Unconditional

Danny, throwing the remaining wrapper into the bin, slowly chewed the oat filled protein bar. It had a slight taste of chocolate orange, despite the taste being quite bland. It was, however, a welcome treat from eating vegetables and whatever else she decided to eat that was overly healthy.

She looked out onto the lake, it’s steady calm invading her mind, soul and body. This place, of all places, was her go to whenever she felt lost, alone, or simply struggled with life. It was her safe place, her own place, despite many other people being around her at this point in time. She could see a frisbee zipping back and forth, to her side, the barking of dogs to her other side and, once again, the calm residing in front of her.

Her mind, her thoughts, as always, presented themselves whenever she struggled to find a gap of peace within her moments. She wanted to ponder a million subjects, but this one subject simply wouldn’t leave her alone. Love. She’d often wondered, as a younger woman, what love entailed, what it embodied to other people and more. Lately, she’d been reading about unconditional love which, for some reason, evaded most people.

She knew that she was mildly selfish, the same as most people, but this unconditional thing kept creeping into her mind. She'd accepted that she loved each of her partners, past, present and possibly future, for a reason. They had a beautiful smile, knowledge, or just something about them made her want to spend her life with them. Then, over time, doubt crept into her soul and, as usual, she devalued and cast them aside.

She’d realised that loving someone for a reason, meant that once she no longer wanted, valued or required that reason, her love would fade away and the process would start again. She would repeat the same situations over and over again. All she wanted was to be loved but, of course, she knew that in order to be loved, it required sacrifice, effort, acceptance and struggle. She lowered her head, as she played with her fingers. She wasn’t proud of her actions, as she’d caused such distress, such heartbreak, convincing herself that she would eventually, or never, meet the one for her. She also knew that the one for her wouldn’t exist, until she dealt with whatever demons existed within her.

She closed her eyes, blocking out the surrounding noise. Unconditional love, to her, meant that she accepted another person for who they were, faults and all. No selfish motives or desires. She knew that thinking would destroy any relationship, with thoughts being expressed, actual brave communication, becoming the saving grace of all affection. All she had to do, was be brave. They weren't all the same and, deep down, she knew this to be true. She, however, often stayed the same and, above all, there would always be limits to how she was emotionally treated before the unconditional faded.

She sighed a heavy sigh, as she opened her eyes. “If only!” she whispered under her breath, to no-one in particular. The realisation of loving unconditionally meant surrendering to fear, to possible future disappointment, but she was willing. She wanted to find someone that was kind, giving, sensitive, strong, well dressed, well mannered, perfect, hot, sexy and more. To do that, all she had to do, on the other hand, was smile and love unconditionally.

Blackout (F2R)

It happened so fast. So quick. We didn’t have enough time to breath, to even think, before chaos rained down upon all of us. Every street, every city in the country, probably the world, erupted all at once.

It was planned, we know that it was, now. A blackout. A pure, sadistic, biblical, universal blackout. Not energy, but money. One day we all had bank accounts and the next, absolutely nothing. Everything crashed, the stock market, the entire system. Yet, funnily enough, we still had lights and electricity. It made little sense, back then.

Without money, there was the initial confusion as to how any of us would buy food. Buy anything at all. After the confusion, many turned to their basic, natural instincts. There was blood in the streets. Every single day, hundreds, thousands, maybe even more, would be killed by random gangs of marauding people. Then, the gangs turned on themselves.

This happened a few years back, when we numbered eight billion. Within one year, we numbered four billion. Then three. We literally had to stand in line for hours at a time, just to be given water, food, essentials and more. We’d seen the videos from other countries, over the years, where such things took place, but not here, not to us.

Money, basically, stopped being a thing. We were then given a social credit system, once the app appeared. It all seemed as if we were being saved, being given our lives back again. Eventually the food vans would drive door to door, keeping us in our homes for longer, making sure that we received the basics. If we weren’t home, each and every single day, we could miss out on so much. Also, the score would decline.

The mass media heralded the change as a miracle for a modern age. Civilised, but we came to realise that it was all about control. The planned blackout, the ruling parties of the world, of course, retaining their abundance within their sectioned world. The governments remained puppets, as the common people simply made do with what they were given.

It was so harsh. Eventually, as history has taught us, the mass population accepted every single change pushed upon them. There were a few that pushed back but, as is usually the case, friends and family quickly cast them out of society, shunned them and made their lives a living hell. A new blackout, for the people that didn’t get with the program, or agreed with the new order.

What’s done is done. There’s no going back to the system of old. From one corrupt way of living to another and yet, we now have far less freedom than we did before. Travel was basic, limited to the range of your electric vehicle if, of course, you could afford one with the limited social credit and available score. Only the previously rich, or famous, could afford such items and, heaven forbid, if any of them said anything against the system.

It was all corrupt. It was utter madness. Maybe it had to happen, maybe it was the only way to save all of us. Maybe, just maybe, none of us would ever know. Either way, it all changed with the blackout.

Body (F2R)

Gerald stepped down from the pod, his weary legs shaking ever so slightly. He smiled a withered, old, sunshine-soaked smile from his aged skin. Stumbling slightly, he reached out and grabbed the sides of the seat in front of him. He’d enjoyed his time, the many adventures, but it was now time to say goodbye.

He exhaled, a heavy burden leaving his mind, as he wiggled into the comfy chair. He pressed the button on the intercom, next to him, “Penny, they can come in now!”

“Thank you Mr. Sissero!” arrived the reply.

As he licked his lips, trying to placate his dry areas, three of his oldest friends walked into the room. He looked at each of them in turn. He’d known Bobby since he was a kid, the two of them immediately getting on like a house on fire, but also knocking seven shades out of each other whenever the mood took them. Bobby was Gerald’s longest confidant, his friend, the one that he could always count on.

Next appeared Barbera. She was his ex wife, the one that stood by him despite his many faults, flaws and failings. She’d hated him, loved him, hated him again but, at the end, loved him for his generosity, calm, loving nature. They were like cat and dog, even if he was far too much of a dog to keep such a wonderful woman by his side.

After Barbera, Clive appeared with the usual big smile. Clive was his business manager, the man with the miracle marvel of ensuring his money stayed where it was or, should he say, increase the money wherever it sat. All three, critical, all three, the people that he trusted more than anyone else in the world.

Gerald smiled, nodding his head, knowing that they knew exactly what was about to happen. He was, after all, a miracle worker. He’d meditated, upon a day all those years previous, realising that the human spirit, a person’s very consciousness and whole entity, could be moved from body to body. He’d made his fortune, amplified the fortune to obscene levels, which meant that the very world was his playground. Age, however, decided that he had to curb his adventures. That is, or was, until the day he’d found the human energy pool.

