Fragments

All of the things below are fragments of thoughts and ideas I had started at some point and just didn’t finish.


It’s been a really difficult year for me.  And there really aren’t too many people left to talk about it with.


Either way, no one ever reads this.


—-

Adrift


I seemed to have dazed off or perhaps I phased out.  I don’t really know.  This place defies the simplicity of being alive with all of its nuanced ironies.


I was still on this semi purgatory state of existence; if I could even call it that.


The essence of ‘me’ was still in the grove of the Holy Man.  He was nowhere to be seen at the moment.


But i sensed something changed.  It was a strange feeling like I slipped back in time and back into my flesh to replay some series of events.  It could kind of felt like i lost at a video game and i had to respawn and replay a few quests again to get back to where i was.


Even as i thought that I could hear the echo in my head of how utterly stupid that sounded after all iI had been through.


I was lost again and I could hear my own voice in my head screaming out.



—-


Endless Dream


‘It’s all coming back to me now.  That strange and almost endless dream...’


Who was singing this to me.  Who was she.  I could conjure and image for the briefest moments, and it faded.


Where was I today?  What was a day...


There were so many, and there were none.  


And with that, I was to know myself.


I had created illusions, I couldn’t literally or figuratively ascertain where I started or where they ended.  And they were there, in the quiet.  The peace of not knowing was a greater savior than I had before.


Did I belong?


Will I find that comfort ever again, or is it the Endless Dream?


In a weightless moment I saw it all.  


I could never go back, that was the hardest lesson to realize.


I wasn't afraid.  I was alone.  The design we create was a cruel bitch at times. 


My friend in the prior life would have told me about choices and consequences.  Or perhaps she believed that the Riders of Rohan were real.  Perhaps they were.  Who was I again; Farmir, she said with some level of excitement.


But I had been falling from the world for so long, I was thinking, I was someone else.


I wasn’t. 


Perhaps this was a trip from my imagination, or it was Peru. Did it matter?


I don’t recall, why was that?


To know love, to feel love, was all a factor of fear; it was shapeless, it was a changing cloud.


The grove of the Holy Man had dimmed in the prior six months; whatever a month was now, I don’t recall; did I ever?


I forgot why the flesh was poison.  I just forgot so many things


I forgot why thoughts were the Mind Killer, I was embraced in fear.


Change was inevitable.  I had to see that.


But gravity pulled me into the quiet. The desolate and the darkness 


And this is the trip we are on. 


Forever, to be encircled.


—-


Secrets


I gathered all my secrets (and I don’t know who I am).


I sat there, forever, and imagined this was a line from a song by a band I loved back when I was alive.


And it was. 


So many things that faded away. So many deaths in the suburbs; so many lives that would fade away.


And with al, things, Therein lay the irony.


I was dead, forgotten, alive, and both with schrodegers cat and without.


—-


The seventh day


I had been told forever that god created something on the seventh day, or within seven days or maybe Joe Benson just played a full record of a band I liked on the seventh day on KLOS and my goal was to record that on a cassette before my brother did.


None of it mattered now and quite literally I don’t know why I even had these thoughts.


I had no more days; not here, not there, not anywhere.


For that matter, I had nothing because I was at the point of the nothingness.


Imagine for a moment what life would be like living in an hourglass. But, only at that point where the top part met the bottom part.  


And, for the record, I had forgotten what that actual point was called anymore.


Was that the nexus, or the juxtaposition, or the apex...  Damn, it had slipped away after my mortal demise.


With all that said, none of it changed the situation; in lack of a better term.


I saw that old house, that old place.  


I saw the snow and the palm trees and grapevines of my youth.  


Or, at least I think I did.


Death was far more complicated than they taught us in school


—-

The Elf of East Hampton Bridge

Alt title - Farmour than I will ever be

-this is in very early draft mode-

The story is set in a small fishing in England during World War Two. The village is on the northern part of England on the eastern coast not too far from Scotland. The village has been there for hundreds of years and for the most part hasn’t ever changed. Almost as if time forgot it.

