The Ottawa Odyssey

Well, I've finally returned from the good ol' capital of Canada, which I did, indeed, misjudge from the front seat of our taxi on my first day in. Although parts of it are quite dilapidated and superficially rundown, the downtown core is absolutely beautiful, and the Parliament buildings on Wellington Street are definitely gems of an age of architecture long lost in the folds of history.

While there, I read the newspaper left in front of my hotel room door every morning more than I ever had back here in Powell River. Perhaps it was the central atmosphere of the city and everyone's political awareness and literacy that drove me to keep pace with world affairs, I'm not sure; but newspapers definitely took on a new zeal of fascination and interest for me.

I was also present to witness, in the first person, world history in the making, as I was in the Parliament Building's House of Commons, no more than 20 feet away from Liberal party leader Michael Ignatieff and Conservative Prime Minister Stephen Harper when Ignatieff announced the Liberal-Bloc-NDP coalition's vote of no confidence in Harper, kick-starting yet another federal election. The personal significance such an experience posed to me still makes me smile with excitement and thankfulness in having seized the opportunity.

I also did much exploring while skipping a day at the TYPS (Town Youth Participation Strategies) Conference I was attending. Although I felt bad for having upset my adult facilitator, I don't regret having ditched, as it was only for about 10 hours, and I wouldn't have seen the no confidence vote in person had I not. We made quick amends once I returned.

While exploring, I checked out the Supreme Court of Canada, the National Archives (both of which I didn't get very far in, as security informed me neither were open to the public, save for the occasional guided tour through the Supreme Court), and the Canadian Museum of War.

The cold of Ottawa is incredibly biting, and made for serious discomfort for any important part of the body that is uncovered to the icy wind. Not understanding the city's transit system very well led to many early stops and many cold walks on the only day I managed to escape.

For the next 3 days, I stuck around at the conference, and met many incredible people, connecting with each of them in some way, shape, or form that I knew was meaningful on both ends. They were people from all walks of life, of every race, creed, ethnicity and religion, and the diversity was fantastic.

I miss each and every one of them, and wish the conference could have been longer... perhaps I will attend next year, and perhaps my potential prodding will cause it to last 10 days.

That'd be incredible.

Good Ol' Capital City

I write to you from the one and only hub of federal and international politics north of the United States (and east of Alaska, just to be fair); the very level and flat, 1900's-esque capital of Canada: Ottawa, Ontario.

On the way in from the Ottawa airport, we were greeted by old brick houses with dilapidated and dug-up gardens obviously ravaged by the cold of the preceding winter, and many very serious-looking men in suits with razor sharp glares, probably en route to something politically-related. Or, perhaps, economically related.

To be completely honest, the city itself is not all that impressive so far, but I may be speaking too soon, as it's the dead of night and the farthest I've been permitted to go outside of this hotel is a Shoppers Drug Mart a block away.

I am excited, however, with the fact that we arrived in the capital during a very volatile political circumstance, in which a Liberal-NDP coalition is about to hand out a vote of no confidence to Stephen Harper and his administration on Friday. Perhaps complete anarchy will soon reign in the streets as Harper cracks down on protests and dissidents. Perhaps not... but that'd still be pretty cool.

Tomorrow morning, bright and early, we are going to gather en masse at Parliament Hill and "Unite and Ignite," as the Youth leaders say.

I'm going to get some shut-eye.

The Free-Mind Articles, Part 1: The Deceptions of Society

Society, by definition, is "an abstraction of a collection of relationships between individuals, usually including distinctive cultural, economic, or political properties [that] vary greatly in complexity and scope."

So, by definition, 'society' is a product of a collective consciousness that exists only inside the mind of human beings, which exerts its physical existence and influence via a default collective recognition of said consciousness's authority over the individual. Even those that claim themselves to be 'rebels' or 'revolutionaries' find themselves under much mental duress in attempting to resist the overwhelming scope of influence that any given society exerts on the external world, and any rebellious individual will find themselves being forced to contradict themselves from time to time in order to counter said influence, otherwise they risk losing their mind to what they see as a depressing conformity (depending on what society it just so happens to be).

Society is, by its very definition, one very large illusion that plays into the minds of every living and breathing human being during every second of every minutes of every single day, regardless of whether it is desired or not. But does its being an illusion make it, also, a deception?

Not necessarily, no. But due to its very nature as an illusion, the addition or subtraction of its key ideals is not only a usual occurrence (at least in the developed world), it is almost expected, in some sense.