His thoughts cut to the chase, telling the same story again. He’d manufactured three bodies for himself, vessels, cores, transitory chariots that could and would take his very person around the world. He’d give himself more time, more energy, a solution, to live beyond his years.

At first, placing his energy into another body felt alien, a miracle, a technological marvel based upon the obvious arts of the bodies’ energy. He’d lived four separate lives, over the last twenty years, establishing each of his vessel’s characters. Then, after discovering so much, he felt that it was time to let his life fade away into old age.

He smiled a tired smile, knowing that each of them had to purify their auric field, free their spiritual chakras and, above all, live a clean life. Obviously, within moderation, where possible. In order for the transfer to take place, they all had to successfully, at least once, make the journey. Gerald gesticulated towards the pods. In turn, they’d all transfer to their new bodies.

Each of his friends deserved their gift, the transfer of life, their recidivation given another chance at purity and more. Bobby was first. The pod closed and, after a few seconds, Gerald knew that Bobby would feel the seven main metal prods pressing against his body. Then, after a short time, two more would connect and the transfer would be momentary. Gerald hadn’t really thought about what he’d do, or they would do, with their old bodies, but he was sure that they’d shortly come up with a suitable plan.

A few moments moved through the sand of time and the new Bobby stepped from the pod next to the old enclosed Bobby. He lifted up his hands, turned them over and then, the widest smile appeared across Bobby’s face. The others eventually took their turn and quickly, surely, they were all given their brand new gifts. Each of them, special. All of them, worthwhile.

Gerald smiled as the three youngsters left the room. He needed no words, his last solitary few months would be enough to have one final moment with all of them. His work, of course, would be catalogued, replicated, then given to the world as his very final gift. For everything, a time. For life, it would be forever. He knew that it would eventually be monetised, but that would be for the next generation to resolve and figure out. For now, as he lifted himself from the chair, he’d make do with the body that had held him, protected him, saved him upon occasions and stored his very essence for many a year. He was, finally, happy with the body that he called home.

Hearting (F2R)

“How are you doing now?” asked Geraldine, as she sipped her exotic drink of the moment.

Amelia, not really wishing to tackle the subject for the twelve time this week, shrugged her shoulders as she replied. “I’m… doing better. Ish!”

Geraldine nodded her head a few times, finishing off the drink and immediately trying to catch the eye of an available waiter or waitress.

“Good. I like this.”

Amelia felt her emotions rise within her. The constant battle. The annoyance of just wanting to get on with life, once again disturbed by the moment. They’d travelled out of town to escape reminders and yet, all she could think about was that her ex would have liked the location. He’d have enjoyed the time, the seconds, the affection and more. She felt a small amount of anger rise within her, but pushed it aside as she, instead, gained control of her inner monologue.

She knew that her brain had thoroughly mapped the relationship, making the other person easier to locate when related to thoughts. She just wanted him to call her but, as she'd realised, it wasn't going to happen. Her brain relied on experience instead of knowledge, with her thoughts still searching and looking for him. This, as she knew, was grief. The denial, the near madness, similar to feeling cold whilst looking at a switched off heater. It made little sense and yet, it made perfect sense.

The heart's little brain, the thousands upon thousands of neurons played a part in her suffering, with its own nervous system. The communication, the speaking words of momentary pain, the suffering all playing a part upon her mind and body. Or, should she say, her minds.

The warmth of another, pressed against her, providing the calming moments within any storm or event, all gone. Vanished. Discarded. Pushed aside. She'd never be the same again but, as she'd been informed from every source, that would be the best thing for her. A new, improved version and, above all, she’d never make the same mistakes again.

She’d adjusted, understood, realised that self-love, appreciation, looking after oneself was an absolute imperative. The love of yourself, the greater intensity, meant that she could then share that love and be equal and balanced no matter the situation. It obviously didn’t help that much, seeing as her self esteem had been shattered into a thousand little slices of pain inducing shards, but it was all part of the process. Elevating. Progressing. Adapting. Improving her frequency and levelling up.

She’d throw up if any further buzz words reached her lips so, instead, she ordered another fruity, expressive drink once the waiter arrived.

“How are you these days?” asked Amelia, knowing to expect some crazy answer.

Geraldine, obviously about to embrace her absolute favourite subject, herself, beamed a great big smile as she started.

“Well, I’m totally over that guy I met the other month and,” Geraldine paused, moving her top down a little, exposing the small ‘hearting’ device, “this thing is amazing!”

Amelia knew what it was, realised that it would be the easy way forward, but she simply didn’t wish to embrace such a solution. It regulated emotions, castrated emotional pain which, of course, turned to physical pain within the brain after a heartbreak. Sure, it hurt like hell, but she’d rather feel than feel absolutely nothing at all.

“How long have you had that now?” asked Amelia.

“Two years,” replied Geraldine, “it’s simply the best device. All the fun with none of the pain.”

Amelia smiled at Geraldine, “As long as you’re okay and moving forward!”

She’d plead with Geraldine to throw it away if, at any point, she believed that Geraldine would. Heartbreak and emotional pain, all removed with a monthly subscription. The modern equivalent to happy pills ready to go once you’ve completed the online form.

She knew that the company behind the device would be making billions and, as maddening as it sounded, even the dictionary added a new description to the word, ‘hearting’. She replayed the words in her mind’s eye, ‘The pacification of emotional pain via electronic and electrical stimulation: Hearting’.

 

Social (F2R)

Jack slammed the door, dropping his bag by the radiator, as he ran up the stairs at full pelt. He was late, very, very late, which wouldn’t do when you’re the centre of attention within hos social circle. He jumped into the bathroom, checking his hair, his complexion, any random item or skin blemish and quickly exited the room to hurry into his bedroom.

Pressing the button upon his computer, he breathed a little, trying to relax. One couldn’t arrive looking flustered as that wouldn’t present the best face forward. It was, after all, all about appearances. He had to not be not bothered, but bothered, but not ‘that’ bothered.

The screen appeared, scanned his iris and immediately launched the social hub. He prepared himself, looking ever so slightly moody, but at the same time, cool as he could be.

‘No account found’

He stared at the screen, blinking a few times, his heart skipping a beat and then nearly stopping. His adrenaline spiked a little, as he restarted the machine. Seconds flew along as he calmed a little. Another scan, another launch of the hub and, as before, no account was found.

He pushed the thoughts aside, realising that if his account had an issue, then so would others. He reached into his jacket pocket, grabbing his mobile tab. Unfolding the screens, he tapped the side fingerprint scanner and then launched the hub app with his free finger.

The app launched, with the same message appearing once again, ‘no account found’. His head started to spin, ever so slightly, as he launched the text hub.

“Are you guys online?”

One by one the notifications arrived, the message read by all, with the replies slowing appearing. They were all online. He was the only one not able to connect. Even worse, he had no account. His social score, gone, his credit history, vanished. His life outside of this house with all of his friends, over. His heart, beating out of his chest, smashing against his ribs, sent his mind into a spiral of confusion and trauma. His life was over.

