The Last of June

The last day of June comes early this year: stars twinkling magically, the eastern sky transforms into the morning twilight, slowly the roads begin to be laden with poisonous monsters. I get to witness this last of the month for my last open at the last job I'll allow to diminish my spirit. This last is the lasting first whose lessons are deeply ingrained unconsciously, filtered purposefully, and challenged unwillingly. Saying goodbye to the treacherous June is difficult, though I'm glad to see it disappear into the impossible heap of the past. I care deeply for the spirits who've affected me, as I've seen my effect on them. Their surprised eyes, shocked exclamations, and disbelieving postures create a cavity in my heart that the new challenges will leave unfulfilled for a while yet to come.

I can no longer stay with June. As time turns tramatically through the sky, so shall the inevitable changes in place, effort, struggle, and passion. The carefully placed decisions on a divinely inspired path are leading me on to July, when the heart of battle leads to its climax and will end after August. It must, for the void must be filled and my spirit redeemed in order for my personal success to be attained. July and August might even worsen the sinkhole in the village where emotional despair rains from perfectly clear blue skies. The image of which damages the foresight in recovery because the happiness which comes with leaving June is battered by the storms left so far behind. Hindered doubts forget the causes, but the dampness steams in open daylight as the droplets persist.

Magic in the mind, danger for the heart, and reality for the moment. the next two months will either strengthen or break my resolve in so many areas; three to be exact. Two of which I'm unwilling to let bend to the necessities circumstances will certainly ensue. My armor is set, eyes aglow with fiery determination, hand clenched around my wand and sword, feet planted in the soggy aftermath of the past six years. The mountains ahead obscure my path, though I know the twists and turns unfalteringly. The war will not break me, nor shall it last my entire journey to enlightenment.

Light crests the jagged peaks as June finally begins its end! I begin to see the trials of the mountains for what they are, as I've already noticed in the desperation of my detachment from the past; however, the descent into July is not the formation of a new chapter along the way. It's merely another page in the torturous manner life finds when times are easier than anticipated. Enriching the experience of enlightenment by way of coercing the steepness into the light to grow even higher with rose bushes along the way. My duty is to enjoy the climb, relish in its steadfast difficulty, learn from the causes and reasons which logic forbade teaching in simple ways. Perhaps the armor will need to be relinquished for a gentler ascent, or the readiness of defense lost for the encroaching open arms of forgiveness. The fiery presence of my eyes may lose their glow as they scan the shortsighted horizon for symbols of my path. These things cannot be known yet; but the figure stands strong regardless.

And the path dries with each footfall, leaving darkened prints where my feet spread the moisture methodically. Already knowing that June is almost ended, even with the possibilities July and August bring, my burden feels lighter. Knowledge is increasingly attainable with decisions to leave this time, with an unknown future placed before me only the goal is known.

For now, the mountains lead my vision and address my attention. Perhaps a vale will appear soon to lessen the hardship and relieve the pit of anguish leaving loved ones behind created. This I hope, but do not plan, for. Thus, the shield of promises to myself is placed around me, and the eyes remain forewarned, and my hands hold fast to their objects of protection, while my feet move steadily on and on.

Mindless Casino

They walk, around and around,
bags at their hips
eyes glazed in expressionless
searching.
Many souls lost
in the need to spend in
futile attempts to acquire
necessities
from nonexistent symbolism
earned in miniature lifetimes.
This and that, purchased with
souls
carried in arms fattened or deprived
of true love for the
selfless acts of giving, not
taking.
Once home again with the
useless materialism taken in
temporary joy, the sorrow takes
everything.

3 Haiku From My New Job

Meandering souls
hopeless searching for that
Materialing.

One by one the same
All hoping for something new
tiring soul despairs

So strange to hear it.
One word declaring oneself
from strangers' voices

The Changed Earth (Part 13)

"Charles... What have you done?" Ethan heard himself whimper as he awoke from a drowsy sleep. The sound of his voice startled him: raspy, soft, tortured, and louder than the dreamscape whispers. His eyes opened in a flutter as he sat up abruptly. Remnants of energy flashed away in his peripheral vision in bright greens, blues, and purples.

"Elder Adair!"

Jerking around, Ethan found Alexis jumping into a short jog toward him from the other end of the sanctuary. Her angular face showed with the relief of the world lifting form her shoulders. Instantly, Ethan knew he had slept for too long.

"Elder Adair! Thank the Gods!"

Swallowing to moisten his throat, Ethan asked the most important question, "How long have I been asleep?"

Alexis fell to a sitting position right next to Ethan, her left hand holding him upright as she conjured healing and empowerment energies for Ethan. "Two and a half weeks now."

His lungs emptied heavily.

"We've been worried about you. One of the Council of Gaia has sat with you at all times, but there was nothing we could do. Gaia had constructed a protective cocoon around you. We knew it was nourishing your body but... wow! It's done so much more than that!"

"What do you mean?" Her eyes were wide with amazement, reflecting the myriad of colors illuminating their glade of safety.

"You look... healthy! And... young, I suppose!" Her hands had dropped to her sides, limp with uselessness.

He shook his head. "No. Gaia would never compromise a law of nature."

Correcting herself, "No no, I don't mean youthful and... adolescent like, but young and healthy." She drew her awe out of her face and forced the appearance of serious resolve. "You don't look elderly anymore. Simply mature, perhaps." Ethan looked down at his hands, regarding the firmness in the joints and digits that he had many years ago. "Maybe a healthy, active fifty... not a withering eighty... Yeah, that's it."

Cataloging this information about his new appearance, Ethan moved on through the necessary topics. "What has happened since I returned? What is going on with Charles? Are you alright?" he asked hurriedly, remembering her sudden disappearance during the encounter.

"I'm fine. It took a few days to dispel Alasia's attack. She's quite powerful... more than I thought," she said, trailing off in a disappointed reverie. "Otherwise, things are fine. When I was pushed out of the mindscape, I alerted all of sages and we gathered together immediately to start reinforcing the protections around the islands. Whatever happened between you and Charles had little effect here, thanks to the Council's abilities. Even your new pupil played an important part. Whatever you've taught him so far has really sunk in and he was able to bring Gaia back to us for a short while to assist."

"Nick shows promise... and he may be a much larger asset than we now know."

"He was the one who discovered the fight was over."

Ethan nodded, drawing his eyes back up to Alexis'. "That was his voice I heard then? Right before you all brought me back?"

"Yes."

Pride took a bit of the horror out of Ethan's heart. "That is good. He will learn quickly now." He tried to smile.

Alexis brought her hands back to action and placed her left hand on Ethan's back once more. "It seems the stressful circumstance unlocked his mind. If you want assistance with his training, I will gladly take part."

"Yes, yes... Please. Continue with your account of the events over the past two weeks."

As she worked with the energies Alexis said, "Charles has been very quiet. We've tried investigating what has happened to him but there seems to be even more secrecy around Antarctica completely. They're not simply hiding their civilization... the entire continent is under a defensive shield now. We believe his new strength, and abilities, are so expanded he's able to single handedly protect everything he wishes. Thus, we don't know what's going on underneath his protection.

"However, we've investigated what happened to the Earth. Most of it seemed to be untouched by whatever power he was doing during your fight... but what was affected is ravaged anew. Some of the quiet areas have new volcanoes that aren't quieting, several plains areas are ripped wide with new canyons where molten lava is flowing where rivers should be. A lot has changed and we can't seem to mend any of it ourselves... We were hoping that when you awoke you and Gaia might be able to change things further."

"How much have you told the others about what has happened to me?" Ethan asked calmly.

She shook her head. "Only that Gaia seemed to have given part of Herself to you. I figured you could explain the intercourse between you two better than I could."

Ethan smiled and grasped Alexis' right hand. He immediately felt the strength again, felt the weakness relinquish itself to a younger stage in life just before the withering took place for him so many thousands of years ago. Through the contact, he felt adoration radiate from Alexis as well. "I trust you would have said exactly what needed to be said." Thinking for a second before he began, "And if you would please inform them of what has happened to me, I think it would be best. I need no more pomp and circumstance where I walk. There is already too much of that for my liking."

"Of course."

