What's that? No way!

Perception leads the way over the ridge as Valid follows rifle in hand. They hold the formation of closely packed single file. The pavement ended back one mile as they stepped over the curb into the brush. Now they dodged trees and avoided twigs when able to; however, not all sounds could be diminished. They were taking quick steps, afraid the truck would leave with the weapon and they almost climbed the ridge when the cannon fired again. They froze; both followed the arc of the plasma, almost in awe of its beautiful destructive power. Valid interrupted Perception with a radio pop and they were soon again moving. Both knew time was not on their side.

“Gotta move faster,” Valid gasped, “not sure when that thing will leave.” Perception responded,

“Trust me, they’re not going anywhere right now, they have to wait for that weapon to cool.” Plasma was indeed a powerful energy source, but the resulting heat from a cannon firing prevented plasma from being more widely used. All generals agreed on its capabilities and were nearly succinct on the fact that they didn’t need burned soldiers in battle. One injured soldier had to be taken care of by two others: that took bodies off the field of battle. Valid is the weapons expert of the two though, however plasma based weapons were not in her crash course. They needed results fast not an expert on all subjects.

“Ah, forgive me. Plasma based weapons are not a forte of mine,” Valid replies with a smart tone. At a young age, Valid took up a liking for projectile based weapons. She argued that beam weapons, although exempt from wind, reveal your position far too easily. Feeling that lean towards bullets led her to be the sniper she is today: sneaky and accurate with a deadly touch. Perception froze as his mind was cluttered with noise. The noise, while difficult to negotiate, always had a story.

“Simple,” he stated. Valid took a kneel next to him and she looked up.

“When is it ever simple ‘Cepty?” This was her nickname for Perception. They first met in Davenport, Georgia. Valid used to read for hours in this one particular coffee house in Davenport until her mind hurt. One dull night she passed the register to leave and she received a snide comment from the customer standing there at the register. The customer stated, “early in the night to be leaving, with a beautiful girl like you, can’t have that boring of a night.” Valid shot him a look as she opened the door to walk next door to her car. The customer followed as the Baristas gave odd looks. “Why you walkin away baby,” the southern accent poured out of his mouth, “the night is just getting started, I just arrived.” His arms now perpendicular to his hips gave him almost a welcoming body gesture.

“Sorry, I don’t respond the assholes,” Valid’s heart was pumping as they both were in the parking lot now. She noticed his gait increased almost to a run, while processing this he had already caught up to her. The customer grabbed Valid’s arm as to spin her around. She felt this and let him spin her, the momentum created allowed her fist to be thrown into his face. At the last moment, the customer ducked in front of her attempt to cause pain.

“Who the hell are you,” infuriated Valid tackled the man and straddled him. She was about to deliver a blow until he spoke up. Laughing, the man spoke.

“Wow, better than I expected.” Puzzled, she threw herself into a flip to right herself. He continued, “Not everyone can fight like that.” Valid felt the need to use “it”. She never quite knew what “it” was but despite that fact, “it” gave her great power to suck the truth from people she felt angered towards.

Clinching her fist towards him she used her ability, “who are you?” Perception didn’t want to respond but he felt this force grab his insides and tug; almost ripping his spine from his body, of course this was far from the truth. It compelled him to speak.

“I’m looking for you; in fact, I found you. I’m Perception.” She lets him go enabling him to speak for himself. Out of breath Perception felt like his insides were beaten. “You know, I could be mad at you; I’m not though because I knew this was going to happen as soon as you walked past me in the shop.” Thirsty for more information Valid thrusts out her hand towards Perception; he pleads, “I’ll tell you more, just don’t do that again; kind of hurts.” He elaborates on finding her, how he was looking for her. He’s been on the road for six months searching for her. Explains how his power affects him; explains the difference. “So I plead with you, come with me and you can learn how to harness your power.”