During the many heyday's of the Roman Empire, democracy was ousted, re-instated, ousted, and re-instated, and ousted and reinstated almost in a continual cycle. If a society was truly consistent in its existence, than either one or the other should have stuck with the Empire for the duration of its reign over a large chunk of Eurasia... but humans do not work in any consistent manner for very long, so neither does the endless cycle of oppression and liberation.

One might see 'oppression' and 'liberation' as a weighing of good versus evil, and in the sense that 'oppression' is defined as "the act of subjugating by cruelty," such a black-and-white view of the words definition being attributed to the entire reality of what did indeed occur historically would be well-placed; but the truth is much wider and more diverse than the word may suggest.

Yes, the 'act of subjugating by cruelty' seems an obvious breach of morally acceptable conduct, but why is it that cruelty cannot be ruled out as necessary at times? Sure, some oppressive rulers or styles of government have only maintained power for the sake of power itself, but others have taken power and maintained it by reason of assisting what they see as the 'greater good,' whether for benefit of their ethnicity, creed, religion, ideology, country, or even the world, they were sure they were doing what was right.

Now, what sort of deceptive illusions could drive these oppressive agents of change to act against things like democracy? Pure misinterpretation? Maybe; but like the rest of society, it was a misinterpretation that was widely shared, or was at least successfully imposed during the process of further oppression.

And who is to say one cannot be oppressed by pleasure and distraction? Wouldn't deliberately attempting to avert your attention away from the reality of what may be occurring within a given society be 'subjugating by act of cruelty' in the sense that they simply want you to look in the other direction as so they can get away with that they're fully aware is not socially acceptable, or wish to condition you to the point where it either comes to look like or becomes socially acceptable? I would certainly say so; although, to be honest, I would prefer the latter over the former.

The idea of what is 'obviously' right or wrong also plays into our views on society. Is 'liberation' an entirely good thing? Maybe I used the wrong word in 'liberation,' as its definition is not so broad; or perhaps is, in some sense, much broader than the alternative words I could have used, being defined as "the act of liberating someone or something ." But from what?

People see it as such a positive word, yet it can be just as negative as 'oppression,' or even be used alongside 'oppression' under the proper circumstances. For example: it is technically true that the Nazi's, during the Second World War, liberated the Dutch from the Dutch, and the Belgians from the Belgians, and placed them under the oppressive rule of Germany.

Despite how self-contradicting that sentence may be, it is true. The Germans did indeed liberate the Dutch and Belgians from themselves, did they not? But in doing so, they had to oppress them. In the same way, in the endless cycle of oppression and liberation, the Romans, many times over, liberated themselves from themselves. This went both ways, however.

When an oppressive Emperor abolished the senate and set-up and totalitarian style of government, he was, in a sense, liberating the Roman people from the Roman people; and when the Roman people decided to revolt and remove said Emperor from office, they too were liberating the Roman people from the Roman people.

Perhaps I am generalizing, but I am proving something in showing how the use of language dictates everything. I could have portrayed it all as positive or negative, and perhaps caused you to walk away with a positive or negative view on any of the above; but I decided to take the middle-ground by making use of self-contradiction, and using the technicalities in definition and meaning to make my point clear or cloudy. In this way, have I not made a point about society? All it is, is an interpretation. You do, indeed, delude yourself in saying it exists, but you would also be deluding yourself in saying it doesn't.

There is no such thing as a 'universal truth.'

Optimistically Realistic

He was never far away;
And the last to ever say he was gone
Was the same who could stutter brains and brawn away in the skylight.

The city is bigger and pretty,
Prettier aesthetically in his brain,
Where the pretty place he remains is driving him insane,
Can you blame him?

He called it, in the end,
He even said it was around the bend,
Yet as a friend to himself he threw out a hand to lend
In verbal assistance.

He feels the grease caress his fingers,
As the smell of sadness lingers,
In his mind from a past mistake he did partake upon himself to rightfully correct.

He is hauling himself from Hell,
Smacked straight in the face by the sale of his emotions to sadness,
He is buying back his shares,
Because he cares.

He was never one to trust complete optimism;
In fact he felt like optimism was simply one side of a schism,
That would take 1 step forward,
Only to end-up 2 steps back, and off-track.

Maybe it's his misuse of the art;
But logic and realism are a part of his mind he can't silence.

He believes himself to be,
Optimistically realistic;
One who will not deny life's hardships a good cry,
But will strive to try in making things better using the side that's much brighter,
And lighter.

He is a fighter who looks not to fight,
But to do right, and live life,
Beyond his work as a writer.

Cooperation Council for the Arab States of the Gulf

Also known, in brief, as the GCC, is an interdependent co-operative organization that encompasses most of the countries surrounding the Persian Gulf: Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates (with Yemen in negotiations regarding membership).

