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.