“How can I know you’re honest, you’re a stranger to me.” Valid locks eyes with him and drifts closer. She’s close now with her warm breath whipping at this chin. “So, how can I know?”

“Well, not sure what your test is.” Perception says this as his skin, sweating now, sticks to this shirt. Valid contemplates this new knowledge, and she decides to question.

“What test?”

“Well, most folks have a test,” he leans towards her, “a test for trust.” Eyes locked she speaks again and her breath, cold now, rolls to his ears.

“I’ll go,” she whispers.

Crouching behind the bush now, Valid annoyed, views Perception. “You done yet,” he looks up and shakes the cloudiness from his head. Knowing his “perceptions” are annoying to her, he quickly validates his vision.

“Five men on the other side of the truck,” he goes on, “in fact, I’m willing to bet they’re smoking or goofing around.” Valid sees the truck through her scope and confirms it. She sees the tops of the helmets of the enemy on the other side.

“Correct, should I bless them with my presence?”

Perception, always annoyed with her wanting to kill something, but thankful for her skill states, “well that’s not what we want right now, we don’t want a presence. I’m going to go down and grab someone, when I do that, come down. We’ll need you to tear the truth out of them Valid.” She nods and waits while Perception makes his way down the mountainside.

“Not lit up like our last area,” she mutters then flips on the night vision, NV for short, “always better.” She presses her headset and whispers into it, “God’s looking out for you.”

Coming of Age

The gunfire came from an alley; this was taken care of by a grenade lobbing. Chunks of brick hit Valid in the face; made her wince in pain for a second. Perception glanced at her face in kind, but quickly turned his attention to the alley. Crouched, pistol at his knees, he peered around the corner. The smoke quickly dispersed from the alley, Perception saw two bodies, or what was left of them. “All clear lets move on,” quickly after stating the claim, an overhead crack was sounded. Perception and Valid stopped dead in their tracks.

“What in God’s name was that? Never heard a sound quite like that.” Valid said as she ducked next to a wall. Perception was crouched peering into the sky, with Valid acknowledging the sound, it triggered him to walk into the closest high rise. He arrived at the roof and cityscape revealed a downed helicopter tattered and burning. “Really?” he stated.

“Really what” Valid questioned, as she donned her sniper rifle; peering through the viewfinder she focused on the crash site. “Two bogeys, wait, look like friendlies.” She zoomed out and saw three blurs; she focused on the blurs. Seeing no uniform Valid quickly squeezed off three rounds; each one for the back of their skulls. Turning back to the crash site, she saw no movement. Perception recognized the raised eyebrow and hurried to the first floor. He radioed to Valid: “Cover me; I’m going to check it out.” Still high above the ground Valid conceded as her position was optimal for sighting. Replying to his order, “all clear boss man, you can call me God.” She smirked and continued, “keeping an eye out for you.” He shrugged off the quibble and ducked. “Still clear, I got you in my sights.” Perception neared one blade of the helicopter; it began to sag as the heat from the fire started to take affect on its structure. Amazed, he touched the blade with his index finger; this blade didn’t have one scratch.

“Admiring the coloring sir, or is that mind working?” The gears in Perception’s mind began to spin, why this helicopter, why random? The fact of the matter was that anti-aircraft weapons were miles away, not next to the building. How this aircraft crashed was a mystery. He remembered the crack and started to question what the sound really was.

“Valid, that sound before the helicopter crashed, what could it have been?” Perception had already begun to query his own statement; however, brainstorming came to a blank. Just as his mind began to give up he remembered back to the sagging blade of the helicopter. Fire from a crash doesn’t get that hot until hours after the crash to make a blade sag unless it has jet fuel to encourage it. Even then, the blade would take at least an hour to start sagging. “Valid, this fire is hot. Hotter than hot, the metal is already bending; brainstorm weapons.”