"Also... I fear we must move quickly. We have to leave the islands as soon as possible. Charles may be subdued now, but this new energy he has will not keep him quiet for long." He looked around the sanctuary slowly, noticing the slumbering bodies interspersed throughout the quiet trees. "I will work with Gaia to find us all a new home. Please ask Antoni to reinforce the barriers so they will last long after we have departed. Tell him to have Nick assist as part of his training. We'll have to through Charles of as long as possible." He stood carefully. "We need to inform Ben of our imminent departure. He'll need to prepare the humans.

"And I must commune with Her. I'll return when I have made adequate preparations."

Alexis' face showed worry again. "How may we reach you if there is need, Elder?"

"Speak with Gaia. I will hear you."

With that, a slight nod of the head, and a quick rustling of her gown, Alexis departed to rally the necessary individuals. As she left the sanctuary, Ethan saw the eastern sky begin to brighten.

A breeze lifted through the canopy and the voice of Gaia whispered to Ethan. Dawn comes with sorrowed veils. Flight prevails in summer days where the land has ripened and the sky is clear. North... north to winter when the snow melts fast.

"North," he whispered to himself as he sidled his way to a standing position. His joints ached form laying for so long.

Sarah McLachlan has done it again.

One voice saved me through my time of woe in high school. It kept me sane, saved my emotions, and preserved my life. Since then I've always loved her music to the point of fanaticism, but I don't allow myself to become crazed at the very thought of her... although sometimes I fail miserably and am overjoyed to hear any news about Sarah McLachlan. It wasn't any different with her new CD release: Laws of Illusion. Furthermore, I wasn't disappointed by what Sarah gave to the world! Here is an example of the beauty Sarah has given us:

"Awakenings"

When we first met the well was dry
A long dark winter passed us by
With shooting stars and hopeful hearts our worlds collide
And so we rushed to fill each other in
Quick to lead our hungry hopes
A feast of our affections we were born anew

With open eyes we tried to make it work
And for a while the magic took
But cracks began to show as soon as things got hard
Like paper walls our feelings tore
We threw our backs against the door
Unwilling to bear witness to the other side

Oh, the games we play to hide the tangled dread inside
The fear that we are going nowhere fast
So we point the finger out, the anger gets so loud
It drowns out all the sorrow, at least until tomorrow... what then?

I took a good hard look at how I loved
Years I squandered falling fast
For any boy who'd have me was so insecure
I'd lie awake alone at night
Full of loathing, compromised
And wondering how the hell did I end up like this

Oh, the tears of rage I cried, when nowhere could I find
An answer that made any kind of sense to me
I point the finger out, the anger gets so loud
It drowns out all the sorrow, at least until tomorrow... what then?

Oh I wanna learn, I wanna know
Will our history crush us or can we let it go?
I'm not the girl I was but what have I become?
I'm not so willing anymore to bend
Still pleasing and conceding
but I'm not gonna lose myself again

(c)2010; Laws of Illusion

This song, in so many ways, speaks to me just like her first album with "Possession" and "Hold On" did on her album Fumbling Towards Ecstasy. Suddenly I feel a passion and connection with events in my life, and each time I hear or read the lyrics to "Awakenings," I see something new and interesting and deeper than what I saw before.

At first I felt the love concerned by the song: how quick and easy it is to fall into infatuation after so long, how tortured and dangerous love is, how beautiful and fulfilling it can be, and how it matures us. Other circumstances in my life took me on a different thought path about the loss of love rather than discovering love. The song transformed instantly to an awakening of new emotions still fueled by love. It was magical. After many times listening to it, I know feel another motif of "Awakenings" is about a love that grows for the self and the strength it takes to find one love.

Even with this all said, I'm sure it will change for me again and again. As most of Sarah McLachlan's music, it's pure poetry written by a beautiful mind whose wisdom is shared through music. I've learned so much about myself through listening to Sarah's music over the years, and I can't wait to learn even more from Laws of Illusion that I need to figure out in one way or another.

Essentially:

Thank You Sarah McLachlan for your brilliance! I love you!

Balance.
A natural existence
Sublime, sometimes, and necessary;
without which worlds would
end.
Perceived realities crashing
like noontime wavering underfoot
as swirling waters tumble visions blurred
by tears.

Emotions
chaotic persistence turmoil bound
relinquish balance
sought with frightful need.
Equilibrium
tears the soul asunder,
weighing sanity with dementia
between care filled thoughts for the
dead.

Community

I am an individual who exists in many different communities in America. Until tonight, I rarely gave this much thought beyond how I was different from what the cultural media portrayed in its stereotyping. However, tonight felt like an induction to a community that I cannot escape no matter what upbringing I had. Attending the NALEO (National Association of Latino Elected and Appointed Officials) reception and awards dinner showed me what I was a part of.

First of all, I acknowledge myself as a writer who is attending college and striving to expand my knowledge of the world and my craft. Secondly, I have a gay man who has worked in the LGBT community to strengthen our leadership, pushed the LGBT youth to go into the world with pride, and allow myself to be an example of an exemplary gay man. Thirdly, I am a witch (to read more about this visit my other blog at http://retakingthepath.blogspot.com ). Beyond this, I rarely designate my being as part of any other community.

The inspiration I felt today was beyond what I had expected out of an invitation to a dinner/reception for NALEO; in which I figured a few ceremonial activities would take place and I would be given the opportunity to hob-nob with elected Latinos and Latino advocates. Instead my eyes were opened up to a community which still needs strength to win the battles it has been fighting since the 1960's. I ate with activists who marched on Washington with La Raza and have been pushing for comprehensive immigration reform for as many years. These heroes have given their entire lives for a dream they felt so deeply within their souls that still plagues their life today. They fear for the generations to come, hoping and knowing what they have accomplished will better their children's children's children's lives so the opportunities available are no different from their white counterparts. This all makes what I've accomplished feel like a raindrop on the aftermath of a tidal wave picked up by a sublime hurricane washing over America.

I realized this community is my community, just as much as I'm a writer, or that I'm gay, or that I'm Wiccan. I am Latino, and this community is ready to ensure I acquire the fullest completion of my aspirations without hindrance from popular society. There is no way I can turn my back on that. No way can I neglect my own responsibility to a people who have striven with an inspiration I have felt before in the struggles I have faced.

But there's more to this sense of community. More to the word community in its essence; but I fear most of the Latino population neglect accepting this deeper sense. I was told a story at the NALEO dinner by a member of the great Salazar family of Colorado, whose origins stretch back before Colorado existed. It was a tale of the family patriarch. Unfortunately, his final years were plagued by Alzheimer's and his mental facilities deteriorated to a point where most of what was said seemed out of place. One day, he came out of his bedroom, having disappeared for several hours, holding his military uniform from when he served for the United States of America. His face serious, determined, awake, he said clearly to his family, "I want you to bury me in my uniform." The family, having been told to never argue with an Alzheimer's patient in a moment of supposed dementia, agreed to his coherent request. Several years later, the Salazar patriarch had a heart attack, and as his son was picking him up off the floor to go into the ambulance, he whispered two things: "I love you" and "Uniform."

His pride, even when his mind was lost to a disease which deteriorated all aspects of his living self, still revolved around two very distinct things: the love of his family and the love for his country.

This to me is community: the ability to distinguish oneself as part of a heritage once different from society by ethnic, religious, racial, and sexual determinants; now acknowledged only as a whole group of locally associated individuals abiding by local legislation. I don't want community to be a designation of difference to separate a minority from the social, popular, cultural majority. Community should be a whole, where the person can be proud of being the same even if his lineage, sexuality, skin color, or spirituality are different from his neighbor's. Where the desire to be buried in your uniform represents the trust, pride, belief and hope in a nation and its people.

Essentially... I believe I have a new community to inherit into my soul, my mind, my heart, and my aspirations; even though I have already been a member of it since birth. New goals were created tonight which coincide with what I believe has been placed before me; however... it means I'm going to be far busier than I foresaw anyway. I'm afraid to list everything I foresee myself doing now, but suffice it to say, I'm not going to let myself down and I won't let my people down. Any of them.

