes. Keep your images larger than life, no use touching up a paint-by-number. Mine was banal, foolish, and 19; enough said.

One fence is the fraternity itself, the next is brain injury. No other way to understand but be there. A Solid-American-Made-Dashboard cracked my forehead at 45mph.
Crumpling into the footwell,
unaware that the flatbed's rear bumper
was smashing thru the passenger windshield above me
the frame stopped just shy of decapitating my luckily unoccupied seat.
Our vehicle's monstrous hood had attempted to murderously bury us under,
but the axle stopped momentum's fate and ended the carnage under dark iron.
Shards of my identity joined the slow, pulverized, airborn chaos.
Back, Deep, Gone.

Unconsciousness is the brain's frantic attempt to re-wire neurons, jury rig broken connections, the doctor's desperate attempt to re-attach, stand back and say, good enough. Essential systems limply functioned, but unessential ones were ditched. Years later a military doctor diagnosed an eventual triage: Hypothalimus disconnected from the Pituitary Gland, Executive Function damaged, long pathways for emotional regulation interrupted.

I woke up still kinda bleeding, crusty blood in my hair, a line of frankenstein stitches wandering across my forehead.   My sense of self had literally dissolved into morning dust floating in a sterile hospital sunbeam.  My name was down the hall, words and the desire to speak were on a different floor.  Life became me and also a separate me under constant renovation, a wrecking ball on one half, scaffolding and raw 2x4's the other.

Waking up in the hospital, I realized I needed help to get the blood cleaned up.   A nurse came in, largely glared at me in disregard, and quickly left… for an hour.   She returned and brusquely dropped a useless ace comb and gauze on the blanket over my feet and abandoned me again.  This was my introduction to the shame of a VA hospital.  I minced my way to the bathroom, objectively examined my face in the mirror with shocking stitches above one swollen eye.  Gingerly rinsing my hair, the water ran pink in white porcelain.  I remembered the sound in my skull between my ears when a doctor scraped a metal tool across my skull, cleaning debris before stitching.  I recalled that in the ER I was asking Is he ok, repeating it like a broken record, knowing I should stop but I couldn’t.  There was also perhaps a joke about an Excedrin headache.

It was morning, and since there was no such thing as time or purpose or feelings anymore, I wandered to the hall with my only companion, the IV pole. One side was a wall of windows, and I was, what, 10 or 12 stories up from the streets of a much larger city than where I crashed.  The hall was warm and sunny.  I wheeled my companion to a blocky square vinyl chair to sit next to a pay phone.  I didn’t have any thoughts at all, or care about it.   After about an hour my first name floated up from the void, then with some effort my last name.  It took the rest of the morning to remember I had a brother.  After lunch we resumed our post, and I spent the afternoon in concentration piecing together his phone number.  God had pushed the reset button.

Thirty years ago the doctors didn't understand head injuries; they only recognized the physical symptoms. At first there was good reason to be permanently admitted to the hospital.  My blood pressure was unstable, sometimes so low that drawing blood for tests caused my veins to collapse even with baby needles.  My thyroid had shut down completely, only jump-started again with six months of Synthroid.  I had to learn to live with crashing blood sugar and fluctuating appetite.  For years afterwards, any stress would cause arrhythmias, my heart filling and skipping out of sync, blood pressure popping my skull.  Will the clock stop this time?  

There is always at least one momentous event in every person’s life that becomes punctuation, before and after.  The other side of Before the accident truly was a different me.  I have a vague recollection of who that person may have been, and occasionally get reminders.   Before, I was getting recruiting letters from Ivy League colleges and MIT, a high school senior at sixteen.  After, I couldn’t balance a checkbook or even care about a savings account in the first place.  Before, I had aced the military entrance exam only missing one question, even including the speed math section.  They told me I could chose any rating I wanted, so I chose Air Traffic Control.  Twenty years later, I thumbed through old high school yearbooks at a reunion.   I saw a picture of me in the Shakespeare Club, not recalling what that could have been about.   On finding a picture of me in the Ski Club I thought, Wow, I guess I know how to ski.   A yellowed small-town newspaper article noted I was one of two National Merit Scholars; and in another there’s a mention of a part in the High School Musical.  

This side of After, I kept mixing right with left, was dyslexic with numbers, and occasionally stuttered with word soup.  Focus became separated from willpower, concentration was like herding cats.  The world had become intense.