“Well, only answer I can think of is a well directed plasma ca- sir duck.” Without hesitation Perception ducked, he saw a bullet trail wisp over his head; glancing his scalp and leaving a dull feeling. A grunt sounded behind him; hearing a crash he viewed the fallen body. The bullet had made a clean hole in the enemy’s forehead; seeing this, he gave the thumbs up to Valid. Peering through the scope she saw this statement of goodwill; the headset belched into her ear:

“Thanks for the cover, knew you were good but I thank you for being better than I had once thought.”

She offered her gratitude and quickly went back to scoping the ground. How many more enemies was grabbing at Valid’s forethought, as she had plenty of bullets but little patience. Perception slowly danced around the crash site looking for survivors, knowing this was a fleeting cause he soon grimaced knowing several of his colleagues were burning inside. He went to shadows taking cover as the black dark over took his body. He was waiting, for what only he knew. He envisioned a set of troops, about squad size, arriving to ascertain the damage inflicted.

“You know sir, I hate when you’re right,” this was stated as she viewed his smile through the scope. She re-focused on the squad and garnered the information she needed and made quick but precise calculations in her head. Just as she was about to begin her religious executions, a quick burp from the headset interrupted the ceremony. She knew this meant for her to lay off a moment as he needed silence.

Cloaked in darkness, Perception knew they would survey the scene. He awaited the usual patrol scheme; they first checked the scene to be safe. They then walked out behind the pillars of the buildings; out into the open. Perception saw their trump card; he radioed to Valid.

“I see it sir, got it in my sights.” He knew she would definitely not fire into this particular squad. One of the smaller, but beefier soldiers shouldered an M-45 Armor Piercing Rocket launcher. She knew the capabilities and limitations of this weapon; they were few and far between. The self-proclaiming God was silent now.

Lassoing his weapon to his back, Perception moved slowly towards the enemy. This target was a vulnerable, but tall and slender; meaning that he could move. He carried some form of a weapon which was anchored to his thigh; Perception planned out his attack. Move quietly and swiftly, take him from behind. He did just that; however, nearing his rear, about an inch away, the soldier perked up and began to talk. Perception discerned that an Armored Personnel Carrier was approaching; APC for short. The soldier went silent, and Perception put one arm, hand holding knife to his neck. His other hand held him still as he began to whisper into his ear.

“Where did that weapon come from?” He yanked his enemy to answer, he let a small breath leave his mouth; the soldier was shaking. He answered.

“Over the next ridge, it’s on a truck.” The soldier gave up the location and coordinates to Perception; he obviously wanted to live. Feeling merciful he put him to sleep instead of jabbing his insides. Signaling for Valid to join him, she perked in:

“Can I take them?” Anxious to hear his reply she began to eye her first target.

“No, get down here fast, we need to get to that area.” Pereptions eye’s refocused on the site; he saw a body, charred but not too bad off. The enemy took a knife, stabbing him in the stomach and watched him churn in pain. Standing up now the soldier smirked and then put a bullet in the head of the injured soldier. Feeling an anxious culling, he revered putting bullets inside everyone’s head over the next ridge. He began to move slowly into the dark.

You feel it?

Maybe you do feel it, the rotting composure of your attitude. The regrets, the 'I should have done this' moments. You can always wage a war against yourself and society; maybe make a difference for the moment. We always forget about those; befallen the true heroes of civilization. Intellectual mindset that is. It's so forgotten, that reading a book is unheard of. Paying attention to our world is vividly unreal. Seeing each other as children of a power that is unreal to us, is gone. We all go around like ants almost.

Imagine this: you see someone on the sidewalk approaching, you go to view them only to look down at the last moment. What is that? The awkward notion that they may be thinking about you? Or is it our societal system that says "hey, you're an ant, nothing more." I have a challenge for you. When you see someone on a sidewalk, in a train, or a bus; tell them hello. In fact, introduce yourself. It's exhilarating, breaking that awkward silence. Just to saying hello lets someone know that you care. So, the next question to you my lovely citizen friends is: when did you realize that you're alive?