The Mourning Drowns

I open my eyes
My heart closes instantly
Death floods memory

Battling Emotions with Words

battling emotions with words
delicate and precise
my heart feels broken
mind turned to ice

the day comes to an end
Night overcomes
a full moon beckons
tears for the One

alone in thoughtless sight
gentle sighs of mourning
i worry through my words
that She will know their feeling

A Letter of Love

To,

And the name need not be said,
for those whose hearts are mourning
care only for the dead.
Winter's grasp has joined the mind
wherever souls are gentled
with careful motions hard to find
in terms of selflessness.
Speak love and tears flow freely
knowing purity in this
the hug is broken to the caution
of sobs coming and going.
Dare it not to think of one
when holding out the hand
for faeries long to comfort those
mourning on the land.

The words that come are tortured truth
tell tales of better ways
lost behind the soul of youth
returned to peaceful life.
This family whose world affects our thoughts
has lost their loving wife,
and we as souls reaching out
affirm our endless love.
We give you room to shout!

Here we stand for you, our love
and hope to help your heart.
Believe the deepest of your love
has given her to serenity.

In loving memory, we mourn with you.
As love has touched our ability
to feel what we can do.

Love,
[signed]

In Memoriam

Saying goodbye to her is saying goodbye to a mother whose limitless love reached beyond her family and made so many people feel welcome into her life. Her spirit gave her husband and five children lives full of beautiful memories of the hardworking, caring person that she was. Even in the darkest times of stress, doubt, or worry, she exemplified an outlook on life that always knew things would get better. This attitude she shared with everyone who knew her; and with that we have learned to honor her life by remembering the drive to give positivity to everyone who meets us.

Her life was full of stories. Wherever we saw her, she always had a story ready for the world. These tales told of her life and her children, of the fantasies written in beautiful prose, and the experiences viewed through her eyes of wisdom. Her fable is left to teach the world of the honesty of love, the experience of motherhood, the trials of existence, and the affect of passion touching the soul. With appreciation and love, we will take her memory and write our lives with the knowledge her experience has shaped our world for the better.

The Awoken Witch (Part 1)

Part 1:
The Bird

Looking up, the clock said 3:33 in an ominous tone, the colon blinking idly as the seconds slipped in and out of existence trailing the numbers till the third 3 switched over to 4. Claire suspected this moment was like any other minute that happened to read 3:34 on a beautiful afternoon at the beginning of summer. A gentle breeze blowing across the green plains outside her window, grabbing the branches of her aspens which provided a minimal amount of shade to filter the sun's brightness. The aspens' leaves flashed between their dark and soft greens, winking to say "We know something, and always will, that you don't know."

Claire swore she could hear them, but assumed it was her bored, yet content, mind wandering down a magical avenue where life was always interesting. She remained sitting in front of her window, watching the leaves wink and the tall blades of green grass sway. Already the hint of brown crept along the base of the grass: signs of the heat which would certainly overwhelm everyone who lived in such a beautiful place. Balance to one paradise.

She looked at the clock. It still read 3:34 even though she felt like it should have moved on. Her eyes wandered back out the window to her view of the aspens against a backdrop of plains and mountains covered in the bast growth of the spring rains which seemed to never end this year. Winter snows persisted on falling even into May; which was certainly odd but not unheard of. These phenomenons simply helped keep what would end up a dry land moist.

A black bird flew into view, soaring with a large wingspan. Claire didn't know much about birds, had never really cared to investigate them much, but something about the bird looked extremely strange. For one thing, its large wings didn't tip upwards at the ends, like she had seen many eagles' wings do on the Science Television. These wings, though beautifully crafted, were straight, narrow, and jet black. The bird landed underneath a large tree whose canopy stretched wide and provided far more shade than Claire's aspens.

Claire looked back at the clock. When the colon reappeared, the new number came into existence as it should have.

When she looked back out the window to see the bird, a man stood underneath the tree. His shape seemed squarely pointed toward Claire and he seemed a little stooped or old. Claire noticed the tall blades of grass all around him vibrating violently as if a series of miniature tornadoes swept all around him. The wind spread across the plains and some of it ripped its way up the hill to Claire's house.

And when the aspens outside her window began to whisper, Claire swore they said, "Claire. It is time to awaken to the powers of the Land. You will know us when we come."

With very little thought and a chest that felt crammed into a corset, Claire escaped her bedroom with the beautiful Coloradan view of green fields and a old man standing underneath a tree. Moments later, the man seemed to jump to the air and soar away, having magically transformed into a giant black bird.

And Shall the Goodbyes Begin

Hello morning, your early tears drying
on leaftops bound underfoot.
This day has come as any before
though changes happen in the wind
which carries earth and rain
towards the burning dawn.
Past gone by without a care, its
time to learn as lessons
in a life that's torturing itself.
You awaken trilling songs
and beckon the vibrant green!

Hello day, your newness clears
incessant darkness in the trees.
Shy prescriptions in solid trust
allow short steps into the
sunbathed plains where strength is
broadened. Leaving behind helps
looking ahead to a canvas of
sky and earth to paint the clouds
and lightening striking hard.
You allow birthing ideas
and fight unwanted doubt.

Hello eve, you're waiting there:
a vision among the clouds.
I cannot see you unless the past
is but no more... You know; and
pull me away.
And shall the goodbyes begin.

Somebody Save My Life

The thread passed from my hand out into the endless ocean stretched before me. Its sinewy length joined the waves in gentle rushes as the waters pulled at my heart. An open sky above reflected the azure depths swelling with anticipation of a sublime force crafted by the very nature it destroys. The thread leads me on, pulls my mind into the open waters as thought my foundation were degrading to marshland covered in its presence; yet I pull the path away slowly in attempts of inevitable failure to change how the oceans force the thread to and fro. Its sinewy length reflects the tedious emotions rising inside my heart; but the strength of my resolve holds these fears aside and my steadied hands reach further into the clear blue waters drifting by. An open mind breathes sighs of relief with every movement deeper into the lost seas, searching endlessly for a spark to generate the necessary strength to pull myself along with the thread leading me on.

And the ground has left me, the sky moves ever on ahead, and the clouds descend like waterfalls crashing upon the waves. I am lost to the sea as the sea has been to me. Beyond comprehension reality beckons footfalls into the bottomless ocean while my hands hold tight to the slithering vine eons ahead in its lengths. And the ground finds me, hard and broken with the dryness of circumstance. I am lost in a desert of mourning, the blood red sun drowning my presence of mind to swim and bathe in the clarity of the ocean. Beyond comprehension remains knowledge of this challenge spread vastly before me: a world hurt by oppressive winds, scorching fires, and dried earth where no depth of oceans dare challenge the authority of this supposed environment.

Sublimity afflicting unreasonable trials upon the consciousness of imaginations.

I stumble ahead. Thread in hand. Waiting for chances to redeem the decisions of others forced upon myself. Searching for the oceans once more to be lost in.

The Will

The days trudge mirthlessly on and on
to months so tortured and disturbed,
Swaying away into the west
where reddened clouds begin to burn.

Failed attempts to bury strength
resound in echos from the hill
upon which I've seen the arms
marching to a villainous shrill.

I've dreamt in ocean's careful tides;
east to west and seen the Fates
who brought me homeward through an eye
piercing daggers of my will.

Vengeful wrath blowing hard
with truth scornful in my hand,
their actions bared to grating sand...
and I am alone directing the wind.

She Thought So Quickly

Quickly judgments pass
No words speak truth within us
Rules bend, break, and cry

Am I Really?

It seemed today was going to be as ordinarily tedious as any other day. For the most part, it didn't disappoint, but something tragic, if I may say so, occurred that gave me quite a shock. The event revolved around a phrase with subtle, intricate meanings, none of which are positive when dealing with an individual.

"Anna thought you were stuck-up when she first met you."

Stuck-up...

Sure, the story-teller meant well by informing me. Eventually she went on to explain that after the short while that Anna and I worked together Anna realized I wasn't "stuck-up" and really began to enjoy my company.

Well I'm sorry! Eventually coming to terms with who I am and enjoying my company after a short while isn't good enough. First impressions mean so much to anyone's psyche and to be stuck with the first impression of being "stuck-up" isn't one I ever wanted! Sure, I can have a bit of an ego and try to feel smart around people but I've never thought of myself as "stuck-up." I try to be nice, helpful, considerate, genuine and happy around anyone I meet, which usually lands me new acquaintances and friends.