(chapter 1 continues in memoir)
Teressa Sambo99 Feb 2016
Before the last chapter
ends
Let us make amends to
the people we've
wronged
To those we love
let us cherish each
moment we share
with them

Before the last chapter
closes
Roses will still be
red
The sky will still be
blue
Our five senses will
still be true

After the chapter we'll
depature
we'll leave earth
before the rapture
We will live a new
life
startin' on a new
lane
not from money
or fame
We will get everything
in his name
As he will forever
reign

The last chapter is near
Do not fear
The Lord is here
My life's book has been good
Not each chapters title has been perfect
Not every turned page has read of what's expected or hoped for
Most have been beautiful
Some very sad
Not every title of every chapter is a title I've wished to read
But each one has been a part of my life
And whatever the title is when the page of the last chapter is turned
I have always made it through to the next chapter
But this new chapter has taken me by complete surprise
It's title is one I wish could be torn out and thrown away
This new chapters title is;
Cancer
I've only had the chance to read the first few pages of the chapter
And what I have read thus far
I do not like
This is a chapter I would love to pass over
But I would not get the complete story if I did
As if I even can
So I continue to read each day
Every morning is a new pages beginning
Where will the story take me
I do not know
But I shall keep on reading.
My father was diagnosed with lung cancer yesterday . This is a road I have never traveled , but like all other journeys I have been on, this one too will be travelled with faith and hope and trust.
Psalms121:1-2
I will lift my eyes to the mountains,
where does my help come from.
My help comes from the Lord,
the maker of heaven and earth.
Softly, gently, I  sipped
your red cherry-lip petals
patiently, silently, I grabbed
your brown nip-let buds
deeply, knowingly, I drowned
into your blue eye-oceans
The feminine body turns
to be  a dates garden
amidst my own
barren desert !


Williamsji Maveli
Email: williamsji@yahoo.com

*
KGA (UAE Chapter)
Literary award for Poetry declared for
Williamsji Maveli’s   “Arramviralthumbath…”
The Kallettumakara Gblobal Association (KGA), UAE Chapter has announced their first poetry award for excellence to Williamsji Maveli's  third  poetry collection   titled as “Arramviralthumbath …”  (On the tip of the 6th finger,  published by H & C Books, Trichur) .The award has been declared  by Mathew David, Chairman of KGA at their Executive Committee meeting held recently in Sharjah Emirate of United Arab Emirates.  The award has  also been considered for his poetic works scattered in his recently published book named  as “Maa Salama."  ( means "With peace"  in Arabic). The poems have been gathered from different desert sketches,  focusing on his real-time life experiences ,while he was working in UAE for more than 30 years.  Williamsji, (Williams George),   former Ras Al Khaimah based Journalist and lyricist of tester-years has been nominated for a literary award for the first time for literature. The Award is being formulated by KGA  (Kallettumkara Global Association, UAE Chapter) for  outstanding contributions to literature  from the native writers  of Kallettumkara,  a village town in Trichur, Kerala in India.  The award will be presented by the KGA’s UAE Chapter on the grand occasion of their 10th anniversary, which is being scheduled to be held during September, this year,
according to Mathew David, Chairman of Kallettumkara Global Association.
Translated from original poem in Malayalam to English by the author. Extracted from ARRAMVIRALTHUMBATH....(At the tip of the 6th finger, written by WILLIAMSJI, published by H & C BOOKS, Trichur, Kerala in India
www.williamsji.com
www.christ-bcom.com
Violet Blue Jul 2015
I feel like I'm starting a new chapter in my life
I don't know what it entails
But I have a good feeling about it
I hope it brings joy, love, and something to do
I've been offered an opportunity soon
So I hope that goes well
I'm ready to start this new chapter
And I'm happy
Leigh Marie Mar 2016
Chapter 1: Lie-Lie-Lie or else bye-bye-bye
“How have u been?”
“good, thanks :)”

Chapter 2: What are you hiding, anyways?
Well not really my shoulders feel light, but the weight of the world seems to be pressing down on my chest as I lay in bed

Chapter 3: Why?
I have been meaning to tell you, but how do I cough out the words?