Was it the first cut that drew blood? Or was it when your heart was broken? Do you feel alive? Ask yourself that question, are you living to your potential. I know that's a cliche question, think about it. What do you wish you were doing right now? So why aren't you doing it? Granted, I can't talk. I wish so many things, some unrealistic almost. However, stop and look around. Breathe. Have another challenge for you: everyday realize you're alive. This may come from saying to yourself, I'm lucky to be here or it may come in the form of a question. For example, "what did I do for someone else, am I living?"

This may sound melodramatic and a reasoning that I can't sustain. Guess you're right, but we can all take a breathe and share the air pollution. Wage the war and don't give up. Say hello to a stranger. Remind yourself that you're living. We're not ants, we're not to be fondled nor broken. We're humans, a product of evolution; a design that's beautiful.

Overdue update on my story.

His body twitched when it hit the ground. Three more bullets rattle around him as Perception and Valid take cover. The eyes of the body stare at them. Pushed to say something, he does, “that was close,” Perception states. Valid shoots him a look of strain and then the plaster explodes by her head. Taking his rifle, Perception sticks it in the newly formed hole in the plaster, and lets it go. Then silence. Both peer around the wall, then stand and view Jared. Perception walks away as Valid takes a knee next to his body. She rips his tags off of him and runs after Perception.

“Just gonna leave him like that” she yells, “He deserves more!” Next to Valid, he is able to force her against the wall.

“I know what he gave, what we gave!” Sweat rolls into his eyes due to the yelling, burns at the touch. “We need to continue on, find shelter from the daylight.” She concedes and moves behind Perception. Thoughts in her head explode, almost take her over. Letting go of Jared was wrong, but needed. Am I expendable as well? She was interrupted by gunfire.

Sleeping isn't Easy

I lay down with the weight of humanity on my chest. Nothing seems to be right anymore. My parents say to me, "things are a cycle." Yes, I know history is cyclical, but the signs of impending doom are so certain. Maybe I worry too much. I'll just keep up with my studies, and keep up with being happy. That seems to work for me.
Sometimes I wish for a fantasy world for me to live in. A world without the warming of the planet and without wars. I guess we still have hope right?

PS: I'll have some more continuation of that story. Remember back in may? :)

She says,
'lets end this'
he is filled with emotion
as I watch
from the outside looking
in

'nothing can save us,'
he pleads
never wanting it
to end,
stating
that his love
is all he has

I bow my head;
listening to
all he has
yet
no one
to turn to,
sad
I vow
to myself never
to let this
happen

guess every
event is a lesson;
a lesion of a sort
fissure,
almost
just let it
happen
let it
teach you

I walk,
treading asphalt,
thinking of my
friend
of why we put
ourselves
through pain,
we say
'never again'
but it happens,
referendum,
of the sorts
taught again to not love
taught
to hate

What is this?

When did this start?
Was it when my roommate stopped looking at me?
Stopped smiling?
We don't talk anymore.
I don't like it.

What about when I slept over?
Was that it?
Did that change things?
You said it was fine.
It was late.

Will this weird sensation go away?
Is it here till I see you again?
Till I get home?
I want to but I don't too.
Roller coaster.

I'm having fun.
But thoughts
that I can't let out
and emotions
I can't express.

They fill inside.
I might explode.
That might be good.

And I could shatter.
And fall over all
those that I love.

And maybe I could
make them happy
all at the same time.

But I'm here with no one I can talk to face to face
And these emotions fucking hurt
because they're good
and they're bad
but it's all too fast
and it tears at my life
at my heart
at my mind.

And all I can do
is sit and type
and hope someone reads.
and that they will understand
from an ocean away.