For the past 3 months, protest, violence, and all-out revolution has been sweeping across North Africa and the Middle East, deposing of dictatorial and/or totalitarian regimes. Said revolutions successfully toppled the Tunisian 'Presidential' dictatorship of Zine El Abidine Ben Ali and led to the dissolution of his former ruling party and style of government. This was soon followed by revolution in Egypt, which (in a generally peaceful context) successfully ousted the dictator, President Hosni Mubarak, and led to a more gradual dissolution of his former government than occurred in Tunisia. This then led to protests in Libya, which quickly led to armed revolt in the face of attempts at violently silencing the opposition. The armed revolt soon led to all-out revolution and the formation of a new Libyan government in the rebel-controlled east, known as the National Transitional Council, which continues in its struggle against Moammar al-Gaddafi and his hired mercenary armies to this day, looking to depose the megalomaniac dictator from his position of power. If I was stuck in Libya right now, I think I would look to fight alongside the rebels.

Anyways, returning to the GCC, serious protests also broke-out in the small Gulf country of Bahrain, which is ruled by an absolute monarchy. The protests, however, did not blow-up into a full-fledged attempt at revolution until the Bahrainian military decided to raid a protesters camp late at night while everyone was asleep, or completely off-guard (and, unarmed, I may add). How many protesters that they killed is unclear to me, but they killed quite a few. This is what led to the protesters demanding the overthrow of the monarchy, and an end to the human rights abuses they continue to suffer to this day.

It is understandable, then, that the protests grew in size, prominence, courage, and power, as they began to stand their ground despite the use of rubber bullets and live ammo, only dispersing for the sake of self-preservation.

So, in the spirit of 'good friendship,' the Bahrainian government asked for military assistance in putting down the protests from the GCC, and received it. As such, a multinational task force of regional soldiers arrived in Bahrain, alongside 1,000 Saudi troops. The arrival of these foreign soldiers has been viewed by much of the Bahrainian population as foreign invasion, and will probably strengthen opposition to the monarchy, as opposed to weaken it. I hope the people of Bahrain can get their hands on proper weapons, for their sake. I also hope they're not afraid to use any weapons they do receive.

The GCC is committing a blatantly immoral act. If the world does not see their intervention in the domestic affairs of Bahrain as a criminal act, I hope they at least see the fact that they are there to put-down unarmed protests using force of arms as blatantly evil, because that is exactly what it is... denying the people the freedom they demand. Not only that, it is killing innocent, freedom-loving people, who want nothing more than to be rid of oppression.

I hope that, one day, the beleaguered people of the Middle East and North Africa will be able to look on in satisfaction as they watch their former 'leaders' be carted-off to jail for the rest of their lives... or hung to death.

Viva la Revolución!

Emotional Consistency

It's something some people have a serious issue with... whether it's due to manic depression, bipolar disorder, or simply just who they happen to be... some people are able to simply switch from one radical emotion to the next, given the proper circumstances.

I believe everyone is capable of it, in some regard; but some people simply prefer the alternative, it gives them a control over themselves they would not possess otherwise. I can definitely see the appeal, and in some circumstances, I wish I was able to switch back-and-forth between emotions on the spot, but luckily (in my opinion), I possess a strong sense of emotional consistency. I believe possessing such a trait plays a large part in leading a generally happy and fulfilling life, and I'll tell you why.

A healthy sense of emotional consistency causes you to say less of what you don't mean, or what you soon won't mean. When I'm in love with someone, I am in love with them regardless of certain misfortunes that may occur, and I prefer to say that I love someone, and mean it 2 weeks to a month, or even a year and a half later, as much as I did the first time around, regardless of what may have occurred. This does not bar me from removing 'undesirable' people from my life, although it does mean it takes one hell of a lot on someone else's part to become what I see as an undesirable person. In the event that I did indeed remove someone from my life, like a friend whose gone rouge in being pointlessly hurtful, or has become a bully of some sort, if I had told them I loved them as a friend, I would still mean that for at least a couple months, until those feelings faded from my life alongside they, themselves. Either that, or they committed an unforgivable deed against myself, or someone else... in which case, not only would they be expelled from my life, they would lose the respect and love I once had for them. This could also occur with a 'forgivable' deed; the difference being what was suggested, that it is forgivable, and if said person proves themselves, they could potentially regain my love and respect for them.

I find people who lack emotional consistency, whether of their own accord or not, to possess a default aura of untrustworthiness, at least when it comes to being very good friends or romantic partners with them. In more of a distant sense, they are just as trustworthy as anyone else. The problem with them is that they lack the same respect I and other emotionally consistent individuals possess regarding matters of the heart, as they are, or would prefer to be transitory in those regards.