Main characters:

Andrew Wellington a village ‘reclaimer’ and factory bookkeeper who also plays Farmour the Elf and is the same actor that plays Andrew Wellington; David Burrows an American tv star who is completely out of place playing an English character.

Elizabeth Milford a local village resident that longs for a life outside of East Hampton bridge. The actress that plays Elizabeth is named Laura Cook.

Sydney Smyth, the granddaughter of Andrew who is in possession of all of Andrews journals. She is only part of the movie narrative. She has a thing for American actor playing her grandfather. Ultimately she is the only one that knows what really happened to Andrew and Elizabeth and has never told anyone.

Oscar black is the one male friend Elizabeth has that hasn’t gone off to war that she feels confident enough to talk with. He knows he will be drafted and sent off any day so he never really forms a relationship with her. They have known each other for many years. Oscar is uncomplicated and does what he is told without question. He is a simple and kid person.

Location:

The small village of East Hampton by the bridge has a few hundred residents and is been somewhat lost with all that is going on in England during the war. This was once a weekend getaway for well to do Londoners but that ended with World War Two.

All the residents are very English and generally very stoic. Modem time:

Andrew, Elizabeth and all the actual characters in the village have long since passed on in some form or another. The begging of this story is the three main actors talking about the story for the movie they just ended up filming. So the main part of the story isn’t the movie being filmed it’s flashbacks to what the actual people were doing. So the interaction with people exists on a few levels. The actors talking about the characters, the movie of the actors telling the story, the actual story and then the stories that Andrew is telling Elizabeth.

Backstory:

Each day most of the able bodied men that have not shipped off to war and many of the women make the two mile long walk to the factory where they make some (never discussed) item for the war effort. The reason this item is never discussed is that it doesn’t matter, much like their small village, but everyone feels obligated to help and without any tourists there isn’t really anything else they can do. It’s as though the village is stuck in time and never seems to age.

On a very few occasions someone drives through the village on their way to Scotland. And that’s about the extent of anything different that ever happens.

Andrew is the main character and his story and the actor that plays him exist on a few different literary levels. This will be explained later as it is initially rather confusing.

Andrew is officially a bookkeeper at the factory. He isn’t well liked because most of the people in the village think he gets special favors because he appears to only work half days. The locals claim that all Andrew knows how to do is charts and graphs (inside joke).

Andrew wears a white suit that is never dirty. This is by design from the town council to keep his true job hidden. In reality Andrew is the bookkeeper, But he works half days because he is a ‘reclaimer’.

A reclaimer is a person that has to scan the ocean shore; specifically the waterway under the bridge where special nets have been set up to catch debris from ships that have been destroyed or sunk at sea.

Most of the village thinks he stares off into the ocean because he is lazy but it’s really to see what is floating in. Andrew never talks about this to anyone. He does keep a journal of everything he finds as required by the village council.

Every few days he (or one of the other very few remaining reclaimers) see debris floating in or caught in the net and have to take off their white suits and fish out what the ocean has brought up from the sunken ships. A few times a month this means he has to dredge up the dead bodies he finds and hide them from everyone in the village so the locals don’t get to depressed from the reality of the war.

This has a devastating impact on Andrew and all of the Reclaimers. So much so that many of them quit their job and volunteer to go to war instead.

The village council is made up of men too old to go to war or injured from World War One.

They know Andrew is loyal to the country, the crown and the village. They have falsified his medical records so he doesn’t get drafted. Andrew isn’t made aware of this until later and feels torn on what to do. He lives a very lonely life as no one wants to associate with their perception of him being lazy or avoiding the draft.

The things that are reclaimed are usually of no value and are burned in a perpetual fire in the pub that the village council meets. Most of the locals think this is arrogance on the part of the council and don’t understand how devastating it is for the council and Andrew.