Can't Make Me Feel, Any Less Alone

Lies and fortitude

Let her forgive,

The many

Among her

Cannot;

Told this fact,

She lets it go

Merely

To not ever forget

Looking him in the

Eyes

The gut feeling

Brings stings;

Detesting his strength,

Prowess,

Of loving her

Giving everything

She lets go

As she views,

Many wrinkles form

Around the brown spheres

Now glowing

With wetness

Thinking of his actions

He swallows himself

Everything blurred now

‘Why?’ he asks

It wasn’t worth it

A cent

Nor

A dollar

It Happens to Go Like This

As the summer comes to a close one has to think and reflect on past events that has happened this year at camp. Wait, wait: nothing. In all this was a successful year, but something was missing. I can't put a finger on it, and as an adventure zone staffer the river was not the same. Don't be fooled into thinking that nothing good happened, as it did. I learned what I need to work on when I'm under stress and how I react to it. I made some good friends that I know I can call on when the time is needed they'll respond. Now onto the bad.

Come to think of the bad as a learning experience for all. For the camp there was the usual things happening with staff relationships, and how everyone copied David Wills usual cheer. My fellow staff and our bosses relationship, the negativity it had in the middle, but it's ending great. The firings of the Health Officers, Brian and Patrick, was at the least surprising for me. The new girls are amazing at their jobs though! I've come to realize that some fans of sports are INSANE. Such and Zach Gerson, I love you man but come on it's football!? What else, we had one staffer who's a hypocrite and I called her out. They started crying, oh well. We had a lot of program unity, and some moderate divisions between program areas. Laziness has led to death for animals at the nature center, and that staffer has been let go. I'm guilty of it all as well as every other staffer. Just the blatant stupidity of some was uncalled for. This was unfortunately a good uneventful summer with cracks in the middle. Now will I come back?

Who knows, a lot can happen between now and then. I think real life may start to interject in my happenings, but that's okay! As my good friend Jim once said to me, "you know this is the only time in my life I can do this, so why not?" He continued on to say "it may not pay the best but it's a good job and it's fun!" He's putting my thesis on the summer, and that's that. So it goes.

Thought That Was Strange To See You Again

Kinder harder to wake up and not know who you are. I did that today. So later in this day I shaved my head. Clean. I need change, I need to change. That is all. I'm on my own personal journey now, the betterment of my soul. I need this.

Maybe It's The Warmer Climate

I went to the flag retirement ceremony to take photos. I didn't get very good shots; however, I had an eye opener that was amazing. One of our elders scouts on camp, at the end of the ceremony, spoke of how our freedom is in danger. How we must defend it, and if we don't we're all in jeopardy.

I have a problem with that. Who are we fighting against? Those massive standing armies that want to take away our freedom, or the countries that dislike our societies invading theirs? Seriously, a flag retirement ceremony. I do understand though that many died for our sake to be 'free' and to live the life we live. So during the ceremony I walked up behind a co-worker and she stated, "wow you walk loud."

"why does it matter?" I responded.

"You gotta show respect!" She replied. So, show respect? Showing respect for the individuals who are participating in the ceremony I understand, but the flag?

A piece of cloth that is made in China, and that piece of cloth represents our country. One that invades other countries on false pretenses. One that fabricates stories on how they are evil. What is worse, a blow job in the oval office or this butt fuck of war my generation will have to pay off?

Only Noise, Now It's Gone

Found it today

The

Only noise

I have

Of you,

Haunted me

Left the heart

Drained;

Buried in love

Ignoring signs

Drowned out

By your attacks;

Tired

Sitting

Watching

This only noise of

Yours

Hitting the delete

Rips her

From my life;

Quiet now

Hard to imagine

Now

What it was

We had;

This only noise

Of you,

Assassinated

So It Goes

So starts another week at camp. Think we've worked out the kinks in program; however, one thing irks me. The owner of Whitewater Express, the company we go rafting through, is on a board in the Atlanta Area Council. So basically he makes sure he has business no matter what. He feeds himself customers through the scouts and it's amazing.