I guess I have to go back a bit further to understand the full effect of this petty statement upon my emotional well being (as fragile as it is anyway). This is the third time I've been reported to be "stuck-up" while working where I do. Each time by someone who judged quickly and then got to know me. The first was with a borrowed employee who worked with me for a day. The second was with an co-worker who worked with me for several months before admitting she first thought I was (and I quote) "stuck-up." And now this one; yet another borrowed employee who judged quickly (much like her boss) and allowed that impression to change the way she worked/dealt with me until she realized I'm not stuck-up!!!

Regardless... I need to figure out what I'm doing that gives this impression. And whether or not it actually works in my favor in the long run, I suppose. I don't like being known as "that stuck-up guy behind the counter...." Understandably, this whole blog is a little egocentric and I'm more than willing to admit it; but the whole point of a blog is to allow people to understand me, get to know me better, and possibly crave more! I wonder, does this blog make me "stuck-up"?

What does it even mean? I've always thought of "stuck-up" as arrogance, self-righteousness, thinking one is better than the rest of humanity, egotistical... I don't think I'm arrogant. Definitely don't feel self-righteous in any way. I'll give up anything (save a few things) that would make anyone else happy. Furthermore, I feel close to the bottom of the chain of things in the grand scheme of humanity. So why does this happen?

A question without an answer: a common theme in my life right now...

Tortured Thoughts

Delicate ambition searing a gentle way
forgetting balanced sight along with love.
Hearts rushing to accept battered emotions
which play hopscotch in the corridors of
thought.
Carefully betraying concise disciplined
reason for unabated haste in choices
beside the need for a comfortable environment.
Alas, harkening purity for the stasis
in my time there cannot be cascades of
snow berating shortsighted heart filled
emotions, whom certainly carry weight
regarding decisions affecting the course of
living.

To be living in a mass of thoughts without
gentle breezes of conflict strengthening
considerate thoughts of the emotional
well being thereof is simplified only by
juxtaposed words to the trustworthy.
Herein lies the decisions which
harm
even when honesty exists through and through.
On and on balancing acts continue
for the principle of selfishness
in order to be truly, unabashedly
happy.
Deliver such considerations in
modes of sincerity and the Air
breathes sighs of jubilation.

Correspondence with the Self (3)

To me, or whom it may concern;

Fantastic!

Certainly you've imagined a world for yourself free of the stresses this climate has endured; and are ready to free the shackles binding your feet to the inevitable. Walk on confidently and learn the lessons placed on meandering ways along the hills and without the covered sky. There could never be a better choice than the one believed in, the one deep within your heart that cries out with instinct. Congratulate yourself for the knowledge that all roads change and all changes come with adventures that may or may not be better than the ones you have experienced thus far. Welcome yourself to the blue skies with the mountains so far gone. After all, it isn't about this path that life exists for you!

Keep your eyes free of the wayside and look ahead. Forward evermore should your mind be! That's where imagination and illusions clash and bring about a reality even more fantastic than this dirty, muddy, filthy, treacherous road upon which you walk. I am here with you, for you, and about you! As every friend and loved one will certainly stand with you to cheer on. Worry not for the circumstances that seem petty and insignificant! You know they will not last. And ready yourself for the changing earth that imbues humanity's heart with excitement.

It's there for you.

Sincerely,

~Alexi

Correspondence with the Self (2)

Dearest Alexi;

The words I've written are indeed intriguing and accurate, and further more strikes at anguish voiced only to those I trust. But none so far understand to the fullest what I feel now, accept me. My dilemma more accurately, hindsight in tow:

1) This path is dirty, soiled with deceit and repercussions undeserved; where the ones at fault walk free and full of righteousness. Moral and ethical flares fly frequently, warning me to watch every footfall and beware of every motion around me: few are trustworthy.

2) This fork I've described is familiar, too much so. There is endless trust and support for the life I want to live. But my heart beats fervently with regret, anger, doubt... just thinking about walking this path through the woods. Memories are painful.

3) Another option exists that requires patience, I know. Another path, another fork, another choice still looms in the distance at some unforeseen hill just before danger and disaster. Either way, this new opportunity, I know, will be available on either path I choose from this immediate decision that I must make. Its potential outweighs both here now.

What will I do? What I have always done and choose what seems most appropriate and easiest and believe in the sight I know. Storm clouds linger in the west, sunny mornings remain in the east, and where my feet continue on is directionless at the moment. I know what I have said, I know what I need. I know what is meant by the choices I make. Moving one foot forward, I've made my choice.

Mine Evermore.

Correspondence with the Self (1)

Dear Me, or whom it may concern;

There lies a fork in the road. Drastic, isn't it? Something you've desired on this road that goes ever on and on. Accepting where your feet have tread gives you perspective that mountainous trails forbade; and now the path ahead appears simplistic and peaceful. Yes, those are hills that undoubtedly exist on any chosen way. You've dealt with worse, as seen by the adventures past, and now those lessons beneficially alter your time with this path and may permit a certain comfort with vital experiences you crave.

But this new path arrives in a perfect time, a perfect condition, and with perfect wind. What will you do? This new way connects with the one you left years ago for this enlightened life. You know its ways, its faults, the tricks of light and whispers in the wind. Beyond a thick of trees, dense and dark as the night sky, the new fork runs onward.

You're standing there, torn as you should be. To immerse yourself backwards into a realm that has hurt on so many levels or trudge ahead until yet another opportunity arrives is what spins your emotions blindly. What will you do?

Sincerely,

~Alexi

Finding Motivation

A desperate cry to myself
in the echoing halls of silence
beckons me to live!
Like aliens forging ahead
to a future of unkowns where
fear controls their motions.
Like lonely givers who're
pushed to bring life
at costs unfathomable.
Like innocence, abandoned,
hoping for a break from
the tortured hardship of life.

A desperate cry to myself
yearns to open my eyes
to draw my hands in
motions to change. The darkest
trials of others whose
strength hardens their faces
to forget smiles
and laughter in their eyes.
I am not that strong;
needing to strive in
turmoil and find answers
without solid foundations.

This land of dreams tells
them to go, gives them hope
in fantasy and burns reality.
This land of opportunity
donates hardship dolefully
yet decides it's better than...
My eyes open to emptiness
and my heart pours to fill.

A desperate cry to myself
echoes of opened words
suddenly full of life.
Motivation bounding like
waves of rain crashing on
mountain tops and bringing
the floral essence of vanity to
fingertips drawing symbols
longing to touch the world.
I push myself to birth
my life the way I want
knowing hardship is not
before me like others who
succeed in dreams they hold.

My Fantasy

I've always had this dream, and it absolutely kills me to admit it; but something about the time and the weather have driven me to putting this into words. perhaps it's so I'll explore the probability of such occurrences happening, or simply to grapple with an emotion sparked by a simpleton's remark under a white tent at a book sale. maybe by putting this out into the open I'll somehow admit the unlikeliness of this even ever happening; or the presence of this writing will put into motion the necessary steps to fulfilling this wild fantasy that's been with me since before I can remember. The image changes with age and location but the actual plot is always the same. I await its presence in my life, even though it may never come to fruition.

Today: a gloomy, dreary day wrought with rain and soggy earth. It's the beginning of the summer in beautiful Colorado and it feels more like an early Northwestern spring than anything else. Being summer has great significance to me: event after event to fill my life in between semesters. At least it all keeps me off my computer and away from the couch. Today is the final day of the Denver Public Library Book Sale: a mecca of cheap books piled upon tables. Treasures so glorious I can barely accept the pure joy I feel at the sight of attainable wealth.

With the rain, a surprising number of bargain book hunters have arrived on this odd Sunday morning. Not even thirty adults are within the protective tents filled with books. Normally more than a hundred individuals are seen with boxes and bags and handfuls of books, nearly endlessly searching for that piece of gold they might miss which may be jammed between nonsense. My journey through the white haven for literature enthusiasts has been on for about an hour when I hear suddenly:

"I read one of her books and it was phenomenal, and everyone I know said she was a horrible writer and I just didn't understand how they could think that, so I read another one of her books and suddenly understood why. She really had a miracle in that one book and should have stopped there!"

Something in my head clicked and I became very self-conscious and the dream popped into my head. My very first worry was: "Am I going to end up like that? One great book and the rest suitable for bonfires?" My joy was shot and I needed to escape the gloomy, cramped, filthy tent, get away from the rain, leave civilization and think!