Jack usually didn’t crumble under this type of pressure but, of course, this wasn’t the type of pressure he was used to dealing with. He sat down, taping the help icon on the front of the inaccessible application on his computer. Almost immediately, a chat window appeared and he started to type.

‘Hi, my computer and phone say that I have no account, no account found. Can you help?’

He tried to calm his nerves, as he read the near instant reply, ‘Hello, my name is Rachel. I see that you’re having trouble with your account! What is your id or username?’

‘Yes. Username: SexySlushPup77*’

‘I see. Please wait while I look into this for you.’

 

Jack sat, as patiently as he could, his knee bouncing up and down. He could feel his nerves claw at his skin, his mind throwing thinking towards his immediate thoughts. This was, in all cases, a nightmare of immense proportions. A reply suddenly appeared within the chat window.

‘Hello, I’m afraid that your account has been erased due to inappropriate content.’

His fingers typed the reply at speed, ‘What content? I don’t understand. I’ve not done anything wrong?’

‘It seems that your value to the Chat Hub has reached a level to which your feedback, correspondence and participation has been cancelled. Please apply for alternative social credit at your local credit office. Thank you.’

‘I don’t understand? What did I do?’

‘The chat has ended. Please close your chat window. Thank you.’

Jack had heard about this before. Mistakes happened, but this, this was one of the worst mistakes that could happen to any individual. His life, as he knew it, was now over. He was, for a better term, a lower class of citizen. Outcast, soon to be forgotten and snubbed by most of the people he once knew. Once the system tainted an individual, once you were rejected, he’d soon feel the results as people simply wished to conform.

Almost immediately, his phone started to ping. He scanned his finger and, in front of his eyes, his friend list grew smaller and smaller. It was happening. Already. His life, over, his chances and life opportunities, reduced. He started to cry, the grief hitting him like the cruellest, most destructive news he’d ever heard.

He never thought that this would happen and, like all of the rest, neither did they. The social score, destroying his life.

Lighthouse

Once upon a time, there existed an Island. It was an adventurous Island, full of wonder, excitement, positivity and far, far more. The land, growing, filled with fruit and wonderful trees, with the wildlife as extravagant as the day is long. There were bridges to said island but, as with many stories, things changed with time.

One by one, the bridges started to vanish. However, as the Island was quite brave, it created new bridges to ensure that there would always be visitors. Each time a bridge broke, burned, was crushed or abandoned to decrepit ruin, the Island would adapt, learn and create a new bridge.

It was, as advantageous as a warm summer’s day, a skill that managed to ensure life continued. Then, upon a given night, all of the bridges vanished. The Island, once the morning appeared, sat in shock as there was now no way to reach across to the great lands. Troubled, disorientated, the Island didn’t quite know what to do. Sadness entered the land and, as is often the case, weakness and strife.

Marshalling all of the animals, the Island realised that there were other ways to travel. Boats, for one solution. Many, many boats, one for each visitor. A harbour was created, ready for fishing, boating, paddle boarding or whatever, as long as people visited.

The Island watched. The Island waited. The first boat approached, as the rocks appeared into view. The boat sank, striking a large rock and, upon a blindingly dark night, the Island realised that once again, it had to adapt. The Island worked, day and night, constructing the biggest, bravest lighthouse it could find.

The light from such a construction shone across the rivers, the seas, the sprinkling of rain and far, far more. The way was clear but, even then, the rocks threatened to keep all visitors away. You see, the Island knew that people didn’t wish to deal with difficulties, as they simply wished everything to be quick, easy, without trouble or, possibly, the rocks of life breaking bridges and boats.

Despite the light, despite the way becoming clear, the clarity of suitable paths, people stayed away from fear of having to think, resolve, understand and, possibly, give their effort instead of simply having everything handed to them.

The Island, frustrated, felt the deep depression of life’s lonely shores. It wanted to hide, it wanted to run away, despite being stuck to the very earth that held it together. Upon another cold, dark, scary night, the Island finally realised the greatest realisation that had ever been understood. The Island did not need bridges, or boats, or even a great big lighthouse for people to visit. The solution was simplicity itself.

The Island, slowly, methodically, removed each of the large rocks that bared an turned away visitors. The smooth sands of the beaches started to appear. Weight lifted from the Island’s soul, as calm appeared within the trees, upon the earth, within the very air that whooshed and embraced the animals upon their dens and habitats. The Island would not wish for visitors as, instead, visitors would wish to visit the Island of their own accord.

All at once, the Island stopped. The need for bridges, gone. The desire for visitation, relaxed. The endeavours of such a soul, changed. The most important desire, wish, want, need or sustenance, was the calm of its own lands. The Island would smile, if it could smile, instead deciding to radiate warmth for all. Its existence, calmed. Its purpose in life, ratified. The very light from within its own house, finally shining from within.

Eyes

I know that you’re there, somewhere, somewhere close but still so very, very far away. I’ve driven myself into that circle of issues, saying your name a hundred times, but that’s okay as this is life. It’s the life of mine. It’s the life that we wish to share, with each other, with another, with every single person we meet.

I feel you, your lips still saying the words that mean so much to a person such as myself. I’m not naïve, but maybe just a little, when it comes to you. I… love you. I cannot help or refrain from doing so. There are many moments within this world that one would and should never forget. Within a second, you can meet someone that’s so special, that it takes your very breath away to make something new.

I hear you, even when you’re saying nothing at all. Those whispers of yours, that contain doubt, emotions and far, far more than I can understand, are heard. I know that none of us are perfect, but I honestly don’t look to a person to see their flaws, as I’d prefer to see the beauty within every single soul. There will always be lines upon our skin, but that’s life and each line speaks to what we’ve accomplished. They speak of what we’ve been through. It’s easy to love beauty, but it’s easier for me to love someone that’s genuine, pure and not afraid to show the real person underneath. Show me your emotional scars and I’ll kiss each and every single one of them. If no words are expressed, then expressionless action will be returned.

You can call on me, whenever you feel the need. I’ll admit it, I’ll speak the truth, as I won’t always be there for you. That’s impossible. While I can be, I will be. If my hand can reach yours, it will. If I can hear you, I’ll protect you and support you in whatever endeavour you feel necessary. I’m hardly a cannon ball, but we can see what damage I can inflict upon the world for your wanted words. Just for you. With you.

I’m mumbling, spouting words upon the page as I’m trying to get to a point that I’ll  more than likely never find. Sometimes, I use far too many words as I write. You can hardly blame a musician for playing the chords of life, such as bemoaning a wordsmith for letters upon a page. Sometimes, I don’t use enough. It is true. It’s obvious. My heart is open, as much as I can allow, as there’s always that chance of becoming completely closed.