He complained to us about how it costs so much to bring the buses down to our camp, so he needs the exact numbers. I've estimated he makes around $3K a day. His guides costs him 250$ and the buses are 400$. So he doesn't get his maximum profit, but no worries he's doing it for the scouts. How it is, so it goes.

Dealing with this bureaucratic organization is well how do I put it? Wonderful. It's great to be told by a man that doesn't work here that there are no bikes allowed on camp. Only in the bike cage, which is outside. One thing though, this adventure will make me more experienced when I'm plunged into the depths of a job.

This Camp

So, I arrived at camp Sunday, and of course worked. We finally got to go down the river today, guiding customers. This irritates me, but surprises me by the fact that our rafting company trusts us enough to go down the river. I know, I'm experienced, but not everyone? Of course, it is just whitewater express. Tomorrow I do work crews, but we do not arrive on the river until oh Thursday. So we're supposed to do training and have six trips under our belt by next week. However, we won't. We'll instead be doing "busy work" and wasting time while others can do the work as well. Such as the Nature staff.

Think of the children! Okay, lame I know. I have one the easiest jobs and guiding today for the first time in two years was a cinch. Ah, the life. Take photos on Sunday, rest of the week do river trips. Can't complain.

So that Camp

So, I went to camp and worked on the bikes. I received help from two awesome individuals Jenny and Micheal. They made the day go by quick, and we were done by 10:30 am. So now I'm at my cabin in Tennessee writing this blog entry. I'm planning on going kayaking tomorrow, maybe if this ligament in my wrist stops killing me.

I have to be at camp on Sunday, that's when regular check in is. I've already moved into my room and it's in the "staff lodge" which has wireless internet and air conditioning. Funny because I thought this was a "camp" not a luxury getaway. However, the boys still stay in tents, which is a good thing. So, at the "trading post" we are receiving an iced coffee machine. Great. The boys are going to be over sugared (because of the slushies) and over caffeinated. I just can't wait for the drink mixes.

"I mixed candy apple and mocha java, I wonder what it'll taste like." I can't wait for the boys to say well mommy and daddy... I'll keep you all updated on what happens at camp, and all the funny stories. As there will be lots. I think this is going to be a great camp as we are now one of the best in the nation. Scary.

Happy To Be Here

The ship arrived overhead, and Valid immediately took cover as did Jarod. However, Perception did not, instead he stared at it. Shook his head and said "they already saw us, no point in hiding."

Responding, "I don't care it just scared me!" Valid was out of breath from yelling at him. The ship floated, and came to a stop. As soon as movement ceased the ship ejected a small craft. The craft, small and mobile flew towards Valid, Perception, and Jarod. Swift in its presence the ship stopped above them and floated down. Landing, the door flew open and out walked two figures. The three pointed weapons at them, but soon recognized the figures; general Frank and Commander Thomas. All slapped their legs together and gave the general attention.

Thomas quite annoyed about the attention but accepts it. "At ease soldiers" suprised at the fact that even knowing all three they give him complete respect. "I know right now you all are confused on what to do" he continues, "Valid's mission was to extract you all to this location." Nodding, Valid agrees to this statement. "You three work together seamlessly and we've called on you many of times to quell violence, enemies and other things" Thomas goes on, "we need something else of you." Interested, they all lean forward slightly. "Your names mean something as they correspond with your power," Thomas looks at Valid and winks, "Perception you can see things in other places and Valid you can rip the truth out of many a man." Looking at Jarod, "and you, well you're just an ogre and we love that." Thomas sums it up, "You three need to find an individual named Vitiate."


Jarod sees this pain, "what, a bloody man, you call us the best but we have to find a man?" Valid and Perception nod in agreement. Thomas stares at Jarod and makes him nod in agreement.

"Good, you all know your parts." Commander Thomas gets back into the shuttle and General Franks added something.