When things are reclaimed that can be identified the council sends them back to the family of the victims. Andrew also has to package up and ship the personal effects all over England which makes people believe he has been hoarding wealth from everyone else. Everything that is usable but can’t be identified is sold at the council store to the locals. Realistically, it is given away because the people have somewhat no possessions and no money to begin with.

Andrew specifically reads as many books as he can because it’s his only escape from the horror of being a reclaimer. Andrew at one point picked up an old pipe (think Sherlock Holmes), but he never smokes it. He just carries it around as a prop. Most people misunderstand this.

Elizabeth is younger, blonde and quite good looking. Her father is off to war along with her two brothers. She hasn’t heard from them in a long time and has no way to contact them. Her mother passed away long ago and we don’t really hear much about her. Elizabeth’s only friend is Oscar Black The two of them tend to walk to the factory together often and on occasion chat about things to keep their mind off the depressing nature of their existence.

Elizabeth used to read a lot and has very fond memories of her father telling her stories. She loved the adventure stories and things like Dickens (and fantasy stories, i just can’t think of any at the moment for that period of time, but think Tolkien). She wants to be swept off of her feet and fall in love but has given up since so many men are lost or gone to war. She really doesn’t notice Andrew and if she does she kind of joins the village in ignoring him.

One day after a long shift Elizabeth is walking home and sees Andrew staring out into the ocean at sunset. Out of somewhat spite she stops and asks him in a rather condescending tone what he is doing. Andrew knows he cannot tell her what he really does as a reclaimer so he tells her he is studying the strategy of the submarine maneuvers off of the coast.

She stops not expecting that answer and says where are they. Andrew is taken aback and says, ‘well you can’t actually see them until you are well trained’. She laughs and says ‘what is the name of the submarine you are looking at now’. Andrew replies, ‘well none other than the greatest ship in her majesty’s fleet the HMS Wellington’. Elizabeth lets out a genuine laugh and realizes after a little more chat that Andrew isn’t the bad guy everyone says he is and that he is both funny and creative.

They meet a few more times on the bridge and have some idle conversations. She starts warming up to Andrew because he makes up these stories for her every day and she needs / longs for the escape. Andrew also begins to warm up because he is finally talking with someone else. We also find out that Andrew has made sure to be on the bridge on days when he knows Elizabeth is going to walk by. He has been doing this for months if not longer.

At one point we find out Andrew ‘reclaimed’ an old steamer trunk full of books and at night be dries them out and reads them before giving them to the village council to sell or for them to read. This is important later to know that the village council reads a lot and most of them are amateur writers. They two need an escape from the depression of war. We also find out Andrew can recite the passages from almost any book he has ever read.

One day as Elizabeth approaches the bridge to speak with Andrew another reclaimer is coming out of the water with some very grim findings; the body of a sailor lost at sea. Andrew doesn’t want her to see this for many reasons.

He motions her to hide beneath the bridge wall for a moment and to be silent. He needs to buy some time. So he makes up a story on the fly.

He tells her she most swear secrecy and take an oath of silence to never tell anyone what he is about to say. She agrees.

During this time we see the other reclaimer come out of the water and put a body into a cart and cover it up then he gets dressed in his white suit that is very wet and starts to walk to the village. The other reclaimer is also as equally disliked, but we never meet him.

It’s late enough in the day that we can’t really see a good vision of the reclaimer that just got out of the water. Andrew and Elizabeth get up in time to see this shape walk towards the village.

Andrew tells Elizabeth that is ‘Farmour’ the Elf. He is a prince from a magical kingdom that takes the form of a human to search for treasures.

Elizabeth gives him a strange look and says prove it. Andrew says he can prove it, because Farmour will give him a special hand signal to say he has risen from the elven kingdom to go get a pint at the pub.

The truth is the hand signal is to tell Andrew that the other reclaimer found a body and he needed to dispose of it.

Elizabeth kind of believes Andrew but demands she tell him more of Farmour since she is now sworn to secrecy.

Andrew says he will, but he must tell the council first to prepare the best pint of ale for Farmour as he rarely comes up from the elven kingdoms. Andrew leaves for the night and Elizabeth is finally seen with a smile. We get a strong sense that Elizabeth is becoming happy.