What I’m trying to say, is that whatever happens, you don’t need to say anything. You contain a depth to which many people hide. You’re so very, very caring that I often wonder if I could ever reach the heights to which you love. I can feel your pain, the worry for others, but that’s okay because your eyes, your beautiful eyes, tell me every single thing that need not be said.

Click to LISTEN

(Originally written 03.11.2020 and then a little added/modified 20.06.2022)

I’m not 100% sure where I was going with this one…

Were (F2R)

Claudia stepped towards the podium, tapping the microphone, which sent a couple of loud thuds through the docking area. They’d finally completed the journey, all alive, all still abundantly excited for the days ahead. She, obviously, felt absolutely elated that the mission had reached the end without as much as a broken toe.

She prepared herself, put on her mask, then started to address the seven thousand people in front of her.

“As you all know, we’re about to land onto RF774, a planet that can support life, allow our race, the human race, an opportunity to colonise and grow beyond Earth. When we finally touch down, in,” she lifted her wrist to look at her watch, “three minutes, RF774 will be known as New Earth!”

She smiled, as the rapture grew within the dock, the cheers warming her soul, the emotions running high with gratitude, excitement and more. She felt blessed and, despite her authoritative nature during the journey, internally commended herself. It was her victory, her triumph, that had brought them here.

As the cheers continued, she glanced to her left side, wondering why Daniel was grunting and making other odd noises. Her face turned to absolute shock, the fear obvious, as she witnessed Daniel changing from man to beast. She watched as his face sprouted hair, his upper teeth elongating over his bottom lip, his back and chest increasing dramatically in size and the fact that he lost most of his clothes.

She slowly moved her head upward, following the growth of the thing in front of her. As she leaned backwards, just a little, the fear still holding her in place, Daniel stepped forward and bit into her face. She’d scream, if she could do so, as the life left her body. Daniel lifted Claudia from the ground, shaking her like a rag doll, before releasing his canine type grip, sending her body flying behind the podium.

Daniel, moving his head side to side, stretching his neck muscles, faced the podium just as Claudia had done a few moments earlier. He cleared his throat, as the low guttural noises echoed through the microphone.

“Ladies, gentlemen, Wolves, it’s time to be free!”

Daniel watched as the entire crew, nearly every passenger, changed in front of his eyes.

“Please feel free to feast upon the human crew, they have it coming… but not Joe, we like Joe!”

Daniel pointed at Joe, who stood near the front of the crowds of changing werewolves, shaking in absolute fear. After a few moments, with a few bloodied and ripped bodies of the human crew lying on the floor, the Wolves chanted their usual wolf chants.

“We,” proclaimed Daniel with strength residing in his voice, “have been ridiculed for too long. Joe knows how we feel, right Joe?” Joe nodded in agreement, fearing for his life if he didn’t do so.

“We’ve lived amongst them, generation after generation, watching the corruption, the greed, the intolerance and the weak bowing down to the oppressive, laughing, ridiculing governments around the world. We had enough. We forged a plan and today, as we touch down upon this new world, we finally have a place to call home. Within weeks, two more ships will arrive with our brethren, and we will be complete!”

Daniel steadied himself ever so slightly, as the ship touched the surface of the new planet.

“Welcome, one and all, to your new home. This is not New Earth, this is our planet and this planet will be called Wolf One. Today, tomorrow and always!”

The room exploded with chants, howling, as they had finally found a place where they were all valued.

Origami (F2R)

Master Keno tapped the keyboard which, in turn, presented the relaxing tones that his students had come accustomed to. Today, of all days, was the relaxing day of the week. He smiled, knowing that each day was, of course, the relaxing day of the week. Each day, taken as a single, solitary, selection of hours, minutes and moments. He cared not for the morrow, or the previous day, as today was the only day he and his students asked for.

His students, all around the age of sixteen, sat in various poses and slumped situations. They were a good bunch of young adults, despite their infrequent moods or tantrums upon life’s vestiges of days gone by. He’d given each of them a couple of flexi-pages, which could be folded and then, immediately, returned to a flat surface. It could be written upon a thousand times, then every single word removed. A minor miracle of the modern age, especially seeing as trees, more or even less, were practically extinct.

Master Keno had also provided each of them simple, easy, exquisite instructions on how to fold and create themselves a beautifully presented crane. They huffed a little, as they were within the age range that recalled the mobile devices of old. The constant scrolling, the quick fixes, with their attention span measuring moments within the day’s long adventures.

He watched as they folded the paper, trying again and again to perfect their designated shape. He knew that their subconscious mind was ready for wealth, understanding, as their focused mind attached all of its energy to the task at hand.

“Students, continue your work, “ started Master Keno, “but hear my words. Take all of your fears. All of your insecurities. Place them onto the paper that exists within your mind. Create beautiful objects, create something positive from any negatives that you have. Fold the learnings and understandings into new ideals. Create a reason for peace. Fold the meanings into your improved impressions and create a masterpiece of stability within!”

The students, listening to every word from Master Keno’s lips, continued to fold in near silence. It was an amazing sight to behold. The concentration, the ability to focus upon a singular task with constant restrain, would improve their focussing ability in so many ways.

Something so simple, so delicate, as crafting a paper crane, echoed his imaginative thoughts of how the mind tried to fashion solutions. It would tease, taint, twist, fabricate and envision illusions to ensure it gathered what it needed, be it a seductive, charmed thought, or the delight of a day’s plan. He simply wished for his students to relax, form positive thoughts and emotions, from whatever life threw at them.

Since the changes, he’d realised that they needed tasks to perform. They needed structure, guidance, solid leadership, in order for each of them to form bonds and to strive ahead. Master Keno tapped the keyboard again, sending out new tones to embellish their enhanced calm.

One by one, after each other, the students placed their newly created crane constructs onto his desk. He watched as an army of cranes appeared, each with differing colours, sizes, with some looking decidedly unlike the designated crane on the instructions. It mattered not, as attempting the task was, as he knew, better than never trying at all. He smiled, nodding, knowing that each of them required no feedback as the attempt, as his mind had just envisioned, was enough.

He walked to the front of the desk, bowed, then produced another construct. Some students smiled, some gasped, with others showing their comic hesitation, as Master Keno showed them the Origami octopus. Another challenge, for another day. Once again, he bowed, as the clock struck the target time and the students quickly exited the room.

Master Keno walked around the desk, sitting upon the chair, as he started to un-fold each of the cranes ready for the next lesson. Hopefully, expectantly, he wished for each of them to realise that no matter the object or situation in front of them, they could, would and should, visualise the object's situation and, eventually, fold their thoughts into a positive, beautifully presented, solution of Origami origins.