"Don't fail, we know you'll be fine." Franks hops into the shuttle with Thomas. The shuttle rises and jets back into the ship. Perception looks at Valid, laughs and walks to the gun box.

"You knew this was going to happen" Perception questions Valid, "but you were scared; nice."

The Ship

So, I go to Boyscout camp tomorrow. I'll be working as a Raft Guide, Whitewater Merit Badge Instructor, and a photographer. So if anyone reads this thing, I'll be updating on what happens this summer. I'll be too busy to finish my story; however, I'll finish it later when my creative juices start flowing again. When I arrive tomorrow I'll start working on the camp bikes; of course they need me to keep them in working condition. Keep reading. May get interesting later on, or I'll stop posting.

The Store

Gunfire ripped through the metal leaving outward craters. Jarod, leaning around the car, had the foe in sight. An old jeep with a cannon, strapped to the back, let out shots bucking the jeep from side to side. Jarod, about to lean around and take a pot shot, was grabbed on the shoulder by Perception. "I wouldn't do that, unless you won't chicken soup for a face." Jarod looked at Perception and gave him an awkward glare, but when doing so a shell hit where Jarod would have leaned out. "Told yeah, Jarod you may want to start listening to me," Perception gave him the look of disappointment. When saying that, a large roar came from overhead, pushing both men's backs into the burning car. A jet shaped like a large V appeared, all black with no noticeable lines. The radio on Perceptions shoulder came to life.

"Two four two, Bravo six, we see your position," the radio yelled, "proceeding with counter strike." The aircraft ripped out a large missle from it's under-belly and then banked right. Streaming into the air the missle was vectored towards the Jeep. Seeing this, the pilots of the Jeep screamed the tires into the asphalt, but the action was little too late. All the men felt was the intense heat from the explosion as the Jeep was lit up, lifted off the ground for a half second, then dropped back down. Parts fell off, burning and smelting into liquid from the intense heat. "Confirm target was neutralized," the radio again belched.

"Target silenced Bravo six, thanks and good hunting," Perception announced. Relief filled both men, as the fight was over; however small, significant. "Just going to get harder from here out, hope your aim is good Jarod."

"Of course, bloody boys with the toy guns, no match," Jarod defending himself, cocked his large rail gun. "Time to get up and look at this store, cut the shut Perception, lets go." Mentioning his name, brought him back into reality. Perception viewed Jarod walking into the store, and he jumped to his feet, running into the store with him. Immediately when arriving they saw what caused the explosion, the shattered cylinder lay amongst the charred bodies. The charred bodies where small, lined up as to leave the store. It hit Perception like a shot in the head, this may not have been a store. Jarod called him over, and he knew what he had to do. Perception reached for the shattered cylinder; he dove into the depths of another vision.

He viewed the children, playing and laughing, going amongst others screaming and running. As he saw this, attention caught him, a man with a bag handed it to an elder worker. The man pointed at one of the children, and spoke to the woman. The woman nodding her head agreeably, turned and walked towards the child, she looked once again at the door to view the man. He was gone, not considering the gift anything substantial, the elder shook her head walking towards the child. The child ran towards her, seeing the bag was for him, and started to rip it open. His hands grabbed the bag, the bag blew a bright light and enveloped the child. In an instant, daycare was gone. Perception jumped back into reality with a cold sweat down his back, shuttering he looked a Jarod. "Fucking daycare, a bloody goddamn daycare!" He screamed towards Jarod, "children man!"

Jarod suprised by his outburst, "what happened?"

"This was a daycare, and a man blew it to shit." Perception tightened his fist as anger overwhelmed him. Another cold shiver took enveloped him as a whisper took over his body.

"Calm down, you boys can't hack this. Let me handle this one," the voice was cold as it drafted into his ear. Yet sweet and soft, like a bow string just plucked. Perception calmed when hearing this, knowing the sound of the voice.

"Ah Valid, who would have known, you showing up at such a scene," Perception turning and facing her, "so what's the news today?"