Going forward each day or as often as possible Andrew and Elizabeth meet at the bridge so she can listen to stories of Farmour. They start to warm up to each other as time passes. It is also becoming summer and our normally dark and dreary village is lighting up.

Elizabeth initially only wears dark clothes and has a drab demeanor. As time passes her colors get lighter and her face gets brighter.

Andrew finally starts to feel a little bit alive and not the pariah that he is made out to be.

He begins writing down new stories for Elizabeth each night to tell her the next day. He has to be careful as to never let her see what he really does.

Much later in the story we find out that Andrew wrote four journals. Three of which are Farmour the Elf stories and one of which is the actual inventory of all the things he reclaimed.

This plays out in the end when the actor that plays both Farmour and Andrew is given the never read before, fourth journal and understands the true nature of his character.

Assuming this is a movie, it’s exists on a few levels:

1 - The actors talking about the people they are playing and we find out the actor playing Andrew and Farmour falls in love with the grand daughter of the actual Elizabeth. But never tells the grand daughter about the true nature of the fourth journal.

2 - The story of Andrew and Elizabeth and the village

3 - And the story of Farmour the elf and his adventures acted out from the stories that Andrew made up.

4 - Farmour is an eccentric elf that falls in love with a human woman. He battles with the village council in a fun game of literary quotes while drinking in the pub. This is really a story about Andrew dealing with the village council that he makes into a fantasy to tell Elizabeth stories.

5 - Finally there is a story of Elizabeth pretending that Farmour is sweeping her off her feet until she realizes that she is in love with Andrew.

Remember, Farmour is fictional and he represents a lot of what Andrew wants to be; which is fun, adventurous, creative and ultimately wanted by the village.

In one of the stories that Andrew tells Elizabeth, Farmour goes to the goblin kingdom to bargain for some treasure. The goblins have this game called ‘devil dice’. Six goblins sit at a table and the king is at the head. Each goblin to his left competed with each other to see who can challenge the king. This challenge only happens once a year on the longest day of the year.

Each goblin rolls two six sided dice. The winner says a quote from a book. If the opponent guesses the book he has to reply back with a quote from that same character. If the opponent thinks the first goblin is lying he calls him out. The other goblin then has to prove the quote is real or he loses. If the quote isn’t real, the challenging goblin wins. This goes around until there is one goblin left with the king.

Keep in mind this is based on the actual village council and their sitting around reading books and telling stories while drinking beer (or ale). Andrew loves the stories and loves to talk about books he has read; mostly because no one will talk to him as a ‘reclaimer’.

In the Farmour story one of the tricks of the game is for the king to get all the goblins drunk before anyone can challenge him.

Andrew tells the story about how Farmour figured out to get all the goblins drunk before the king so he could challenge the king and win. Which of course he does. And then he picks the kings daughter as his prize.

This is to illustrate that Andrew wants to be with Elizabeth and he doesn’t know how to tell her this.

Andrew also has stories he tells Elizabeth about adventures he goes on with Farmour. The point being is he wants to make Elizabeth believe he is adventurous and fun so she doesn’t see him as a lazy bookkeeper at factory, and to hide the fact that he is a reclaimer.

There are a lot more stories about Farmour and Andrew has them written in his three journals.

Farmour is kind of a cross between Loki and Thor. He loves to play tricks and outsmart people, not really for the treasure, more for the bragging rights. One rumor is he was kicked out of the elven kingdom for falling in love with a human and he had to bring back the greatest treasure ever to be found to earn his right back into the elven kingdom.

The sappy part of this is that the elven king is teaching a lesson to Farmour that the greatest treasure is true love and that once you have that it doesn’t matter where you live.

This is to parallel with Andrew and his situation.