Chapter 4: Be honest (with yourself, only)
I feel as though Mother Earth has taken hold of my neck and pushing on my sternum, I gasp for breath, but as I finally get a full inhale, my air is pushed right out of me
I lay, watching the world go by

I feel mother’s hand cover my mouth with her other hand, muffling my cries for help
I grip onto my fondest memories for hope, my happiest times run through my brain like a double feature movie
I lock eyes with mother, as she holds me down
I see the fear in her eyes
Mother nature does not want to do this to me, it was just my luck of the draw
My pleading eyes beg her to fill me up with the antidote
Theres a fix for this feeling, I know it
I finally get up, I swallow the two white battleship pills, and I pray that they work
My day has begun, and I start my routine
I go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, wash my face, put in my contacts
I then go right to my bed and meticulously make it
I get dressed, pants first
Next is makeup, then I put on my shirt
I decorate my wrists and fingers with jewelry
I sit down, pull my black socks over my feet, lace my shoes and prepare to leave
I do this routine every day
In order, bathroom bed, pants, makeup, shirt, jewelry
I do not go deviate from this sequence; schedules rule my life
My fingers take turns touching my thumbs
Pinky, ring, middle, first, middle, ring, pinky, ring, middle, first, middle, ring, pink
The tapping of my fingers keep rhythm for my day, my anxious energy exits through my finger tips, a quick relief
I am endlessly fidgety, my legs dance in circles, swaying as I sit and shuffling as I stand
My fingers pick and **** at my skin, my hair, they rub roughly against the palm of my hand, making sure everything is still there
My eyes, they never stay still
And my mind never rests
It is constantly jumping, jumping, jumping
It gives me a headache
My schedule for my day rolls through my head on an endless loop, I map out all of the options of what people may think of me, and I create routes for how to respond for each scenario
My fingers scratch at my face, smoothing out the impurities
Pinky ring middle first middle ring pinky
My hand goes back to my face, like it is the first time discovering my cheek bones
Pinky ring middle first middle ring pinky
I smooth my lips, pressing them into my teeth
Pink ring middle first middle ring pinky
At 12 pm I’ll get lunch
Pinky ring middle first
Then at 1 I’ll go back to my room
Middle, ring
I’ll have to leave by 1:40 to make it to class
Pinky
Afterwards I’ll nap for 35 minutes, allowing perfect time to get to the gym
Ring, middle, first

Chapter 5: the follow up
“how are you? lol I got distracted, sorry”

**Middle, ring, pinky
When Faith and Love landed at the chapel Wisdom was waiting for them.  "Love and Faith I've been waiting patiently for the two of you.  I've spoken with Loyalty on my communicator.  He and Knowledge will be here shortly and then you can pledge yourselves to each other" said Wisdom.  Just as the three were speaking Grace walked out of the Chapel.  
"Hello Love and Faith it's about time the two of you showed up" said Grace.  "It's good to have a star for a friend who's gifted in all the arts" said Love.  Love threw her arms around Grace and gave her a big squeeze.  "Lets get you in your wedding dress.  If you'll follow me to your dressing room we can get started" said Grace.
As Love and Faith followed behind Grace, Knowledge and Loyalty landed at the chapel.  Wisdom received Loyalty with a strong handshake and said "Your wife to be is already changing in her wedding dress.  May I say she's as beautiful as the morning dew.  Lets get you changed" said Wisdom.  After a few seconds of changing Loyalty, Wisdom, and Knowledge stood at the altar waiting on Love.  
"Wow Love you look absolutely beautiful" said Faith standing to the right of Love.  "Yeah Faith is right.  You are stunning.  Now remember don't have the doors opened leading to the altar until I start singing" said Grace standing to the left of Love.  "I know Grace.  C'mon lets go" said Love as she stood in front of the mirror.
Grace took her place at the altar with Loyalty, Knowledge, and Wisdom and began to sing.  Shrouded in light Love enters the room.  She timed her entrance just right.  The light that Love emitted filled the entire chapel.  Love stood before Loyalty and a chapel full of wedding guests holding a bouquet of pink Lilies and wearing a crown of Olive leaves.  The words that walked out of the mouth of Wisdom lingered in the air like leaves floating on the winds of serenity.  "Devoutly righteous we come together in the presences of the Almighty to join in holy matrimony a pairing to be respected by all.  Love will you have Loyalty to be your husband?  Will you nurture him, care for him, and watch over him as long you both shall live?"  With eyes full of Joy Love answers "I will."  
Wisdom looked at Loyalty and said "Loyalty will you have Love to be your wife?  Will you stand by her, protect her, and provide for her as long as you both shall live?"  With eyes full of courage Loyalty answers "I will."
"By all things holy the bride and groom may kiss" said Wisdom.  As Love and Loyalty came together their wedding guests erupted with praise.
Love turned her back to her wedding guests and threw her bouquet of pink Lilies over her head.  Without thinking Faith leaped into the air catching the bouquet before it landed in the hands of Mercy.  Faith looked at Truth and winked her eye.  Love turned around to see who caught the bouquet.  "Wow you sillies let Faith catch the bouquet" said Love.  With a pout on her face Mercy said "We didn't know she could leap like that."  "Hey you got to do what you got to do" argued Faith.  "Lets wrap this up so me and my wife can start our new life" said Loyalty.  "File this in your memory.  Our new life started when you asked me to marry you" said Love.  As Love and Loyalty gazed into each other's eyes Wisdom tells Understanding to grab the cage with the two doves.
"Now if everyone would follow me outside" said Wisdom.  
On the outside of the chapel Wisdom said "Just as these doves soar into freedom may your marriage soar on the breeze of Serenity."  Wisdom motions for Understanding to release the doves.  Spreading their wings the doves take flight.  "Now it's official" proclaimed Faith.  
Faith stepped in front of Loyalty and Love and said "Now close your eyes.  We have a surprise for you."  "Come on Faith do we have to?" asked Loyalty.  "Loyalty do you want your surprise or not?" questioned Faith.  Loyalty and Love closed their eyes and waited on their surprise.  "Ok now open your eyes" said Faith.  When Love and Loyalty opened their eyes they were happy with what they saw.  "A NEW NEO 7000!  I THOUGHT YOU BOUGHT THE LAST ONE!" said Love.  "I did after we all bought yours I bought mine" said Faith.  Love gave Faith a hug and a kiss on her cheek.  Love thanked Faith and the rest of her friends.  Loyalty grabbed Love by her hand and said "I thank all of you but it's time for us to go."  
The newly married couple got into their transporter and took off.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Sienna Nov 2018
it was perfect
so when it ended
i fell apart.