Feed (F2R)

Sandra sat on her bed, just next to the small bedside cabinet, looking at the bone conduction hearing aid. She’d been wearing the device for many years and now, seeing as nearly everyone she knew also had one, she’d had enough.

She touched the small plastic device, wondering if it actually sensed her or, even, had a soul. She scolded herself for thinking such idiotic thoughts, as such an inanimate object could never have a soul. Instead, it simply removed the soul from a person. Their individuality, their lives but a former shadow of what they once were.

She thought about all the kids in the world, innocent, special, until they reached an age where they were proudly given an item such as the one in front of her. It was, basically, all about control. Controlling the narrative, controlling the people, moving them one way, while the world moved another. Financial gain, greed, compliance and everything else in between.

Gently, she moved the device with her index finger, towards the edge of the cabinet. She watched as it fell into the bin just to the side. It was done. Over. No more. She’d tried to embrace the new world, but simply could not bring herself to participate any longer. It was a lonely life with the device, but a lonely and free life without.

She suddenly felt anxiety rise within her chest, at the thought of being left out of the loop. The media and social endeavours becoming silent within her mind. By now, in the last few moments, she’d have received at least three updates. Over and over again. The meta base reaching into her life and embracing her with cold, rigid certainty.

All of them, all of her friends, held captive to a never-ending feed of notifications, adverts, wishes and delectable enticements. All fed straight into her subconscious mind going through the power of speech. She knew that spirituality had commanded many a soul, over the centuries, with their mantras, affirmations, prana energy and soul searching silence, yet this seemed to amplify such moments for the never ending financial gain of the famous and rich.

All day, every day of the week, at all moments in time, she was fed updates. Even when driving, caring for another, shopping, travelling or even when she wanted silence, the need and desire simply grew and grew to constantly require micro-increments of her brain’s beautiful chemicals. It was, almost, a constant source of vapid communication.

The final straw, for Sandra, arrived upon the night she noticed the subliminal messaging playing ever so faintly as she slept. She could hardly make out the words, but there were there, whispering, taunting, encroaching upon her boundaries as well as sanity. Enough was enough. The social media meta feed had to stop. It simply had to end.

She’d crush the device, as it sat at the bottom of the bin, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to do so. The addiction, realised. The solution, attempted. She reached into the bin, grabbing the device, to return it to the cabinet. She knew that she wouldn’t and couldn’t let the addiction go as, instead, she’d simply keep it on the cabinet.

 She’d wean herself off of the habit, first. Secondly, she’d just log into a hand pc and directly check the updates. Baby steps. Small steps. Non-addictive steps. After all, she’d been fed for such a long time, that every habit at least needed to be nurtured before being kicked away from life. She’d feed, but only for a reduced time. She hoped.

Emotions 2.0

In our lives, I truly believe that we’re supposed to obtain balance. A calm. A knowing that everything within our lives is, more or less, as it should be. Sure, I desire and love adventure, even live for it, but I do want more than a solitary existence. I’d love to feel joy at all times but, as life is the way it is, I’m comfortable with fleeting moments of joy as some things, some emotions, are difficult to maintain when life throws stuff at you. Realism, being realistic, is something that could be said to be sensible.

I’ve not feared much, other than being abandoned, but that’s my inner-child, parental induced fears rearing their heads. Dealt/dealing with that, thanks for asking. For once in my life, I’m learning to be ‘fully’ alone. The trouble is, as I’ve read a hundred times, we’re never alone. Ever. You will always have ‘you’ within your own mind and that… that alone, ‘should’ be enough to satisfy a heart.  As long as the inner child is safe, secure, educated and nourished, we should be balanced human beings. Sharing is where it’s at. From fear to love. A vibrational analysis. I’m also understanding that I cannot fix anyone else. That’s their journey and, as I’ve found, seldom do people resolve their issues and then, as usual, commit the exact same mistakes over and over again (as I have!). You HAVE to face your fears. Absolutely, completely, or they will keep you confined.

The ’thing’ with having yourself as a passenger, is that it’s all bundles of fun and silence, ‘if’, you’ve found a balance. I had. I did. I was balanced (to an extent), but that’s been removed for a small amount of time. The mind taunts, the mind deludes, and above all, the mind persecutes.

There are so many emotions that we can feel, that we can ‘think’ into existence. Shame, supposedly at the bottom of the pile, is something that I’ve felt at a younger age. It’s an awful emotion, a terrible feeling which, thankfully, has slowly faded away over the years. Dealt with it, been there, cried, thought about it all, admitted it, realised that no-one really cares that much. Shame eats at a person.

Then there’s guilt and apathy. Guilt is something that I do feel, from time to time. I said and did this. I could have said that instead. Why did this happen? Why didn’t that happen? It revolves and, again, eats at a person. The past is the past. We can only appreciate, understand, learn, adapt and vow to never, ever, make the same stupid mistakes again. This is life. We’re not perfect. Thankfully, I’m not blind to my mistakes and I own them, acknowledge them and act to fix them (I hope). Apathy, for one, is a place that we do not need to find ourselves. I’ve felt, funnily enough, apathy (which sounds odd as you feel nothing at all). For a year, or more, I felt nothing. I simply did not care but, as with many things that we block, once you open up, the emotions arrive at speed. We have to feel, we have to experience, otherwise we miss so much life. I’d rather cry for an entire month, than feel absolutely nothing for a week (well… maybe).

Grief, usually, arrives with its friend, fear. I’ve felt grief. I’ve felt grief like you couldn’t imagine. I’ve lost quite a lot, maybe less than some, more than others, but I’ve been there. Life moves forward and it becomes lonely. Grief, at times, is a reminder of how brittle life can be. Grief can create a near physical pain within the mind which, I’m afraid, I’ve experienced far too many times. Fear is something that I’m okay with, dealing with the feeling, moving it to the side, as I’m not really afraid of much. Grief, as above, is something that I simply do not want. Depending on the cause, grief will/can stop us loving someone again and that, I’m afraid, is the fear of being brutally disappointed, cast aside and left. This is a fear that I must overcome. Eventually. Losing someone to life is… devastating. It’s something we’ll ALL have to face.

Desire has its place within the world. It is, unfortunately, often placed in a situation where it really shouldn’t belong. It can cause people to do some silly, silly things. Desire goes against the universal law of attraction, the freedom of allowing the magnetism of the world to care for your wants, whilst also being a little bit strong. Sure, if you’re in a loving relationship, use the word to create smouldering affection that burns the room down, but release the intensity afterwards. We should not, realistically, ‘desire’ anyone. If you desire a new car, go for it, but the strength of the word probably means that the car will not quench the ‘desire’ once you have what you want. I’ve never really desired anything, or anyone, although Brie Larson rings a bell. I’ve given up on Jennifer Love Hewitt. We, of course, desire what we no longer have, once it’s gone. Desire is best abandoned quickly within your thoughts.