——-

Things I have to wrap up:

The actors and their story (how they go there, and most importantly what they think about the story)

More on Sydney and the American actor

More on what really happened to Andrew and Elizabeth (I am leaning on Andrew is actually Farmour and once he and Elizabeth fall in love they go to the elven kingdom)

The combination of the time-lines and how it is interspersed with the flashbacks

What really happens to Andrew and Elizabeth (which ultimately makes me want to allow them to become Farmour and Elizabeth).

More on the adventures of Farmour.

Farmour does have an ego and does lose to the goblin king a few times before he figures out not to drink beer while playing devil dice (unrelated to playing poker in Clovis New Mexico, and definitely not related to dungeons and dragons)

More on the village council. It’s these old guys that are probably goblins in human form. More on the granddaughters back story and how that plays out with the actor playing Andrew More on the reclaimers

And in eternity, I shall survive

I sensed that spring, summer, fall and winter had past me by.  The seasons as a whole were no more in this place.


By my perspective nothing had changed.  It was a feeling of longing.  And it was a trap I had to avoid. 


The journey had been so many different things.  And it was the answers that were the prison. I needed to grasp that. Yet I fought it.


A blur at times, some flesh, some sounds, a few images and the pitter patter of kittens running over the furniture and then sleeping on my lap.  I drove for so many miles into the abyss.  What did I choose that route?


The temperature had changed numerous times.  The heat and the cold seemed to be the same thing in retrospect, it was more about what words I used to explain the situation that seemed inconsistent.


I had become accustomed to chaos and liked it a great deal.


Was any of this real?


Perhaps the finality of my earthly passing was haunting me.  I don’t know. 


And, suspect I never would.  


In a way, I was at peace with that, and fighting it the entire time.


I had not moved from the root of this eternally large tree that the holy man motioned for me to sit so long ago.  


It was peace and tranquility.  It was if I was living in a Herman Hesse book.


At times I couldn’t tell if he was with me or not, and I think that was by design.  As for it being his design or another’s, I won’t ever know. And honestly, it doesn’t matter.


I had been traveling to so many places.  Some real and some not so much.


The snow and ice of the altitudes in Colorado and Wyoming I didn’t know existed.  To the red and orange deserts of Utah and Arizona.  On a lake in Kalispell Montana. And eventually to the pit of Las Vegas and all the pleasures it used to bring.  


Thousands of miles and many, many lifetimes ago.  And that was no more.


I was on an island now and there was no escaping it.


It was like being lost but being able to retrace your steps. 


None of that made sense.


I was over thinking. 


Why do I do that?


He had not spoken in more than a year in terms that the living would understand.  But that was not me.  It was not this time and this place.  


I forget so many things.  I have glimpses of anger and of passion and of betrayal and of wonder.  And now they were only glimpses. I used to call this living with Polaroid memories. The kids today won’t get that reference.


For moments the sounds of Ramin Djawadi would echo in my thoughts.  So much drama. And so many memories.  The diversity of emotion would fill my soul. I saw The Glen and it evaporated for me and so many others.


I knew nothing more and nothing less than when I arrived here.


Oblivion was sublime and a release from the pain of wanting; and of desire.  


As it turns out, agony is born of that.


And, in its own way it was really boring.  


I had to laugh at that thought.


So after 50 years on the earth I finally meet the closest thing to the Buddha that probably exists and a part of me was bored.  


How was that possible?


I used to want to climb Mount Everest and walk the El Camino in Spain or watch the northern lights in Iceland.  And when finally faced with the enlightened one I had a thought of being too busy or preoccupied to pay attention to the wisdom.


Perhaps social media had been the demon I couldn’t face all along.  And it had drained more of me than I had realized was possible.


Or it was just me and the cumulative years of shitty decisions.  It was always easier to blame someone else.


What was my other option, posting pictures of food on the insta-book and throwing in a hashtag to highlight how impressive my mashed potatoes were?


That was never me.


I had fallen for thousands of lifetimes and back to a place of questions; the juxtaposition of decisions was in front of me, metaphorically speaking and I was thinking about mashed potatoes.


The Holy Man did not move.  He was eternal and I was not.