People who lack emotional consistency also lack the ability to differentiate between what they mean at a given moment from what they mean in a general sense. I have trained myself to differentiate between the two, and only say what I know I'll mean 2 to 4 months from the day I said it.

Yes, a sense of emotional consistency does indeed lead to sadness sticking around a bit longer, but it also leads to happiness sticking around for much longer as well, and with the right tools in hand, it is easy to pull ones self out of a bought of sadness, and into the ever-flowing current of happiness; just don't expect instant gratification, like those who lack this trait. It is a given that those who possess emotional consistency are stronger, in that sense, than those that live at the whim of their radical emotions, second by second. Some enjoy such a life, while others search for ways around it. For those who are looking for the alternative, I sincerely hope you find it.

A Series of Upcoming Articles is Soon to be Released

Way back in August of last year, I announced that I was going to write a series of philosophical articles. I never got around to that, but I think I will. I am going to take the liberty, however, of warning you all that I will finish them all, but within no set time frame, nor will they be in the following order. I will promise, however, that at least two of them will be up by the end of the month. They are as follows:

The Reality and Illusions of Reality,

Old-world Morals,

The Reality and Illusions of Dreams, Visions, and Memories,

Individual Outlooks on the World and the Universe,

The Existence/ Extent of Free-Will,

The Deceptions of Society,

The Role of Emotions,

The Requirement/ Use of Structure,

Life prior to Life,

Life after Death,

Personal Relationships,

Impersonal Relationships,

The Existence of Alternate States of Reality,

The Existence of Alternate States of Existence,

Natural Precognition,

The Existence of a Spirit or Soul,

And last, but not least: Existence Beyond the Human Mind.

An Ephemeral Update

Well, I thought I would just give everyone a quick update on how I've been doing, and what I've been up too.

This week has been quite mixed, but I would have to say it has been quite incredible in many ways. Mixed, more-so because my ex-girlfriend suddenly decided she did not wish to be my friend as I am an 'unhealthy' person in her life, whom she is better without. What caused the post-romance powder-keg to explode was my refusing to remove a blog-post I wrote-up on my feelings on the whole situation about a week or so ago that streamed directly to Facebook. I deleted it from the news-feed, as yes, I did not want it to be flaunted... but the only people that were going to look for it in my notes are the same people that would read my blog, and therefore, there was no serious problem... but her side of the argument was that I said too many personal things relating to her in the post, and although she didn't mind it on my blog, she thought it was an invasion of her privacy if released on Facebook. It's not that I didn't see her point... it's that I disagreed with it, and privacy is an issue she is hypersensitive about. She then proceeded to dump me as a friend and a Grad walking partner (which wasn't a huge issue at all, as I already had a few girls asking, yet had rejected due to believing I was going with her... but when she did decide to ditch me on walking, it didn't take me very long to find a new walking partner), and followed it up by deleting me from Facebook.

Sure, I did indeed make my mistakes, and it is hard to be friends with an ex, especially immediately following the break-up... but if she really thought of me as an 'unhealthy' person, and still holds an ill opinion of me, I honestly don't feel the need to care. I do think it's best we aren't friends for now, as so we can properly get over each other, as well as get over how we changed during the relationship for or because of the relationship, but I'd think it pretty shallow and petty if she decided to bar us from ever being friends again.

But yes, as I said, a break is appreciated, that's for sure. Friendship immediately after a break-up is close to, if not impossible, I've found.

Aside from all that jazz, I finished my latest short story, And the Angel Never Said Hello, for those of you who took the liberty of reading it. I think it's probably one of my best works, and I am contemplating a follow-up story as to further illustrate the prominence of injustice in the modern world, and how the main character, Dante, attempts to stand-up to said injustice. I would also like to delve, once again, into human misinterpretations of karma, as was illustrated in Dante's incarceration for accidentally killing a murderer.

Anyways, I should probably head out and continue packing for my trip tomorrow, in which I'm departing to Vancouver with my mom and brother for 10 days (until the 20th of March), as to visit with family and friends in the area. I will also be driving for a majority of the trip, which is a first for me, and that should be an interesting first experience.

Peace out, blue planet, and have a great Spring Break!

And the Angel Never Said Hello: A Short Story

Dante watched the sky as it parted above his head; the slow dribble of snow flakes flitting like dandruff from the matching white of the pale clouds.
His eyes narrowed due to the overwhelming brightness of the sky, he drew his breath, inhaling the freezing air which coldly dried the back of his throat. Looking downwards once again, Dante scanned the parking lot for his bus.