Again the fantasy sparked in my mind, and it seems so simple to me. I am anywhere: at work, in a park, at home, it doesn't really matter where I am. Randomly, a very attractive person approaches me. Most of the time this individual is a man and his features change with each re-envisioning; and sometimes it's a woman with very ethereal qualities. Regardless, he's a stranger to me, but something about his presence is intriguing. Something beyond his beauty or handsomeness which calls to my soul or heart.

Then he speaks as we're looking eye to eye: "Hello Josh."

I'm always amazed that this person knows who I am, that someone with which I know to have never had a previous encounter would know who I am. "How do you know my name?"

And he says, very seriously: "You're a very important person."

What happens next always changes. When I was younger and lived in a dream world from which I stole 90% of my material for my work, this statement of importance meant I had a quality that no other living person had. For a while it meant I had magical powers that could save the world, or that somehow my body had a chemical in it that could manufacture cures for every ailment known to humanity. As I matured and began to understand the physical needs, this statement turned into a call for love. It didn't hurt that the person I envisioned was attractive either, because we would always fall in love and head into paradise... This theme would resurface every time I had relationship issues. Regardless of the message behind how I was an "important person," the feeling that someone out there knew who I was, knew me for what I could be, who I could be, what I could do, was thrilling and inviting and magnificent.

Now, with this woman's statement about an author she might not have understood, an author who might have written on a different reading level than her or her friends could comprehend, created the next evolution of this fantasy. This time, when the person before me says "You're a very important person" it has the feeling of social responsibility and possibility. That my words have or are affecting the outcome of change in civilization. That my words are educating people on a different level than school or work or simple experience. That the love behind the statement and the eye contact and the attractiveness is more for my ability to write beautifully, to make illusions in magical and mystical ways, and to touch another's soul without ever meeting them...

This is what I want of my work... This is what I want of my life. Authors have moved me to tears, have inspired me to be something more than I am, have taken me away from my life and put me in a place so real and wonderful that I didn't want to return to this world. I want to affect people like that. I want to give hope and beauty and love and imagination to generations to come. This is why I write. This is why I want to teach. This is why I want to lead humanity to the stars (both actually and metaphorically).

And maybe by doing these things some stranger will really step up to me and say my name and tell me how very important I am.

Questions for the Mind

Answers are lost on the wayside along the path I blindly follow, even if the choices I make alter the progression in stride. no questions arise, begging a realization of nonsense in the desire for knowledge for which there is no inquiry.

Perhaps the questions will come, and the answers will arrive with vigor, once the direction is determined and seen. Only the destination matters, truly, when it comes to my concerns; however wading or struggling suffices the burdens of growth in an environment supposedly geared for personal pursuits in glory. If the answers to life immediately presented are lost, then so must I be. Am I the very question, and by acknowledging this subtle observance will the world become enriched? What kind of question is served by me, other than ones pertaining to my direction? Regardless of the direction, me as the inquiry serves no better purpose, perhaps, than motionlessness in life. I know who I am, where my desires dream, how motivation arises from where my imagination roams, and what I came to do.

What else is there?

Is that the question? A very thought which belongs somewhere else than in my mind? I care not for restless thoughts which only make the enjoyment of life suspect to whimsical achievements deterred from the main objective. What purpose is that served? Experience, perhaps; but I feel the necessary experiences which will influence in ways I need already await my arrival down the future avenue of my path I walk. Is that a naive thought, wrought with desires and dreams for an easy life?

Am I naive?

Maybe this is the question that needs answers in order for progression... The very thought makes me ill. I very much wish to not be naive, innocent, young, wet behind the ears... however you put it. I feel I know a lot about this life, this planet, this universe; but then I look at the immediate reality and am lost searching. My naivety seems part of an unrealistic expectation to succeed in an immediate reality that holds no permanence over my soul.

Have I stepped off the proper path somehow? Stepped away from a predetermined existence that I believed was the proper course and somehow lost myself in a different world?

Well then... That is a question loaded with many answers that I dare not know. And if that's the case, is knowing them truly going to help me jump back to the path I want to be on. Will that make me happier than I am now, knowing the circumstances of this immediacy truly isn't meant to be? Whether or not I am naive in this life, the life I'm leading now with my current job and the track of schooling I'm on and the relationship I'm in, I live to be happy and to know and to succeed. I feel I am failing, ultimately, and that spurns these questions into existence for which I search answers I worry I will not attain. Wondering aimlessly if there is something else to life that I do not have doesn't serve me any better than creating a pit of despair for which I will struggle to climb out of. If the path set forth for me is pulled asunder from my feet and replaced by something less intriguing, fulfilling, and real... then there is a problem which I must solve.

Understanding that the acquisition of knowledge to these questions posed is little more than helpful instigates a determination to create the proper existence for myself. Knowing I create my own happiness causes me grief, because I know I am not happy where I am in many things in my life. Even so, I know this will help me further my ambitions.

Ultimately... perhaps I an naive where I am, but it's not where I want to be. There is always something else but I'll never know if it's the right something unless I get there and experiment to find out. This might be a waste of time, but I'll have learned something nonetheless. And if my path is to experience everything I can, the lows and highs of emotions or the fascinating or boring, then I will have to take it in stride. I'll never know exactly where I'm going along the path, what sights I'll see... But I already know where I'll end up because that's what I've created for myself out of what was given to me from the powers that be. Perhaps my example will lead others on. Perhaps they will learn from me what I have failed to learn for myself.

And here I am... oddly contented by a rambling of my thoughts which serves no more purpose than to set straight the ideas I've already had in the past which somehow became muddled with abstract torture created by an allowance from myself. And now I move on.

The Man Before Me.

I can't. My sorrow, my woe and want to not go is dimmed by the man before me. His surely proud face broken down to this place destroys my pride and my hope. Wandering eyes try to disguise the pain seething below. Arms crossed to hold in a dreadful sin: to be seen in the eye as weak. Fidgeting round alone by his girl, he tries desperately to furl what he's unable to hide while they try, oh they try, to fly where they might to grieve. My sorrow and woe is so far gone, I know, for the lack of aid I may give.

"I, Robot" by Isaac Asimov: AMAZING!

It has taken me a while to grip the wondrous novel I, Robot by Isaac Asimov. Usually I know how I feel as soon as I finish a novel, whether I'll read it again, and how prominent it will be on my bookshelf. This wasn't entirely simple with I, Robot. I knew by the third chapter this book would be one of my favorites. Asimov completely blew my mind on a level that's only happened a handful of times. I, Robot put me in a trance when I read it and wouldn't let go. That's why I couldn't easily judge the book; I was so enthralled I couldn't look at it objectively. I feel I have a better grasp of the situation now, though.

One of the main features of this novel is the structure. The story which links the chapters together is based on a reporter interviewing the revered robopsychologist, Dr. Susan Calvin, who witnessed the birth of the contemporary robots. Each chapter, until the final three or four, is a short story revealing the birth of the robotic sentience which mirrors, in many ways, the evolution of society in a very symbolic manner. My favorite of these chapters was the one entitled "Liar" which follows the story of a mind reading robot who finds conflict with the "Three Laws of Robotics." I started reading this chapter on the airplane on the way home and disappeared from the world. That action in itself hasn't happened in such a long time.

The overall theme or message of the novel blew my mind, and by telling you the message I spoil the ending, so I will refrain and hope you read it. Once I finished reading I, Robot, I couldn't move. Thinking was the only option; considering humanity's future along this path inspired, threatened, and convinced me of Asimov's predictions. Even without the existence of robots, Asimov makes intelligent predictions, some of which are obviously coming true as we live. European Union anyone?

My favorite passage starts in chapter 7, on page 179 and follows:

When Susan Calvin entered the fantastically guarded vault that held The Brain, one of the current shift of technicians had just asked it: "If one and a half chickens lay one and a half eggs in one and a half days, how many eggs will nine chickens lay in nine days?"

The Brain had just answered, "Fifty-four."

And the technician had just said to another, "See, you dope!"

Dr. Calvin coughed and there was a sudden impossible flurry of directionless energy. The psychologist motioned briefly, and she was alone with The Brain.

I simply LOVE the description of the "directionless energy." I couldn't help but laugh.

All in all, this is truly, ultimately, and unavoidably a must read. Socially, I, Robot makes important statements. Artistically, it is a bold, innovative, beautiful, and well written piece of literature! Personally, it's one of my all time favorite books. I look forward to reading more of Isaac Asimov, and I hope you make the time to read this quick book: I, Robot!