i ripped out the pages
i threw them into the wind
they blew behind me.

but then i asked myself
how could i destroy what remained of our chapter?
how could i tear something apart that told a story so innocent?
so beautiful?

after all, it wasn't our fault that it was over.

so i picked up the pages
i put them back together
and i read our chapter once more.

it was then that i realized
our chapter
was just your chapter in my book.

so i looked to the next one
saw it was blank,
and wrote my name.

that one was gonna be about me.
Joliver Jul 2018
Chapter 18 is coming to a close soon
And with it comes
The beginning of the next
Featuring a new setting
New characters
And new potential for growth

When I think of the novel of my life
And how short a story it could have been
And how the main characters
Have changed over the years
I always end up
Back in study hall
During lonely chapters 15 and 16
And think of how
The only thing I studied
In that hour and a half every week
Was a dark hallway in my mind
Where each door I opened
Lining the walls on either side
Held the darkest thoughts of my life
Thoughts of how I could end it
All too soon
My study hall was filled with studying
All the ways I wished I could just stop breathing
And when I look back on it now
All I think of
Is how the one person who was there for me
Can't stand me
Because I was a mistake
Our two years together was a mistake
She says
And I don't want to believe it's true
But deep down I think I was a mistake too
And my own parents didn't notice
The numb machine their son had become
But they get worried when I stop talking to them now
Because I realized that I have nothing to say
To the people I share a home with
Because they
Know nothing about me
And the person I've become
But they try to enforce
Their irrelevant morals
While invading my privacy
And destroying any trust
I can't wait to get out of this house
And for someone to finally tell me
That I can breathe
Because
I am suffocating

Whenever I try
To reach out to the people who raised me
I am always
Always
Always
Reminded of why I don't
I reached critical mass the other day
Finally had enough
Of the way my brain works
Like a broken record
Playing nothing but white noise
And reached out to get the help
That I can't provide myself
And they swatted my hand away
And gave me a band-aid
In the form of a five minute talk
To cover a wound
A lifetime long
That I have been trying
To stitch together
On my own
For years

But it's fine
In the classical story arc every character
Faces hurdles along the way
And soon the next chapter of my life will begin
Just please
Won't someone
Just tell me that I can breathe?
I can't wait to start college...
Ayad Gharbawi Dec 2009
THE STORY OF SARA