Sniffling, he double-checked his hood was on, and stuck his hands in his pockets while he waited, watching people as they entered and exited the mall behind him, and watching others as they coldly and indifferently departed from the parking buses beside him.

Anxiously, he waited, checking his watch a couple times to make sure he hadn't got his timing wrong. Finally giving in to the faith that it would show up eventually, Dante began to concentrate on different individuals within the constantly dispersing crowds that disappeared and reappeared after intervals of 30 seconds. Intently spectating, someone caught his eye.
It was a woman. The first thing that became crudely apparent to him was the large, blue bruise on the left side of her face which looked a bit cut and infected as unnaturally hardened veins protruded from its surface, as if frozen away from the rest of her body. The next thing that became obvious to Dante was her eyes, flickering back and forth nervously from person to person as she limped her way towards the main area of the parking lot with 2 bags of groceries in each hand.

Shocked and curious, Dante jogged to catch up with her as she walked past the bus station and towards the army of parked cars beyond it.
"Hey!" he hollered in a moderate tone.
She didn't notice, or neglected to notice. Either way, Dante wasn't sure, so he pressed on through the flowing crowd and towards her.
"Hey! Excuse me, ma'am!" He said again, waving his right arm this time in a bid to grab her attention. Still, she nervously continued limping away in the opposite direction. He noticed she was headed towards a grey, canopied truck just ahead of her, and quickly made that his destination, hoping to cut her off.

Sprinting now, he finally got in front of her, and watched with some alarm as her worried eyes panned over him with fear and questioning.
"Hello, ma'am... you look severely injured. I was concerned. Are you alright?"
The woman simply stood there, staring at him. The bruise seemed to become more and more pronounced as the seconds ticked by.
"Ma'am?" Dante continued, waiting for her reply.
"I'm... I'm fine." She said slowly. Lifting her shoulders higher in a failed attempt to assert an image of strength, she briskly limped past him, piled her groceries into the back of her truck, climbed into the front, and drove away whilst not looking back once at the befuddled young man she had brushed off so callously.

Taken off-guard by her indifference, Dante stood there for a moment in confusion.
Suddenly, he remembered his bus. Turning to look back towards the bus station, he watched as number 7A began to depart. Instead of sprinting to catch up with it, he resigned to the fact that he had missed it, and took his time in walking back to the area to grab his backpack, which remained untouched on top of a bench.
Hoisting it over his shoulder, he walked towards the closest available ticket vendor.
"When is the next bus running route 7A due to appear?" He asked.
"It just left." the ticket man said briskly, not even bothering to look up from the open register to see who it was he was talking too.
"Well, I know that. I missed it. Would you happen to know when it will show up again?"
"Probably not at all again tonight. There's been a snow fall warning. Some heavy winds blowing in from the south are supposed to bring us a blizzard."
"Fuck. Are you serious?"
"Afraid so, sir. On behalf of the Anzac Transit Administration, I apologize for any inconvenience."
"Fuck." Dante cursed again, this time under his breath. Without saying goodbye, he turned around and began walking in the direction of his home, several kilometers away.
He resolved to make it back before nightfall, which meant within the next 3 hours.

As he trudged through the slowly accumulating patches of snow on the city streets, he began to zone out on the thought of the bruised lady he had encountered. What had happened to her? Had she been beaten by an abusive spouse? Maybe mugged, or just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time during a stick-up? Had she fallen?
He deducted and processed all the possible circumstances and situations inside of his head, yet in the end, could eliminate none of his original possibilities, leaving the question as open as it had been when he had started.

Finally, after 2 hours of walking non-stop, Dante arrived at the apartment complex in which he took residence with his two best friends, Leo and James. After the short elevator trip and another short march down the hallway to apartment 65C, he pushed his key into the lock, and pulled the door open. Most of the lights inside were off, or dimmed, he noticed, and as he walked to the kitchen, he could hear the hum of the surround sound TV blasting away in the living room. Walking towards it, he saw Leo take notice of his arrival and signal James to mute the television for a moment.
"Dude, where were you?" Leo chuckled.
"Missed my bus." Dante replied.
"Well, you also missed about half of Gladiator as well." James pitched in, wheeling around in his seat to face him.
"Ha. Whatever. I've seen it plenty of times on the History Channel."
"Yeah, but it never gets old." James said softly.
"Whatever." Dante replied once again, his mind still fixated elsewhere, on the poor, beaten women he had encountered.