This World is Not

Don't tell me where
in check
emotions will be.
Being without dissolves
dry life
into currents presently tortured.
Disputed temptation
loyalty bound
emulates desires ingrained with
permanence deep within.
Tell me to hide
push away
cheat
become; I tell you
this world is not.

An Early Morning at Work

Cloudy morn listless.
Servitude drowning sunlight.
Caffeine flows onward.

The Changed Earth (Part 12)

"Oh come now, Diodoros. This is a moment for celebration. Don't look at me with such disgust and anger."

Ethan couldn't move. The man before him was a vision from the past lost ages ago. Everything about him was the same, but with a slight difference: bright blue eyes, curly blond hair, fair skin stretched over a round face with strong cheekbones; but there was a hint of flame coursing through every feature, circling every strand of hair, glowing in every pore of his face. Akakios had become the physical manifestation of Helios. Slowly, it all sank in as Akakios started walking in a wide arc around his brother.

"What have you done?" Ethan asked with trepidation.

The laugh was filled with mirth. "But asked for a gift and was granted endlessness!" His joy brightened the area, revealing more of the darkness in the clouds behind him. The wind naturally picked up and created a vicious torrent of blackened clouds just beyond their protected space. "Much the same way as you, Diodoros."

Ethan snapped back into himself. "I left that name behind me long ago."

The smile that faced Ethan was full of malicious intent. "Forgive me, Elder Ethan Adair."

"And I never asked for this...gift." Ethan took a step in the other direction, circling around to a better protected stance.

Without a noticeable change in posture, relaxed in his steps, Akakios' smile broadened and filled his eyes with anticipation. "There we go! Now we're ready. Ha ha ha!!!" The air started warming.

Another step showed the ground to be unstable, sinking into the marsh of a land covered by miles of snow suddenly brought to a melting point. Ethan focused half his thoughts to solidifying the ground so they could walk on it, and thought twice about it. Modifying his spell, he made it so the area he walked on would be solid while Akakios' would still be marshy. A mere second had passed as the echo of Akakios' laugh died away. Ethan spoke calmly, "We don't have to fight, brother. Societies have coexisted peacefully, and in harmony at times. Our two societies will need each other in the end, and I know you understand this."

"Your sentiments are startlingly simple minded. It's a shame I don't share them," he said sarcastically. "But I don't care to share a world with a betrayer of humanity. You know what I ask, and as long as you forbid my easy access to Antoni I will forever be at war with you."

There was no warning: Akakios continued smiling through his aura of internal light, stepping lightly through the muddles snow, and a whip of flame cracked around Ethan's body. The heat of the attack set of his protective instincts and a thin layer of stone materialized for a second to ward off the fire. He tried to show no surprise.

"Your eyes betray you," Akakios said with glee. "Not prepared for an equal on the battlefield?"

Ethan continued mirroring his brother's motions as he replied, "I have always seen you as an equal. We have simply taken matters in different stride, and at times this has led to different strengths."

"You can be frank with me." His smile had disappeared along with the touch of happiness in his eyes. Steam billowed where his feet touched the dirty water.

"Have I any reason to lie to you? What benefit would it suit me now?" A burst of flame ignited around Ethan's head. The instant it appeared, a shield formed to protect him. "Akakios... What do you expect of me?"

The difference in his smile was vibrant. The one before was actually happy, enthusiastic about what lay ahead. This new smile was sharp, dangerous, and malicious. "I want you and your pathetic gathering of impudent scum to be punished for its failures and crimes against humanity. I want justice for the circumstances we must struggle through, and I will create the perfect justice for everyone involved!"

Ethan's heart sank, even through his excitement at the impending confrontation. "Are you really so shortsighted?" Akakios' eyes narrowed. "Is there nothing but destruction and the need for power on your mind? Do you so distressingly adhere to the one sided thought process you have unerringly taken to the events that have placed us here?"

"Enough!"

"No. This isn't enough! You have forgotten everything our father has taught us. You have neglected your own mind for the chance to be something out of your reach! Gaia will not stand for your actions, she will not help you beyond today because you have forsaken Her trust in the path to redemption."

"I don't need Her!" He stopped walking and stood squarely toward Ethan, one hand twisted in a claw holding flame while the other pointed two fingers at the ground; from which a small swirling tornado danced. "This land has always ever needed Helios to survive. Without His giving essence, nature would never have flourished and change would be left on the wayside. Science would have been stagnant and our world would be left in a primordial soup. Gaia couldn't push forward such enhancements to cellular evolution. It is He who holds my devotion!"

Ethan stowed away his emotions and hardened himself to fight his last remaining relative. "You are an abomination to our society, and I hereby strip your title as Elder to all who have followed you." The words came from his mouth, but they were not his own. His very voice had changed to a melody of harmonic intonation. Gaia had spoken.

Akakios' eyes shot open at the sound. "She," he sputtered in rage. "How can She speak from you!"

"She is with me, always."

Flame shot our of Akakios' outstretched hand in bursts meant to overtake Ethan. He was ready, as Gaia's presence stood with him. Walls of earth and stone erected themselves before Ethan as he evaded the onslaught. The wind shifted, caught in updrafts of heat generated from Akakios' attack. Billows of smoke broke through the protective barrier in random places. Lightening struck somewhere to Ethan's left and the resounding boom shattered his hearing.

Then the deepened sound of a flickering roar filtered through the clouds. The air heated instantly and all the remaining snow melted instantly and began evaporating, pushing all the black smoke up into the higher atmosphere. Ethan pushed one of the blocks of earth down with his mind and looked with a solid mind and heart at a growing tornado of pure fire.

Red, orange, and yellow flames tangled together in a tight vortex, pushing and heaving upward at the coaxing of Akakios' movements. His eyes were intent and flaming with aggression. His body seemed engulfed in the same fire as the sun, spots of darkness moving slowly over his body. The heat intensified and a familiar whisper entered Ethan's mind.

You must stop this, now. Use the elements at your will! He has only one. Use his against him!

An idea struck so hard Ethan barely knew what to do. Testing the idea was slower than he would have liked. He felt the fire upon his body, burning the air until it felt like the dry heat of the Sahara. However, Ethan also felt it on another level he didn't realize until prompted by Gaia. The rumbling of the earth below him warmed in his vision: the internal fire of the Earth's core vibrant as the vortex before which he stood.

And he felt its control, felt its chaos, felt its hunger; and he shifted it. There was a struggle in the ownership of the flame, but slowly its essence died away. The tornado released into the air and was replaced by cold air rushing in to take its place.

Akakios wasn't finished. He stepped forward, lit with frustration, hands drawn to each side with an arc of flame moving between them. "You won't manage to stop me so close!" And he threw his first punch.

It landed on Ethan's chest and seared all the way through to his chest. Conjuring water over his body, he cooled the burn and readied parry after parry of the continual thrusts from Akakios. As each fist landed near Ethan's body, the water turned to ice and melted again. Ethan remained on the defense as Akakios pushed him every which way, trying with desperation more than strategy to land hit after hit.

As he began to feel a rhythm to Akakios' swings, Ethan moved his thoughts to conjuring a slab of rock. With little effort, it hurtled at Akakios and caught him square on the shoulder sending him flying to the ground with a grunt. His youthful face contorted in a mixture of pain and blind hatred.

The ground shook. Fissures broke through the earth and ice and an orange glow spread out across the clouds.

"What are you doing?" Ethan called out. "Are you trying to destroy the Earth?"

Akakios didn't respond as he got to his feet. Lava crested in the fissures.

"Akakios. Charles! You must stop." Ethan tried pulling the ground closed again but the pressure was too great.

"I will have your end and Antoni and the others will be defenseless!" he shouted.

"You'll destroy any hope you have of rebuilding this planet! You must stop!" Ethan knew he wasn't listening. Fire licked the air and started burning around the fissures as lava began spreading.

Without thinking, Ethan conjured rain to douse the fire, brought earth and placed it on top of the fissures to slow the seeping; but everything he did was hopeless as the ground cracked further down and all around them. Turning his attention to his brother, he drew up earth and rock around Akakios to encase his body, strengthened the soil with water and ice and made vines grow all throughout the mixture. He squeezed the soil to break his concentration--

and the cocoon exploded in a burst of light. His eyes hadn't changed and his mind was still set on his objective.