In a way I suspect his lesson was indirectly telling me to shut the fuck up and not say another world.  


And that alone was hysterical. 


Perhaps as a way of letting me know I was thinking too much, it started to rain in the grove of the Holy Man.


How do you laugh at the sense of irony; unless it was your wedding day.  But that’s another story.


I had dreams and I had nightmares, but I still believed there was something out there.


In those thousand lives I lost in order to be here I felt comfort. I had to be in that moment; regardless of how long it actually existed.


To purge myself from the thoughts of those that want and need and so many other things.


Out loud I uttered a word “Stop”. 


And I heard myself in this new world for the first time as if that word belonged to this place.


It was a key to a door that didn’t exist.  


Simply put, ‘stop’  That was it.


I could still believe. I could have those dreams and those nightmares.  But the lesson for that moment was simple. 


And then stop, and let them go.


I don’t know how good I would get at this but the point was made. 


The Holy Man never said a word about it.


And in the next breath I was closer to it all.  Closer to the nothing I yearned for. 


I felt I was in Lake Tahoe on that small pier looking back at the beach and it was 40 years prior.


It was staring to make sense.


Then he opened his eyes to glance at me.


I would swear there was a smile. 


AfterlightImage.jpeg

The simplicity of decision making

Assuming you have a rational way of looking at day to day situations, it turns out making decisions is really based on three factors.

At any given point you have three choices, and that’s it.

Acceptance:

Accept the situation for what it is and embrace it.  Personal happiness, the ability and desire to get along with others is directly traced back to this concept.

Change:

Actively work to change your situation for the better and in such a way that causes no harm.  The goal is to make things better on a larger scale than just for yourself.

Leave:

If you cannot accept a situation and do not want to work to change it, you literally have one choice that remains, leave that situation.

Why is that:

Somewhere in the wide expanse of life and all we know there is a definition of insanity and a sure fire way to become miserable. 

It can be defined in the following way:

“I can’t accept where I am and I won’t do anything to change it, nor will I leave it.”

This final concept breeds entitlement and victimization along with occasional self aggrandizing and a focus on the concepts of blame and fault; and always at others.  

People don’t like to accept a given situation if they think they are owed some thing or special treatment.  This also usually means they do not want to work to change that situation.  Which tends to indicate they don’t want to leave the situation because they might have to face themselves.  This is a viscous circle of stagnation and self-imposed misery.

Happiness and personal growth are just not that difficult to achieve when your perspective is updated to these concepts.

You can do this and more, it’s your decision.

AfterlightImage.jpeg

I Am Perfect

In a lost little desert town without traffic lights in the south west portion of riverside county in Southern California I woke up and threw myself into an oncoming train of arrogance and didn’t feel a thing when it struck me.

I don’t remember the exact year I came to this revelation.  

Perhaps the late 80’s, truth be told it doesn’t matter.

I was walking around the groves of my step-fathers ranch with all the pomp and circumstance that some sub-20 year old could muster and simply announced to the grape vines, squirrels, rabbits and random citrus trees “I am perfect”.  

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So long ago

I see the rivers of time

The flows of eternity

The water that falls

And the reasons behind

 

Those sounds that I cannot sleep too

Another thing I should have said

Echos now

I felt those things fall from the sky

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The moving castle

It’s strange, what is in the mind. 

It will be all right.

Because it is in the mind.

It sets us apart. 

 

Letting go; this time and again.

Fragile voices.; the angels dance.

So long ago. 

It was the ‘Riddle of the steel’ 

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Gal Gadot

We see in those things that matter; do this and more.

We dream as we should. 

In a cave, and on a plain, in the skies, the light of a candle. 

Wake to a new morning.

Forgive as we forget.

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Sharaya

Chapter one:  Shadows and dust.


I had not seen Sharaya for months, possibly more. I missed her.  But she wasn't the type of girl I could invite over, ever.

It was complicated.


She was my brother’s super geek calculus partner from college and his semi-professional ‘not-girlfriend’. 