Anger. Anger is a good one. I’ve wallowed in anger in my younger years. It can get you through heartbreak, it can manifest strength as well as a purpose, and it can allow you to punch and kick until your fingers bleed. Thankfully, we reach an age, or a place, where anger no longer reaches into our hearts and hurts us. There’s been times where I wanted to be angry, but I’ve held it down (tried to), within me, in order not to be nasty or to ‘snap’ comment. ‘Do not attack!’ is something I often say to my inner mind. Anger serves no purpose to a civilised person. Once you feel anger, you’ve lost a small part of the conversation, yourself, as well as your body chemistry. It has no place within my world. Unless I’m pushed and pushed. People that love you should never, EVER, present anger to your heart. It is a reflection of their personality and often not on your actions (unless you’re being a dick).

Then there’s pride. Oh, my friend pride. Each time I’ve felt the feeling rise within me, someone or something has come along and smacked me in the gut. I’m not sure if I can realistically feel pride at this moment in my life. I’ve seemingly lost a great big part of myself. What once was, can never be the same again. Pride is neither here nor there for someone like myself. I’ve owned this, done that, been there, but it doesn’t really mean ‘that’ much to me in a pride sense. I’ve simple needs from the world. I’d just like to hold someone’s hand. That’s pretty much it. No pride required. Replace pride with a shared love and THEN you’re talking.

To escape most of the above, you have to have the little thing called courage. I’m currently finding my courage (again). Slowly, surely, it’s increasing. I’ve felt so many differing emotions over the last few months, that I ‘had’ to find my courage eventually. Then, at some point, we find our next little gem: neutrality.

Neutrality is a safe place to exist. It won’t win any awards, but’s it’s comfortable. Reasonable. When people are searching for their next high, the next person or event to satisfy their never-ending needs because their own existence is boring as hell, I’m over in the corner doing my own thing. I do enjoy life and I do enjoy adventures, but feeling negative emotions is not for me. I want them to go away as soon as possible. Neutrality is the absence of strong feelings. I ‘do’ wish to be in love, but love can descend into a lot of negative emotions. Communication is everything and yet, the safest place in the world is neutrality. Sometimes we DO have to face situations. Sometimes we ‘do’ have to face our fears, find the courage, as we become stronger people for facing what is often ourselves. I ‘feel’ that I need to escape the neutral zone (not that I’m there yet). Level-up, become more, embrace one of the positive emotions and work with it. Such is what will be.

After that little slice of pie, one cannot always stay neutral, which brings us to willingness. We have to be willing to embrace new adventures. New experiences. Often, if we’re unhappy, we project that unhappiness onto the people we love the most. It’s not the other person’s fault, as we’re ALL responsible for our own lives, our own emotions and that’s what conversation is for. We have to be willing, to show that willingness, to be ready, eager and prepared to do something. I’m willing to embrace change, to do what’s necessary, but I haven’t always been that way. Sometimes we stand still. Life is moving, so we have to move with it. I’m willing to progress, as soon as I reach a level where I can do so. The flow of life is in my soul right now. Let it be and let it happen naturally… .

Then, once we’re willing, there’s acceptance. I’ve had to accept a lot, lately. When your emotional stability is shattered, that’s one thing. When your self-esteem is flattened and you feel that every good quality you’ve possessed meant jack all, that’s another. When you mix them all up, you realise that you have no choice but to learn, adapt, change, re-evaluate, overcome your negative emotions and move forward. Even when every single person you know shouts at you, ‘not’ to change, as you’re awesome, or amazing, you still have to accept… you’re not perfect. You failed. Eventually, via acceptance, we should allow ourselves access to something greater. Events in life give people opportunities to improve, to learn or, to just keep on doing the same thing that they’ve always done. For the latter, nothing will ever change. Be willing to improve, or stagnate. Thank you for my lesson (universe).

We need a reason. Powerful events have happened over the ages, due to various reasons. We do need a cause, an explanation, or even a justification for an event. It’s difficult to find any reason, once you’re knee deep in negative emotions, but if we’re willing and have found acceptance, we can find a reason for most things. Become a 2.0 version of yourself. Don’t believe the inner monologue that constantly shouts at you. We ‘are’ good enough. We ‘are’ worthwhile. We ‘do’ deserve (self) love.

Once we’re on the path or, as I’ve told myself, clearing the path of rubbish thoughts and increasing our knowledge with books and meditation, we can eventually find that thing called... love. Personally, I absolutely refuse to love another person for the rest of my life. No. It’s NOT going to happen. Instead, I’m learning to accept, to find a reason, to ‘share’. Each person should have their own love, that they’d like to share. I don’t want someone to prop up my emotional stability, as that can lead to disappointment, anger and more. Don’t do it!  Your imagination, or soul, is both your enemy AND your saviour. We allow it to imagine such negativity, whilst possibly ignoring the fact that it can fix so much. I have nothing else to say about Love. It's a subject for another time, another year.

After love, there’s joy. I cannot really state that I’ve felt that much joy. I have, at times, as well as peace.  Or, possibly, ‘think’ that I have. Peace, to me, is holding the hand of the person I love. I’ve felt such calm within my heart and soul that I cannot express how good it actually felt. The trouble with joy and peace, is that it’s fleeting unless two people are grounded, tuned to each other and want the same things. Even then, it’s not enough. (Communication and understanding can find peace AND joy!)

It's not enough, as we’ve all experienced a lifetime of emotions. We’ve been hurt, thrown away, abandoned, abused, treated like utter crap and more. We’ve experienced the roller coaster rides and, even I, have been angrily berated because I find the middle ground a good place to be (who would have thought that a Libra would think SUCH a thing!?). Even now, I’m in an emotional strife that should fully pass within another couple of months. I don’t want to live within the negative emotional words!  Living a solitary life means that you can find a place of calm. On the other hand, I refuse to stay on my own as we’re not meant to be that way. I’m not giving up just yet!

Finally, we have enlightenment. I’m trying! Honestly, I really am. From an emotional standpoint, we’re all in different places. I have a mix of anger (at myself, mostly), a small amount of fear, a lessening source of grief, no pride, increased courage, with willingness and acceptance starting to appear. Will we ever find enlightenment? Sure, we will, we can, if we try. All we need is to be willing, to accept, to find the reason, embrace our own love, find joy, hold peace and then… anything is possible. That’s all. No biggie. After all, WE are in control of our feelings and that fact alone should and can save every single one of us, from our... (negative) emotions.

P.s. Now all I have to figure out is why I keep waking up at 5/6am EVERY SINGLE morning!