* * *
Dante sipped carefully at his cup of coffee, as to be sure it wouldn't singe his tongue. Pleasantly surprised, he found the hot beverage to be at the perfect temperature, and relaxed blissfully as its silky texture washed its way down his throat. Leaning in as so he could hear what was on the television over the sound of James and Leo arguing as to the whereabouts of Leo's backpack, he heard news of an interim government gaining office in Libya, and something else about protesters in Bahrain being fired on by government soldiers.
"This world is going somewhere, and I'm not sure where." he mumbled to himself.
"In other, more local news," the anchor interrupted, cutting short a video of the protests in the Middle East, "the body of an unidentified 37 year old woman was found discarded in a dumpster early this morning at around 1 AM by city police." his curiosity peaked, Dante turned to Leo and James and said, "Shut up for one second! I'm trying to listen to this!"
"Aw, Dante, fuck you! Help us find Leo's backpack so he shuts the hell up! I'm already late for my first class!" James replied stoutly.
"Shhh, for one moment, please!" Dante shot back dismissively, quickly returning his attention to the television screen.
"... had been strangled and beaten quite brutally. Evidence suggests she had been beaten numerous times prior to her death. Police are unsure as to what exactly caused her to finally pass away, as it appears that the possibilities range from her strangling, to her being beaten, to her being stabbed and shot." with these final graphic words, a picture appeared on the screen of the woman, and Dante felt the air inside his lungs cease circulation for a moment as he immediately recognized her as the same woman he had run into 6 days prior... the only differences being that she lacked her bruise or her aura of stiff defeatism.
"This particular photo of the victim was found inside her wallet, and appears to be the only lead on her identity at this time, as all other possible identification was missing from the scene. If you have any ideas as to the identity of this woman, or the whereabouts of her next of kin, please contact the local police department at 1-649-552-7763."
"You ready to go yet, Dante?" Leo asked.
"Uh, yeah. Sorry. Did you find your backpack?"
"No. I'll suffice with a plastic bag for today, and mooch a textbook off of the professors." Leo chuckled half-heartedly.
"Oh. Well, alright... let's go, then."
Dante's mind was racing with confusion and fear that seemed unable to escape. All he could think about was the woman, and how he could have done more to help her.
What had happened? What the fuck had happened?

* * *

"It's a strange act, isn't it?" Arthur Broderic heard the voice say voicelessly, from the back of his mind.
"What is?" He asked, already aware.
"The act of murder and degradation, Arthur! Surely you have not forgotten? In fact, I know you have not forgotten." the voice replied mysteriously.
"You made me do it! I didn't do it! I didn't do it!" Arthur screamed, grasping at his face with the palms of his hands.
"You didn't do it? Arthur, please. You are just as implicit in the barbarism as I am."
"You took her from me, you sick fuck! You took her from me!"
He stopped for a moment to gasp for air, and pulled his hands away from his face slowly as to survey his surroundings.
"Are you ok, mister?" a young black boy asked.
He couldn't be any older than 11, and he stood there in his empathic ignorance with a naive fearlessness, marked-off with a look of bold intention from within the gleam of his left eye.
"You get away from me, child!" Arthur yelled in caution.
"You get away from me now!"
The boy winced slightly, yet remained where he was, staring up at Arthur with a modest indifference.
"I asked if you were ok." the boy continued.
"I'm fine as can be. I'm as fucking dandy as a field of dandelions! Does that answer your fucking question?" Arthur shot back, violently jerking his face closer to that of the child's.
"No." the boy croaked.
"Well then, I have no answer, or perhaps, my answer is I don't know. Usually, I don't know implies ones position eases off in the direction of 'no,' would you agree?"
Arthur's counter-question was met with a friendly, yet oddly cold blank-stare.

"Mister, I don't know what you're talking about. Are you ok?"

"Aaaaaaaarrgh!" Arthur groaned, almost screaming. The boy backed-off even further.

In a storm of guilty frustration, Arthur spun on his heel and walked away from the alleyway and towards the open city street. All of a sudden, a frightening state of conscious illusion overtook his mind as everything began to take on the appearance of vibration. It was as if he was seeing through the veil of reality, able to perceive the rapid unstillness of the world on the subatomic level. The street ahead of him seemed to be getting further away every step he took, and an increasingly frightened Arthur quickly transitioned into jogging, and then running, and then sprinting, yet it seemed to no avail as the street came too look like it were being viewed through the wrong-end of a telescope.

* * *

"Dante, you're gonna have to drive just a bit faster than that if I'm going to make it to class at all," James chided.

"James, shut up. We'll get there, but I don't much feel like breaking the law," Dante shot back.

Leo sat in awkward silence, obviously feeling guilt in having brought about the argument.

"Look, my mid-term paper is due today! I have to get there, and I have to get there now!"