She was also a time traveler, he didn’t know that part about her and probably never would.


I am also talking about two completely different girls, sort of.

It was late August in Southern California so it was hot and dry.  Which in the year 1984 was pretty typical for most days where we lived in Temecula.

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So naive

 In the twisted and naïve world I live in I believe I can solve problems.


I am usually wrong.


I think in some way my words, thoughts, opinions or pointing out factoids will sway you to see the light.


I am more often than not still wrong.


I absolutely support this country, even when I don't agree with a lot of things going on. And trust me, there are a lot of things going on that are really stupid.


I categorically support the men and women in our military, yet I hope that they never see combat and I think the men who make wars never pay the true price of their decisions.

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The Holy Man

“I remember now”

Three simple words I uttered while I stared out on the wide open plain that was the home of my recent rebirth.

In the past I kept dreaming of a world I thought I would never see.

A place I didn’t deserve but for my actions alone.

Yet here I was.

And alive, to what definition, well that was subject to debate.

Far behind me was the ocean and the coast.  The rocky cliffs were lifetimes ago along with the lingering cold that came with my awakening.

I had come to this world after leaving the chaos behind me.

I had changed.

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Wolfism

Wolfism

[woolf-iz-uhm]

noun

  1. The behavior of claiming a person or group has been wronged or discriminated against based on a specific demographic or characteristic of that person or group; knowing that the claim is in fact untrue.

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Invisible lines

“When hope springs eternal,

What river flows through us.

As darkness fades,

Your journey begins.

The lost shall be found,

The risen shall live again.”

I was awake.

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1982

A hot dry wind blew through the open window of my 1978 blue Ford Capri. This was not to be unexpected during the summer months in Temecula California. The high desert was in fact hot and dry; and desolate.

No one in their right mind would choose to live here I often thought.

The year was 1982 and I was on my way to summer school.  Not entirely by choice, but truth be told I didn’t have anything better to do.  That and my mom somewhat told me I had to go to stay out of trouble.

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The Journey to Belief

Flight 2413 left Seattle as scheduled; which was unusual for this specific airline based on my experience with them.  The skies my be friendly, but these people are rarely on time.

I awoke to a January storm that had subsided long enough for the sun to break through the morning clouds in the pacific north west.

The howling of the pre-dusk winds had subsided and it had warmed to a tepid 54 degrees.

The streets were wet and the movement of people had begun; to where I had no clue.

Today I would be traveling back to the final week of my Texas adventure.

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Detachment

It’s morning in January. Perhaps around 8:30 am.  I woke much earlier as I recall.

I’m sitting in a small diner that exists in an inconsequential town in West Texas.  

There is a purpose to this day.

The restaurant is on a street that would be easily forgotten if you blinked while driving to one of the many auto parts stores that seem to spontaneously appear on every other street corner in so many small cities in Texas.

The patrons of the diner are coming and going; quite likely related to church as it is Sunday in the bible belt.

From what I can hear, most of them are talking about about the day, the week and repeating the sound bites from some mindless news channel or what is trending on their social media feed.

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The beginning - part one

There was darkness and in the darkness I decided to find some light.

It was either that or once and for all plunge into that darkness and be done with it all. I even had my point of exit planned. I thought if all else fails I will drive off a cliff at the Columbia gorge river.  I had been there once before. It was a long fall that would have the desired effect.

No one would miss me is a thought that played over and over.

For unknown reasons I ruled that option out.  I don’t remember why anymore. I guess that’s a good thing.

Where to he asks himself?

So I started to look into what I was and what I had become. I wanted to start somewhere. I had to start somewhere is a better way of saying it.

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Leaving The Fog

A while back someone asked me what was in it for them.  

I said ‘nothing’. And left it at that.   There was no answer to the question.  For that matter, there was no question to answer.

And why would you ask me. I don’t know these things.  

There is nothing in it for anyone if you have to ask is all I thought in that moment.

Its the experience of being that is your only reward.  

But what does it take to get to that point?

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