Alasia appeared right behind Akakios, her hard set face and drawn features terrified. Ethan prepared for an attack and brought defenses around him, but she looked away and stepped toward her leader and whispered in his ear. Her lips were taught and angry as she spoke to him. And whatever she said broke Akakios' concentration as he turned to look at her, the anger still residing in his eyes.

She said no more and waited. Her face didn't change, her eyes intent with a subdued fury, her body rigid and ready to pounce.

The words that came from Akakios' mouth were tortured, "You lie..."

Alasia didn't move. He turned to face Ethan. "This is your fault!" he raged, taking a step toward his foe.

A sturdy hand restrained him and where it would have burned water vapor flew into the air. "Charles! You can't win without losing everything we have left!"

Ethan waited in silence, watching a careful display of power amongst his enemy, still prepared to defend himself further. He continued trying to peace together the earth that was ravaged by Akakios' rage.

Slowly, Charles calmed. The wind shifted slightly and the air started to clear away the mist and clouds that clung to the area. "This isn't over, Ethan."

In half a second, both Alasia and Charles were gone, leaving Ethan to struggle with his thoughts and adrenaline. His breathing returned to normal after a few minutes, feeling the cold press against his cheeks and wound as his body started shaking . Tears came unabated.

Elder Adair. We can get you home, just stay where you are.

Suddenly, the familiar pull against his stomach brought Ethan back to the sanctuary into the arms of Alexis. He couldn't see the others standing around him, waiting their turn to help in whatever way they could. Ethan simply cried and allowed himself to fall into a fitful darkness that lasted through the entire day.

Fantasy vs. Reality

When does fantasy cease to what we call reality? And the even more poignant question would be: is reality any different than fantasy? My reality, at present, is an airport check-in waiting area sitting in a plastic chair made to resemble leather attempting comfort; while I watch strangers converse amicably for their overpriced tickets which don't include a checked bag. The walls are all a muted white. Pillars are covered in aluminum. Airline logos are mounted across from me: Spirit, Frontier, Airtram... This place is not real.

And it's not real because people invest nothing of their soul's emotions into this transitional terminal. Paint falls disregarded from the posts which usher travelers to their immediate destination, even before they ascend to the sky. Their eyes notice a disingenuous smile lying on the attendant's visage. Before a green, silver and blue, backdrop she'll counter your thoughts with niceties for efficient procedures. No one notices the lack of judgment the attendant offers with her eyes who have certainly seen enough of this terminal and its ten minute inhabitants to know something deeper of the world. Light pours in from the wall of glass behind me, beyond which remains a thoroughfare for traffic detaching the travelers with their baggage.

This is when most believe their fantasy has ended; where they believe their reality awaits them just beyond sliding glass doors. No amount of hugs, kisses, and good-byes prevents this general stigma for which individuals degrade themselves emotionally. Still, the soul invests little to nothing here.

My fantasy is here. Now. In this seat watching people saunter by with children asleep upon their mother's shoulder while the father's carry Woody, Tigger, Mickey, and his ears. This terminal which builds a space with fake orchids, caged trees, and stunted bushes. Where the linoleum floor is scuffed by leather, rubber, plastic, and the like. In an over protected environment where my depression affects no-one, not even the two with whom I travel.

Reality remains in the last nine days of my vacation, oddly... Counter-intuitively. Still I don't believe that was my reality, but consciously I know it to be true. Four days with my guiding light and five in Disneyland together presented an universe more real and connected than my job, my home, and my daily necessities. My imagination was placed aside as I stepped into my dreams; and it was real. Wishes from my heart were created, and new aspirations embedded themselves along with my childhood ambitions. New inspirations blossomed and bled into a colorful world painted by my pen, my mind, and my hand. I was genuinely happy, enthusiastically encouraged by myself to live, and joyfully realizing the steps I need to achieve to be that happy again.

This fantasy at present pulls me through a black vortex bombarded with multi-directional currents, eddies and gravitational fluxes which depress my emotions. I'm ready to move forward into this chapter, but I despise the conflicts boiling before me. Excitement fills my chest just thinking about the new inspirations, however I regret the turmoil I left behind and to which I return. Perhaps this new-found motivation to achieve my fantastic dreams in reality will give the nightmare to inspiration rather than emptiness. In which case the fantasy to which I go will mirror, in ways, the reality from which I leave unwillingly.

My fantasy will not bend to what is known collectively as 'reality.' My soul will embed itself in a realm so magical that I will not be able to determine one from the other, and the ink that will flow will certainly encompass the beautiful world I know. I will reveal to these blind travelers what is missed in theirs stay. I will not be terminal in my life, even when my own emotions discourage. The truth of reality is the bird fluttering inside the concourse, searching for the crumbs of fresh baked cookies. The truth of fantasy is the child asleep with his Mickey ears as a frantic mother searches for her gate, her eyes doubtful they'll arrive promptly for boarding. The truth of both is the view from the window: rays of dieing light piercing white and gray clouds in a symphony of rainbows permeating in an air tight cabin miles above our home. Does it end with a footfall?

The Changed Earth (Part 11)

Ethan felt different.

Well, that's how he had to describe it. The feelings he felt were all normal enough, but underneath everything else was a different sense. He could feel everything around him, he knew everything around him, and he could feel his presence changing what he observed through new senses that were unlocked by Gaia merely an hour before. The words Ethan used to describe this new sensation to Alexis were inadequate, they both knew, and it scared Ethan. He knew he had always been alive, had always felt alive, well, and strong, but the gift of this new power made Ethan feel he had never lived before.

The green of leaves shown with the rainbow of light which filtered through the cells. The ground vibrated as is slowly moved along its path on an axis through emptiness. Wind blowing across flowers and through trees tickled Ethan's body. Subtleties which escaped Ethan's perception were ignited with fury as he tested this new awareness: a butterfly resting on a branch caused the tree to react to the delicate change in its environment and sent more nutrients to that branch to grow ever so slightly faster. Ocean waves washing over the shore, slowly eating away at the sand, stirs the air and releases gentle moisture into the air for plants to grab at as they need. The symphony of Gaia's touch was at Ethan's hand, and the words he spoke couldn't relay what Alexis needed to understand. He felt different.

"You have been given the gift of godhood, Elder Adair... Gaia has made you equal to Herself," Alexis said in their hour long discussion.

Ethan pushed aside the thought, "It's not godhood. I believe she is giving me a weapon... giving me Herself. In a sense, allowing me to use Her abilities to protect the Earth and everything that remains on it. I fully intend to not use these powers unless I have to --"

"--And Elder Sadhin is forcing you into it. His recklessness may very well put an end to what we have all done."

"I must stop him," he whispered.

In that moment, Alexis understood his doubts. "How do you think you'll stop him?" Ethan's eyes turned to the ground and became very distant. She wondered where his thoughts traveled: into the earth where answers might be, into the wind that spoke through the trees, into his heart where his struggle tore apart his resolve. "Whatever you need, I will be with you, as any of the other sages will stand by you. We cannot allow Elder Sadhin to reverse the little steps we have taken."

"This will mean death."

Silence.

The sound of something hitting dry earth trickled through the air. It came closer to Alexis and Ethan as their conversation turned to the verbal recognition Ethan wished would never come; and eventually rain fell upon them. In amazement, Alexis turned her head to the sky and closed her eyes.

"Rain!" She returned her sight to Ethan. "Rain! It hasn't rained since the war!"

He wouldn't raise his head.

"You did this, Elder. You brought us rain!" In the distance, proclamations of excitement lifted through the air. "Elder Adair, listen to the joy you just brought all of us. Listen to the hope you've filled our hearts with." Alexis brought her pose up onto her knees and leaned closer to Ethan, stretching out a comforting hand and placing it softly on his wet shoulder. The feel of his old bones caught her by surprise, but she kept her hand where it was. "We all know the risks of dealing with Charles and his gathering of sages. We all know the costs of success in these situations. None of us will back away, you must know this."

"Charles is my brother. He is the only one left in my family."

"You won't bring him around. He's made that very clear. You won't give him what he wants. You have made that very clear. When it comes time to deal with him accordingly, we will force him into justice." Alexis waited for Ethan's gaze to connect with hers. Slowly the rain diminished and the smell of rejuvenated plants permeated the shoreline. "The first thing we must worry about is the dawn. Charles must be stopped."