Dante ignored James's reply, frowning in frustrated concentration as he attempted to pay attention to nothing more than the road.

"For God sakes, Dante! Fucking drive!"

"Will you shut up? I'm not going to break the law!" He said, turning around for a split-second to look James in the eye. During that split-second he heard Leo yelp is fear, and turned around just in time to notice a man darting out in front of the car, but not in time to stop.

Dante pressed the break pedal as hard as he could as the man slammed hard into the bumper, cracking the windshield and barreling-off the backside of the vehicle and face-first onto the pavement. The abrupt stop caused the back-end of the car to lurch to the left and the right, sending Leo's head to slam into a window like a helpless rag-doll.

Finally, the car came to a complete halt. Dante blinked a couple of times in shock, attempting to comprehend what had just occurred. Looking to the right of him, he saw Leo slumped forward, completely unconscious, and hopefully not dead. Peaking behind him, he saw Jame's lift his head up from within his curled arms, looking Dante in the eyes and communicating to him, wordlessly, a feeling of confused trauma.

Dante turned back to Leo and shook him.

"Leo. Leo!" he said, yet there was no reply. Leo simply slouched even further into his seat.

"James, stay here. Take care of Leo. I'm going to find help and call an ambulance."

James nodded in acknowledgement, and moved forwards to inspect his friend as Dante exited the car.

"What the fuck just happened?" a middle-aged man standing next to his parked truck asked.

"I... I don't know. Can you call the police? Fire department? Ambulance? 911?" Dante replied.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not it... holy shit." he heard him murmur quietly as he took out his cellphone from his pocket and began to dial.

There was a small crowd gathered near the center of the street, and Dante already knew what it was they were looking at. He jogged towards them, a feeling of desperate and cold fear quickly building up inside of him as he felt hot tears begin to make their way to his eyes.

"Move," he said, pushing through a group of shocked older women, "move!"

He knelt down on one knee, and looked with growing desperation at the lifeless body in front of him, sprawled out awkwardly on the pavement.

"Someone call an ambulance! We need a God-damned ambulance! Someone call an ambulance!" Dante screamed, tears streaming from his eyes as he looked at the faces of disgusted horror who seemed to be judging him more and more as the seconds ticked by.

"I already have, kid! They're on their way." The middle-aged man burst in, appearing between two shocked-looking young men who couldn't be much older than Dante himself.

All of a sudden, the sounds of sirens became apparent in the distance, progressively growing louder and louder as more seconds passed. The first authority to arrive was a city squad car, screeching to a halt next to the middle-aged mans truck.

"Please! We're going to ask everyone to take a few steps back!" The first officer out announced. The crowd did as they were told, and began to disperse into the slowly accumulating larger crowd now lined-up on the sidewalks. The mans body was now blatantly visible to all, an officer knelt down to check his pulse.

"He's dead." the officer sighed.

Dante began to sob uncontrollably as guilt washed over him, and his vision became so obscured from the tears, he hardly noticed one of the officers approaching him.

"Are you the driver of the vehicle responsible?" he asked.

"Yes, yes!" Dante sobbed.

"Are there any more injured persons on the scene?"

"Yes! My friend Leo! He's in the car, and he- he's been knocked unconscious! He needs a paramedic!"

"Stay right here, I'll be right back." the officer said, jogging towards the car.

Dante didn't bother to watch him as he went. Instead, he slouched to the ground and began to sob even harder.

When he finally decided to lift his face from his arms, he saw the police officer and James carefully carrying Leo's unconscious body towards a group of stationed paramedics.

As they placed him carefully on a stretcher, he watched and waited intently as one of the medics checked his pulse.

"He's alive, but his heart-beat has slowed. We need to get him to the ER asap."

A small part of Dante sighed in relief, while another part became overwhelmed with further guilt.

"Excuse me, sir." a police officer standing next to him said. Dante looked up.

"You need to come with me, we're going to bring you in for questioning." he continued, holding out his hand. Dante grasped it and hoisted himself upwards just in-time to see the paramedics placing the dead man on a stretcher and covering him with what looked to be a white sheet.

He quickly tore his eyes away.

* * *

"We've talked to your friends, and they can't seem to get their stories straight," the interrogator said, looking Dante solemnly in the eyes.

"Well, of course Leo can't! He probably doesn't remember anything, he's had his brain whacked around inside his skull!" Dante replied.

"It's sad you take such a stance, as Leo was the one defending you, despite the fact he can't seem to stick with a single story for more than an hour at a time."

What? Dante thought, Defending me? Why do I need defending?

"What are you talking about? It was an accident! I don't need to be defended!"