Click to Listen

Inspiration: Omega Ultimate Consciousness

Rats (F2R)

Derek opened the latch to the crypt, as the usual eerie sound echoed into the caverns just ahead of the following steps. He didn’t want to be here but, as with many things in life, he’d accepted his situation many years previous. He’d, at least, found some scraps from the local fast food restaurant’s bin. This, to Derek, was a good thing. Falling asleep on an empty stomach wasn’t something that he was fond off, but it happened from time to time.

He stepped down a few steps, turning to close the gate behind him, before continuing on his small journey. At the bottom of the steps, sat the usual pool of shallow water which always appeared after even the smallest downpour. Hopping over the water, he switched on his solar torch and made his way into the catacombs. After a few moments, he found his usual spot which, thankfully, had the smallest amount of light from the grid just above his chosen resting place. He often enjoyed watching various particles of dust floating around, seemingly invisible, until the light brought them into reality. It’s what he had, it’s what he enjoyed, with anything being better than having no thoughts or enjoyment at all.

He sat down onto the small, dry mattress, exhaling as the strain from walking long distances left his body. He opened the medium sized carton, happy at the choice delicacies he’d found by chance. A half eaten chicken leg, a full, plump chicken breast and an entire, small, corn on the cob. He didn’t especially like the fact that the corn managed to get stuck within his remaining teeth, but beggars would never be choosers in his eyes. His lips pressed against the leg, as his teeth pulled at the chicken. It was succulent, but cold. Luckily, he’d found it moments after being discarded which, of course, meant that there could be a chance of actually having a seemingly hot meal. Upon this occasion, it wasn’t so.

The food entered his stomach, the growling within almost immediately stopping as his body realised that it had work to do. He ravished the rest of the food as quickly as he could, placing the bones and a few shards of chicken just to the side of his bed. He had others to feed and, despite his situation, the kindness within his heart knew no limits. If he could, he would help all of them.

The last little part of the corn vanished from view, as he burped a small little silly burp, which brought a smile and ever so slight giggle to his breath. He nodded a few times, thanking whichever deity was listening. Thankful, for the meek and small gift that had been brought his way upon this day.  He was, genuinely appreciative, to still be alive. He’d dream big, but his imagination preferred to stay within the here and now. Each day, as it arrived. Each opportunity, a gift within a moment’s notice.

He curled up into a small little human sized ball, upon the mattress, allowing the day’s events to play through his mind. It was, as always, a long day. The same faces mixed in within the million other faces that he’d possibly never see again. The world span within his consciousness, as he felt the night’s chill appear upon his bones. Even three layers of decrepit clothing couldn’t evade the cold warning of the night.

As he turned to rest upon his other side, facing the scraps of his food, he smiled a smile as he finally fell asleep to the view of a hundred rats gathered around him.  The rats, within their home, gnawed upon the gifts of food. There were many of them, thousands, millions, billions across the world, but today they were only a few hundred in this area. They had grown accustomed to Derek, even thankful, as all they’d known in their lives was fear, aggression, shouting and death when faced with the large two-legged animals. They would never forget the days when Derek looked after their own, nursed them back to health, after an accident within the upper world.

They’d changed, the rats of old, which they all knew. They’d watched as the previous generation had died out, allowing the enhanced breed to increase their numbers. Proficient, engineered, given many objectives within their daily lives to clean and clear the world. For them, however, looking after Derek was something that they’d allowed themselves to embrace instead of feeling fear or staying hidden as much as possible.

They watched as his breathing slowed, as Derek started to shake with the cold and, upon this moment, they did what they did each and every single night that Derek graced them with his kind company. They moved around him, over him, covering him with their warm bodies, their fur and their affection. It was but an act from one animal to another. A sharing of emotional care, despite their fear of the upper animals. They pressed against him, his warmth becoming theirs and their warmth becoming his. They felt a certain calm from Derek, his auric soul, his shield of energy, calming their fear and allowing them to sleep and rest as one. They were called rats, but most certainly, not by nature.

Papillon (F2R)

Abigail lifted her arm, tentatively, gasping with awe at such a marvellous creature seemingly floating in front of her. She’d never seen such a spectacle before, being seven and only ever audibly hearing books and descriptions of such things.

She marvelled as the butterfly flapped its wings and, within an instant, landed onto the edge of her hand. She moved her face a little closer, her eyes wide, her smile growing, gasping at the colours and beauty of the insect in front of her.

Mable, leaning over slightly as to not scare the perched butterfly, noticed how amazed Abigail seemed when witnessing such a beautiful creature.

“Would you like to know more?” she asked Abigail. Abigail, of course, nodded her head.

“Well, butterflies are insects, they flap their wings around five times every second and, believe it or not, they taste their food with their front feet!”

Abigail looked up at Mable, expressing a scrunched up face at the thought of tasting food with her front feet. Mable continued.

“The butterfly belongs to the lepidoptera group of insects and, unfortunately, they only love for a few weeks to a month!”

Abigail’s smile faded ever so slightly at the thought, her learning, inquisitive mind reminding herself that life was but a time for all things. Within a few moments, her thoughts moved away, back to the beautiful colours as the butterfly continued its journey.

Mable straightened herself, her mildly aching back reminding her not to bend quite so much. She stepped away from Abigail, as a small amount of sadness entered her soul. 

Everyone seemed to worry about the bees, but not the butterflies. She knew that both carried pollen, with the butterfly travelling further distances, but still the media focussed on the bee. This sanctuary, if she’d call it such a name, was a reminder to the people that knew. The people that realised that the butterfly signalled the health of an eco-system. It was shame, a travesty, that they’d all died out ten years earlier. Measures were taken, but the damage was already done.

She watched as the group of children, all happy, some dancing, some expressing their wonderment to abandon, enjoyed their chance to thankfully witness the moment. As she watched, a butterfly fell from the air, in front of her. She looked around the room, realising that no-one had noticed.

Quickly, she scooped up the butterfly, casually walked across the room, gently unscrewing the butterfly’s abdomen. She opened the cabinet in front of her, moving a finger along the descriptions, until she found the correct small drawer. Opening the drawer, she selected a replacement battery, as she dropped the previous part into the recharge tray.

She screwed the battery into place, tapped together the rear legs and the butterfly flew away to re-join it’s pre-determined path and action. She reminded herself again, of the worth of such creatures upon the world. The balance, the energy, the sustainability of life as humanity had known it.

She’d give anything, some dreams, many hopes, all of her love, to one day see a real life butterfly, the Papillon, within natures circle once more.

Immortal (F2R)

Christopher blinked, the small ice particles floating away as his muscles regained a momentary respite, from the frozen skin regenerating over and over again. It was all but a near constant experience. Regeneration, healing, freezing, over and over again.

His mind, for the millionth time, regressed to how it had all started. He was forty-seven, at the time, upon a random day to which he could not pinpoint. He’d been working on himself, the transitory turbulence once again threatening to disrupt his calm, but he knew that he’d recover. He’d found a new way, a resolution to resolve his persecution and never ceasing mind. He’d find a path. A new path. A path that required an evolved type of person, calm, reflective, understanding and with increased masculine energy.