AYAD GHARBAWI


CHAPTER 3: BEING AN ACTIVIST

  
Gradually, we become ever more radical in our burning quest to uproot every conceivable element of the corrupting culture of the oppressors.
  We soon started to call these oppressors 'Pigs', because that is exactly what they were: overweight, bloated, filthy animals who live simply eat and consume all day, and who love to live in their own excrement.
  The Pigs had to be removed, because you cannot negotiate with a pig.
  It was so obvious to me!
  Some people did, indeed, argue that diplomacy and negotiations were the way to achieve our blessed equality-based society, but that was pure idiocy to me; because, for Heaven's sake, a pig will remain a pig and cannot become an 'enlightened' pig! These criminals, who are creating poverty, and who are killing people, because they do not allow them decent health services, must be completely eradicated, or else, ordinary people will continue to suffer.
  One day I heard Tony give a speech in front of a huge audience: "There's no point in cutting the tail of the snake. No, you must go straight for the head, and that's how you **** it!" And there ensued roars and cheers, from the mainly young crowd. "And, if someone is trying to **** you, what do you do? Negotiate? Talk to them? No, you **** them first, that's what you do! That's who the Pigs are, my friends. They are out there killing you, and so many of you tonight are simply not even remotely aware that you are dying slowly – so, you must, first of all wake up, and realize that someone, somewhere, is draining out the blood of your life, and next you must identify the cancer that is killing you. So, who's the cancer?" Tony screamed, and the by now delirious crowds immediately responded with a thunderous and hate-filled, "Pigs! Pigs! Pigs!"
  "The Pigs talk and teach us about 'morality' and 'respect' and 'decency', and other subjects like that. That's laughable now, isn't it?! I mean, the blood stained mass murderer is teaching us etiquette here?!"
  "No! No!" roared back the audience. "**** the pigs! **** the pigs!" they suddenly and somehow instantaneously started to chant. So, I must correct what many people think about Tony, and that is, he 'invented' and popularized that phrase, '**** the pigs". No, he didn't; it was the audience that night who spontaneously came up with that really exciting and vibrant phrase!
  From then on, violence became more common along with the never ending chants – if not screams – of '**** the pigs!' Every day, and all over the country, the movement had flourished, and there were the most refreshing and gloriously destructive riots in almost every major city.

  It was at this time that I first heard a speech from Omar.
We waited for the man to appear, but he seemed nowhere to be found.
  My God, I heard from so many people that he was the most radical in the deepest sense of the word!
  Apparently, he made Tony sound like a child!
  He also had a well disciplined party – unlike Tony.
  Here was a place that I can find the ‘cause of my life’!
  I could work for Omar and that would be the point of my life!
  The thought thrilled me – because I was already a convert to their ideas, but with Omar, there was a real party that was actively fighting the government, whereas Tony and other leaders like him were independent activists, but with no party behind them.
    Then, Omar suddenly appeared.
  He was of medium height, average looks - but it wasn’t long before you noticed his inexpressibly burning, fanatical eyes!
  I was about a few metres from him, and I could feel the sheer intensity of passion and rage within those eyeballs!
  This man must have absolutely the words of truth, for no Man could look like that and be a liar!
And then he gently spoke:
  "**** the pigs, I hear you say. Well, that's not good enough for me. People like that make me yawn. And, I'm bored of yawning every day. We need more. We need to move on faster. I need speed. It's not just '**** the pigs', it's '**** the cops!', because the cops defend the Pigs and attack us every day; '**** the teachers!' because every teacher does nothing except to teach us with pointless information'. And, '**** every human being' who sides or serves the establishment!”.
  Omar’s eyes were literally able to stab right through your heart and soul simply by staring at you!
  I can well imagine that my reader will not believe me and will say it was because I was a convert to Omar’s ideas that I found his eyes to be so abnormally powerful – but, what do you say to all those people who did not like him, and who met him, and yet, they, too, all said that his eyes were profoundly piercing?!
  So, you see, reader, do believe me – it’s not because I was emotionally enthralled by Omar, that I am describing him to you the way I do!
  He had beautifully framed fingers – I don’t know why I noticed that!
  He had a rather longish nose – maybe, that was one defect in his face, but you hardly noticed that, given the other attractions in this man.
  And then he possessed the deepest, most guttural, and yet so sweetly melodic voice, that I had ever heard, and when he spoke, he simply entranced me – not to mention the thousands of others.
  Omar continued, beginning to raise his ragged voice:
“And, so I order you, tonight, and tomorrow, and every day, to fanatically and ruthlessly exterminate every visible sign, agent, artist, writer, philosopher, painter, sculptor, journalist, teacher, professor, lawyer, doctor, surgeon, banker, engineer, everyone who works in the mass media like the television, every film maker, every scientist, and every single employer and employee of the Pigs."
  The audience now simply shrieked the verb, '****! ****! ****!’ while Omar went silent, amidst this wild orchestra of hate being played out.