"You're entirely right, Dante. It was an accident, but it depends from where the accident stems which determines if you need to defend yourself or not. It seems your friend James has placed all responsibility for what occurred on you, and you have been charged by both him, as well as the state, with criminal negligence."

"What the fuck?" Dante screamed, "James was the one who was harassing me as we drove! He was late to hand in his mid-term paper or some shit, so he was trying to get me to speed!"

The interrogator looked down and jotted something into his notes.

"You have 2 choices at this point, Dante."

Fuming inside with anger and hatred towards James, Dante listened.

"1: you can decide to skip the court proceedings by pleading guilty, in which case you will be put in federal prison for several months... or 2: you can plead innocent, go on trial, and prove beyond a doubt your guiltlessness in this situation. But do note: if you decide to go to court, and lose your case for innocence, you could be put away for as long as 2 years or more for what you did." Dante wished more than anything that he could simply get away with lunging at the interrogator and beating him until he was unconscious.

Quickly, his anger transitioned into a defeatist and desperate sadness. He knew Leo could not properly defend him, and James would selfishly claim no part in what had occurred. James had always been like that; selfish and arrogant.

Tears beginning to stream down his face as he clenched at his chairs arm-rests to the point that circulation to his fingers ceased, and his knuckles turned white, he looked the interrogator in the eyes and said, desperately, "I plead guilty on all counts."

Things I Learned Today

I am an avidly creative worker when I listen to ambient music.

People really appreciate my talents.

Actions speak much louder than words, and many people neglect to acknowledge this.

Even a rainy day can be an incredibly good day.

Accomplishment is not born of how much you produce, but by what you produce.

Arrogance is the most annoying trait one can have.

Through thick and thin, living is incredible.

Even sadness and frustration are beautiful emotions.

People like to pointlessly waste their time on pointless pleasures and pursuits for pointless reasons. That is why the world is still broken, and that is why the world will always be broken.

The world is broken, yet beautiful.

And last but not least, it is very easy to anger a hypocrite.

Misogynistic

Last night, I made a rather offensive yet innocent mistake.

A good friend of mine posted an article about a Manitoba judge who used the old and infamous 'nuts-and-sluts' argument in a rape case, blaming the victims more-so than the rapist himself. The rapist, in fact, got off without jail time in the end, and is free to roam the streets and make the same 'mistake' twice.

Anyways, I commented on the article without reading the article. All I read was the blurb of text that my friend posted above it... and even that, I only read up to the point where the judge used the fact that the women wore 'plenty of make-up, no bras, and high-heels' as the excuses for why the rapist may have been confused as to what the victims wanted (I think he would notice pretty quickly, would he not?)

Without actually delving into it, I saw the part regarding 'no bras,' and assumed that meant there must have been a point where they really did over-expose themselves, and commented that the rapist should be put away, and that I hoped the girls learned there lesson to be careful in taking risks like that again. My friend responded in-kind, saying she was 'ashamed' that I could say something so 'narrow-minded and conservative,' and said I was blaming the victims. She also called me an asshole for saying so, and although I saw her point, I immediately saw she took it far out of context. Taking the defensive stance, not because I was defending what she thought I was arguing for, but because I was trying to make the point that she took it out of context, and that I am not an asshole in any way, shape, or form... her mother jumped in, and apparently took from the whole conversation that I must be a misogynistic asshole who supports the 'nuts-and-sluts' argument whole-heartedly.

Rather insulted, I continued to try and make my point despite my friends automatic anger.

She began accusing me of simply altering my argument once I saw it wasn't going my way, which insulted me even further, as I was slightly embarrassed for what I said due to my overall ignorance on the matter, but I was just as annoyed that she had decided to take it so grossly out of context, especially considering she knows me so well.

I finally made my point clear, amidst her continued accusations that I wasn't making any sense, and that it seemed obvious that I was lying know to appease her (which really annoyed me, as it wasn't true... I was stating what I thought she would have seen through the entire argument, but either neglected to notice, or simply did not notice).

I commented on it later after reading most of the article, after my friend had deleted all of my comments (apparently, 'for my own sake,' as I was the one who made such a grave and narrow-minded mistake), and I felt I was legitimately commenting on it, yet was careful as so she didn't misinterpret it as my appeasing her (once again).

I dislike it when people believe they know better than you that you made a mistake, yet they make an even larger mistake in not taking the time to re-interpret my 'mistake' from a different angle, and attempt to see it from said angle, instead of simply demonizing it as 'sick and wrong,' and drawing the completely wrong picture of it from me whilst letting someone else do the same.

Some people complain about not being taken seriously. I think my problem is that I'm taken too seriously at times.