He'd enjoyed his years of solitude, the wondering and wandering of a clear mind, but that also brought forward different problems. Life was difficult, life had challenges and, even if his life was perfectly calm, others within that life were not. He was slow, pondering, plodding to make a decision and, for once, he couldn’t realistically blame that upon being a star sign such as a Libra.

He’d found his path and the only way forward would be to clear that same said path. No restrictions, no trauma, no doubts, all issues resolved, finding himself and curing his inner-child of the hesitancy to love without question.  This, above all, was his priority.  Clear the path so someone could walk alongside him. Clear the path for the universe to afford him his wants within the world.

Upon a day, a very distant day, he’d found the energy within. He’d found ‘his’ energy and connected to the source. His mind flicked through a hundred images, all at once, struggling to retain his balance. He could feel his energy field fluctuate, the power within his core resetting once again.

He’d found the universe. He’d found salvation within a world of deities and scriptures and Gods. Somehow, something within, connected. He felt his very body, his vessel, vibrate to a new source of wonder. He’d never felt anything like it before, the energy, the calm and, to which he’d later regret, the life.

He’d shed a tear, if it wouldn’t immediately dry to ice and float away from him. Instead, he continued to reminisce. Twenty years passed, since he’d found the course, the very core of what he could become. He’d wished that he’d transcended and ascended to the realm of pure energy but, instead, he remained rooted to the earth that he called home.

Twenty further years moved through his life until, one day, he realised that he’d not aged a day since the universe touched his soul. Then another twenty. He watched as friends left the mortal realm. He witnessed lovers, the many twin flames, moving towards his embrace only to, eventually, leave his world. He’d grown accustomed to loving with no reserve, embracing with zero hesitation, despite the inevitable ache upon the day they left his side. He’d read a thousand books, trying to explain the aching within, but nothing prepared a soul for such moments.

A hundred years moved through his sight, as he travelled to each corner of the world, that would not let him leave. He was, for a better word, an immortal. The universal energy flowing through him as if he were but a critical cog within the system of love. He found a new appreciation for people, places and the words we’d all use. He taught himself every language, could play all of the instruments he could find, knew two words to calm a heart and three words to clear a soul.

Three hundred years moved along the path of life, his clarity reaching the levels of transcendence and yet, he remained upon the mortal realm. He witnessed the struggles of humanity, the many repeated mistakes of greed and, eventually, the ending of a world.

A day arrived where the human race faced utter destruction. They could have prepared but, instead, they trifled within their own petty fears and doubts. When the day arrived, he stepped forward to offer the words that every soul needed to hear. I was too late. The earth cracked. The earth split. The very planet below his feet, broke in two and died within an instant.

He heard billions of souls scream in pain as they all expired within seconds. He stood upon the dying earth, felt the planet’s impactful soul release its energy to the universe and then, he floated. Gently, slowly, his feet left the earth, his rooted calm finally broken, as he floated into the cold void of space. The immortal, destined to float amongst the very stars, until a new moment changed his entire course of life.

He would have a screamed a million times, if there were an atmosphere to make such a gesture, but there was no such thing within the void. Tired, nearing the realms of utter madness, afforded to him by such a solitary existence, his visions and memories finally offered little respite. He’d had enough and, with one valiant, understanding notion, he called upon every single element of energy within his vessel and, finally, ascended from his mortal realm.

At first, he felt the utter bliss of becoming and, then, the ecstasy of finally leaving his body behind. A new being, a new source of prana, the pure energy of consciousness finally free. The love within him, finally, after an eternity, becoming immortal.

Fable (F2R)

Alder, finally satisfied that the children around him had settled, started the story, “Once upon a time, there existed,” he paused, taking David’s finger from his nose, “there existed children who didn’t pick their nose!”

He cleared his throat and started again.

“Once upon a time, there existed moments of magic, self-miracles and inner peace!”

The children gazed at Alder, adoring his stories of the olden days. Alder, knowing very well that they did, also enjoyed the minutes and seconds just as much. He, of course, had specific and special access to the libraries of old, the place that was found by his four friends all the years previous to this very day. Within a crumpled building, behind a heavy door, existed books of wealth, wonder and knowledge.

Upon the finding day, the five of them, his friends, had declared that they would never, as long as they lived, share the location of the place of wonderment. Now, all of the years later, he’d decided to finally speak about his readings. He knew so much, about the way things used to be, before technology re-wrote the entire world. The days of magic, all but vanished, save for the five of them. Five, that is, until three passed into the heaven of ones and zeros.

The children, eager to hear and learn, continued to listen.

“There were men made of peace and tranquillity, women of wonder and steadfastness, people that expressed their gratitude to one another and, upon a given day, meditated!”

“What’s meditated?” asked one of the children the moment Alder had barely but finished speaking.

Alder smiled, knowing that this subjected would stay with them for many, many years.

“To mediate, allows a person to find their inner silence. It permits a person to explore the unknown of their inner and, at times, outer energy. It is to find peace and, more importantly, silence the mind to which we are a slave!”

The children giggled, not quite understanding the subject, to which Alder could, however, still see that their interest was high.

“Okay, how about we try something, yes?”

The children nodded.

“Close your eyes. No peeking! Breath in through your nose, left or right nostril will do, hold for a second, then breath out through your mouth.”

The children did as requested, excited to try new things. As they expelled, Alder continued.

“Have a think about how that felt. Breath in again but, this time, concentrate on your actions. Your breathing. How do your lips feel, do you feel calm after breathing out?”

The children nodded as they opened their eyes. Alder had known, since visiting the magical book building, that so much had changed over the centuries. Books were banned, replaced with state sanctioned literature. Freedom was removed, replaced with identification bracelets and more, all for the benefit of society, despite each individual no longer being free. He knew that upon a given day, fear, prejudice, division and intolerance were bred within each of them, despite society supposedly becoming more liberated and tolerant. It was a ruse for all of them to look right, while the real secret took place to the left.

Alder, knowing that time was short, especially upon this day of days, kept his remaining words quick and precise.

“Okay children, that’s it for today,” he paused, as the kids tutted and grew expressively disappointed, “but remember what I told you! Don’t repeat what I’ve said here! Magic and self-accountability are no longer allowed and, what do we want to be when we grow up?”

All the children repeated the previously given affirmation in slightly differing tones, “We will become responsible adults when we grow up!”

“Good, good!” replied Alder as his smile grew.

He knew, he just knew that the eight of them would become the magical tribe once he passed into the heaven that he’d read about. The heaven from the fables, not the new religiously crafted heaven of tyranny and subterfuge.

After all, behind every fable, there was a sprinkling of truth, honesty and magic.