  I noticed, that unlike Tony, Omar wouldn't gesticulate or move his hands at all.
  Actually, he just stood there, rock solid, like a statue while only eyes and mouth spoke!
  The man, I swear, looked like a 'human rock'!
  He was the absolute epitome of boundless hatred; of unrestrained defiance against the rulers ruling us!
  Yes, I do admit, and I hesitate to say so, but, yes, he almost did like completely maniacal – were it not for his self control and the beauty of his words!
  The audience relaxed.
  Omar waited until there was silence, and he continued:
  "Do you see the difference between what I am saying and what brothers like Tony say? People like Tony demand from us to uproot the pigs. But what Pigs does he, in fact, mean? Who does he mean, when he says 'Pigs'? He means the rich. That's it.”


  Now, Omar abruptly went silent.
  Tension.
  He was staring at us.
  I could feel that the audience felt nervous precisely because Omar was staring at them.
  Finally, he continued:
  “Can you imagine the limits of his intellect?! To Tony and his misguided followers, the solution facing the problem before us is simple enough: you simply wipe out the rich, and suddenly we have the beautiful society!"
  Omar was sneering, being utterly sarcastic in his voice and tone.
  "So is that it, Brother Tony? Is that all we need to do?”
  There, he stopped again, with a sarcastic, wicked smile on his face.
  The man’s body simply had no motion in it!
  I was waiting to see, if Omar would, at some point, move his body or his arms, but so far nothing!
  He continued:
“My goodness, I never knew that the gigantic problem facing us was to be solved in such a simple manner! But, no, you're being fools. Or, maybe you're fooling your selves. Either way, I don't know, and more importantly, I don't care, because, as I told you all out there listening to me,” suddenly, he began to scream with his rasping voice:
  “I'm a serious man, with a serious mission, and above all, I'm a man in a hurry!"
  Again, Omar went suddenly silent.
  I could sense, that he was deliberately teasing the audience, because they were obviously desperate for him to continue speaking, while he, would every so often stop speaking, thus adding to the tension in the atmosphere!
  The audience laughed, loving the biting sarcasm; obviously there were lots of rivalry and jealousies between the two camps, and so Omar's followers just loved to hear the buckets of insults being poured upon the followers of Tony.
  The mocking tone continued:
  "These fools are retarding our own path to victory! These followers of Brother Tony, are doing the dumbest acts that I have ever seen. I mean, what do you mean and what are you trying to achieve, when you have his followers going to restaurants and disrupting the place? I mean, is this what the definition of 'stupidity' is, or what?!"
  The crowd cheered: "Yes! Yes! Idiots!"
  "Listen here Brother Tony; I would like to say, 'it's all right, you're still young and you'll soon grow up'. But I can't say that. You know why?"
  The audience waited as Omar paused.
  He was staring at his audience.
  Suddenly, he erupted with his deafening scream:
  "I can't wait. Didn't I already tell you that? Didn't I tell you I'm a man IN A HURRY AND I'VE GOT TO DO MY WORK! DON'T YOU PEOPLE OUT THERE GET IT?"
  He roared, and the masses applauded furiously.
  "I don't have time, for children like Tony, and for his own little children, to stand in my way, and wait for them to grow up! I don't have the time, because I have an enemy out there, that needs to be completely, ruthless and fanatically exterminated, root and branch, do you now follow me?"
  "Yes! Yes! We follow!" screamed the masses.
  Silence.
  And then, Omar continued:
  "So, we know who Tony defines as the Pigs. What about myself? We must talk the talk of the brave. If you're scared, then get out of here. Why do I say this? Because this struggle requires the most ruthless behaviour on our part, and to be ruthless, you need to be brave, and to be rave means you have no fear."
  It sounded almost as if he were singing.
  Or maybe it was my imagination.