Ethan looked directly into her eyes. "Yes."

"What do we need to do?" Alexis forced all her authority into her voice.

"We have to hurry. Gaia worries if Charles is able to connect with the sun, he will be as imbued with such power as I have; which is why She gave me Her abilities, I fear." He thought for a second and continued, "Which means Charles will need a clear line of sight to Helios... And there in-lies our hope."

Very quickly they had their plan and worked to take action even before Charles Sadhin was on his quest. Morning approached quickly, as the Southern Hemisphere was in its Summer phase the nights were quite short and the dawn flared quickly. Ethan, with little thought or effort, was able to move the black and billowing clouds out of the way to watch the sunrise. Most of the inhabitants of the Cocos Islands awoke once the word had spread that the horizon was visible and rain had fallen.

Then the twilight began. As the eastern purple gave way to a gray-blue sky, red tendrils reflected off the black clouds and a deeply majestic sight graced those who beheld it. There were two who neglected the eastern beauty.

Their minds were distant in a mindscape, traveling south to greet a foe whose intentions besmirched the ideals of all who claim faith to Gaia. Alexis had already decided, in recent moments, to strip him of his Elder status. Ethan felt similarly. In the blackness of their travel, they felt each other's worries. The simple matter of covering the ascent of Helios from Charles Sadhin's view seemed far too manageable.

They planned for trouble and anticipated the struggle to be far more than what they could handle. Neither foresaw Helios interceding in an Earthly matter, but His consciousness was rarely experienced by humans. Ethan feared Charles had accomplished this feat on some level.

Alexis brought the picture of Antarctica and the civilization Charles had built into the mindscape. Its buildings were numerous and stretched into a small suburb. To Ethan's amazement, there was no mansion visible, no castle to center power in, no added protection over one singular house. He sent this thought to Alexis and her reply came instantly, He is intelligent. He has learned from our history well.

Searching the town revealed an absence of Charles' power.

Stealthily, Ethan sent a strand of energy, feather light, on a breeze from the east in search of a trail... which led to a cliff overlooking the ocean a few miles away. The cliff obviously did not belong within the confines of the town: its surface was covered with blackened snow, the wind rushed in gusts of blackened clouds which swirled in fiery passion, and the protective shield was new and growing.

Within were two figures. One obviously seethed with power, eager and impatient. In the mindscape, his energy was already formed as a flame growing and glowing red and yellow. The other figure was more subdued and vastly more arrogant. Her power stretched throughout the shield and pushed upwards as quickly as it could. Slowly the air cleared and the shield expanded. Her energy was as blacker than the mindscape, pulsing deep purples and blues to reveal a hideous monster standing tall.

Gaia spoke in terror and wonder. Alasia... Her powers are great, her strength beyond her, her mind deeper than Styx. Beware...

Alexis' mind drew closer to Ethan's. What does She mean?

Alasia is powerful. She knows much of what Gaia has to offer and is stronger than you, most likely. We will need to be very careful and work as a team. Ethan moved to test Alasia's perception of the environment and the strands of Gaia's power. A slight breeze picked up, sifting from it's natural direction towards the east toward the south. Alexis withdrew a little behind Ethan's presence in the mindscape and watched.

Appearing as a blue swirl around the fire and blackness, the wind took affect. Within moments, the blackness formed eyes in the mindscape and a tendril of searching energy flew in every direction. Ethan hid from it easily...

Until it became a mesh sweeping in wide angles.

As soon as Alasia realized Ethan's presence was so imminent, she cast two spells in concentrated effort. One made an immediate clearing through the blackened clouds to where the sun sat above the horizon, revealing pure sunlight to the cliff where Charles stood. The other was a barrier in the mindscape which appeared as a huge wall of rock, clay, and mud.

Stepping forward, Alexis moved to deal with the barrier which would certainly prevent any spells getting through to prevent Charles from his goal. As she did so, she sent a spell of her own out to test the parameters of Alasia's wall. The consequences shocked both Ethan and Alexis.

Alexis disappeared from the mindscape as soon as her minuscule spell hit the barrier. Ethan took charge with even more vigor. His senses strengthened and the feel of the Earth overwhelmed his perception. He needed to remove Alasia from action. She had already cleared away most of the clouds which stood along the sun's path across the sky and added protective spells to ensure no clouds could easily retake their places. Her attention turned back to Ethan in surprise.

Her attacks came with force. First a black veil descended Ethan's mindscape, removing the figures from view. However, he still felt everything: her feet planted shoulder width apart, her breath mingling with breeze in the air, and Charles' energy gearing up in a heatwave as it worked meticulously upward toward Helios. Minutes remained before nothing could be done.

Where Alasia stood, Ethan moved the earth to enclose her in a pod. The shock of such a sudden change was brief and her powers pushed through the frozen earth with force. In that short time, Ethan removed the veil of darkness and built a restraining wall around her powers within the mindscape so her abilities could only be focused on the plain of reality. His reinforcements were strengthened by the elements which touched Gaia directly, and its fortitude held against all of Alasia's attempts.

Ethan felt her stamp her foot upon the pile of earth below her. Charles had yet to intervene.

It's time for me to go there and confront them directly.

Then I shall take you the swiftest way.

Before his thoughts registered a change in force upon his body, Ethan was standing before a frustrated Alasia and an entranced Charles.

"YOU!" she shrieked in disbelief. "How could you be that powerful! NO one can thoroughly block me in the realm of dreams!"

A quick glance at Charles reassured Ethan of his absence from the immediate conversation. "We have not met. I am your Elder Eth--"

"I know who you are, and you are no Elder of mine!" She flung her hand out toward Ethan and a wall of smoky wind burst forward into Ethan's face. Alasia wasted no time bringing up earth to encase Ethan, but hers was enriched with foliage to harden the bond. Roots and vines bound Ethan's legs and began to quickly creep up his body as the soil spread in a flash.

Without any concern to his own predicament, Ethan forced the ground beneath Alasia to disappear, opening a crater deep into the mantel of the Earth's crust. As she fell, her own spells stopped advancing. Alasia tried pulling ledges for her to fall upon, but Ethan's spell was completely secure. As she neared the bottom, water filled the pit and she found herself floating in a well several hundred feet from the opening.

The water level rose, and as it did Alasia worked to reinforce the protections around Charles and the barriers against the clouds. She knew she was done in this fight. Once she arrived at the opening, she climbed out and stood shivering in the cold. Ethan watched and waited.

Alasia's eyes were dark with furry, starring at Ethan while purposefully ignoring the bitter chill in the air. Only half her mind remained in the plain of reality, the other half worked diligently to remove blockade in the mindscape so she could flee from the battle.

"Do you realize what could happen if Charles succeeds?" His tone was careful, patient and emotionless.

Alasia narrowed her eyes. "Jealous?" she hissed.

"Not nearly. Just concerned for the safety of life on Earth."

"Charles wouldn't jeopardize everything he has worked for. Only he will succeed in delivering us to paradise once more." She tensed which made Ethan transfer his balance to a more secure position.

His attitude didn't change. "No one fully understands Helios," he explained.

"You think your brother doesn't understand his patron?" Her laugh sent chills down Ethan's spine. "You've always known his affinity and connection to the sun. Secretly you've envied his ability to control that raw, untameable, endless power!" Alasia released one chuckle. "He's more powerful than even you."

"Alasia, you must understand what can happen if Helios gives Charles more than he can handle. It'll ignite the remaining oxygen in the atmosphere and destroy all remaining life and any hope of redeeming this world." Ethan's eyes softened.

She didn't surrender her stance. "Charles would kill himself before he let such circumstances come to fruition." The assurance in her voice weakened.

"I can't allow --"

Ethan halted his sentence as Alasia's form dissolved into the ground. She had pulled herself away, leaving silence where she had stood.

And from behind Ethan came a voice which had been lost many years ago. "Diodoros. What a wonderful surprise to see you here."

Turning around, Ethan regarded in horror the youthful form of his brother, Akakios. The body of a young adult with beautiful skin and lush hair bathed in a light which gleaned from his skin stood carelessly upon the blackened snow. His smile beamed while his eyes glared in detestation.

She Won't

The happiest place
won't show on her face today.
Her inner won't play.