"So, who are the Pigs, you ask me? Simple. The Pig is a man, woman and child who has any Pig Attributes. What do I mean by 'Pig Attributes'? Very simple. Any human, who has in his brain, any idea, concept, believe and acceptance of any value from the rulers who rule us all. And, what are these 'values' that come from our dear rulers? They are ideas and values such as: there are the simple ones, like the belief in the right to profit, belief in the right of property, inheritance and so on. Then, there are the other beliefs, such as, belief in compassion for the rich, or cooperating with the rich or socialising with the rich. You follow?"
  The audience was silent.
  "That means, any human in our sick society, poor or not, who in any way, not only physically interacts with the rulers is a Pig himself, but also any human, poor or not, who has in his heart and mind, any empathy for the rich is a Pig himself, and so therefore, it follows – and I hope you people out there are listening to me – it means, therefore, that a poor human being who has any Pig Attributes, is a Pig himself, just like the rulers themselves. Do you understand?"
  Silence.
  And then he walked out.


  It was so sudden, because I expect a really screaming end from Omar, but to the surprise of everyone, he ended and simply walked out!
  But, I, understood what he meant.
  Basically, he was enlarging the definition of what it meant to be the 'enemy'.
  This struggle was now going to be infinitely more difficult. With Tony, the war was simple enough.
  We were 'right' while anyone belonging to the ruling class was 'evil' and that was it.
  Obviously, no member in the ruling class can deny that he's in the ruling class! They can even change their accents and their clothes, pretending to be poor, but there are computers and archives, such as birth certificates, school records, and it doesn't take long, to find out a person's origins.
  But now what Omar was proposing, that a Pig is any human being who interacts with the ruling class is evil.
  Also, anyone who has any thoughts that have any Pig Attributes (for example, being pro-ruling class), are also evil, and therefore, had to be eliminated.
  In other words, the poor can be Pigs as well.
  I loved that, because, I was never comfortable with most other left leaders, including Tony, who only focused their ire against the rich.
  To them all the poor were ‘blessed’ and ‘sinless’, and I knew, from my own background, that they simply romanticised the poor, probably because they themselves were all rich people who had never lived one day of their lives in poverty.
  With Omar, being impure, or sinful could be anyone in society – and, your background or class didn’t matter.
  That was far more logical to me!

But with joining Omar’s party, came other problems for me.
How were we supposed to ‘find’ a Pig, or an impure person?
  How can we be sure if a person has the Pig Attributes in his mind?
  It seemed ludicrous to me!
  I had doubts because as attractive an orator that Omar was, once you went home and thought about what he actually said, a lot did not make sense.
  I had so many ideas that contradicted what Omar had to say.
  For example, can’t we achieve our goals by peaceful means – rather than choosing the path of violence?
  And if we must use violence, then why don’t we attack military targets and not civilians?
  Wasn’t it wrong to target civilians and civilian places – like factories, farms, and shops?

  
  There he stood; eyes blazing as ever.
  What makes eyes 'blaze' I wondered.
  They don't actually emit any light, do they?
  So how can one man have such penetrating, piercing eyes that go right to your innermost heart?
  Omar seemed to be made of steel.
  Or, maybe it was all in my imagination, as Sanji would always be telling me.
  It was his personality and also his body language: that stern, stiff way of standing, that seemed to be the epitome of defiance against the evil in the world!
  His whole body seemed to be chiselled from the purest marble; there he stood, this heroic rock, against the tyranny of the storms and the oceans that were crashing on him; and still, there he stood, not only in supreme piety, but also, there he stood, waging a struggle against these very dark forces of evil.
  He will rid our society and our nation from evil, and one day, we shall live in a truly happy country.
  This nation and its sad people, this nation that has so many miserable, poor and unhappy people, will soon be able to live free, happy lives, without the burdens and the shackles imposed on them by the ruling elites.
  He spoke:
"They need to be utterly, and without a shred of human mercy, be exterminated, or else, it is us, who will be exterminated! It is either them or us! We need to cleanse our entire body from these cancerous cockroaches. Don't you people understand? Call it '******', call it 'exterminate', call it 'butchering them' – I do not care; what I do care and what I need in order to breathe uncontaminated, fresh air,  is to surgically and methodically and blindly eliminate the very existence of every Pigs on our land! That is why we have no choice but to fight. The criminals leave us with no choice. If they surrender their corrupting ways agai

— The End —