Valid, responding to the criticism, "well today we have a daycare torn to bits." Continuing, "tomorrow, who knows, maybe a school." Valid views Perception, and kicks her short red hair behind the ear. Looking downwards, Valid concedes and gets closer to Perception; touching his chest Valid continues, "I'm here for you all, here to help."

Responding, Jarod yells across the room, "or maybe you were just ordered here!" Valid gives Jarod a shot and looks at Perception again.

"Nonetheless, we gotta go." Valid reached towards her radio and called the dropship. "We have orders, something else has popped up," Valid insisted and walked towards the center of the street. Right then the dropship flew in, short stubby wings with the back wide open. The marine pointed the rear turret at them, they hop in the back and Valid, Perception, and Jarod sit down. Valid stares into Perception's eyes, "god I missed this."

"Missed what?" Perception questioned.

"Flying and killing with you, ah too much time spent away," Valid responded. The dropship banked to the right, and the marine let the turret rip loose. The pilot came onto the intercom, "folks seems we've run into some 'hostile' ground fire." The pilot laughing turned off the intercom, and Jarod had to add something.

"While you two love birds share memories," Jarod now smoking his cigar again thick with an accent, "we do have a fucking mission that I know nothing about." Cocking his head towards Valid, "Mind telling us what we are freaking doing?" Valid looked at him curiously, the ship bucked hard to the rear. The marine luckily was held on by a harness, Jarod was not so lucky. Jarod flew and hit the ceiling. Knocked unconscious Jarod started to slide out the back. Perception lunged towards his body, grabbing it before it went too far.

"Not so fast Jarod," Perception said grunting while pulling him back to safety. Valid looked at Perception and gave off a grunt, all while she held on for dear life. The ship, now turning was low to the ground, and it hovered above an empty parking deck. Losing altitude the ship slowly descended to a park. The marine viewed Jarod.

"Taking a little nap on the job." The marine laughed as Perception lifted him on his shoulders. They hopped out, the same time Valid pushed a large crate off the back.

"Weapons," she says, "kind of need them to blow stuff up." She smiled while saying this. Perception looked at Jarod as he gently layed him down on the platform behind a crate. He slapped Jarod in the face and Jarod woke immediately.

"What happened son?" Jarod looked confused and dazed. They both heard the cold sound of a sliding rifle bolt as it slid the bullet into the chamber.

Valid, holding her scoped weapon, smirked at both Jarod and Perception. "You boys ready to rumble, cause we have incoming." She pointed towards the sky, a shadow was casted on the ground around them as the ship came into view.

Loving Hands

Your love comes out your hands.
It all comes out of your hands.
Make me remember who I am.
-- Girlyman

I love this band, for one. For two, I love the visual given by these lines. Two images come to mind: first would be this magical, mystical image of love literally coming out of someones hands. Just picture a person with love shooting out of their fingertips like when the Beast in Beauty and the Beast turns back into a Prince. Bright light shoots from his fingertips and he is transformed into something beautiful. A beautiful something that had always been there but hidden inside because of the love he has for Belle. The idea that love transforms you from the inside out. Love is a necessity to change and grow. "Make me remember who I am." Feeling that love given from another helps you remember who you are. Why you are who you are.

Second, is a more figurative take on the lyrics. Using your hands as a way of showing love. I automatically picture Mother Theresa in my mind. I see her helping a child. Then I picture Rose, a woman I met in New Orleans whose house had been totally water damaged by the flooding in the 9th ward. Her tears of love to each of us as she helped us carry out items from HER house. Images keep coming to my head. A big hug from a dear dear friend. Holding a baby while he cries. A gardener planting a new flower. A letter written to a friend far away. All these visuals involve use of hands. Your hands can change things. Your hands can make a difference to someone. Can flood love to a person. Can help them remember that they are loved and they too have a purpose.

Showing love through your hands then not only affects those you touch, but it transforms yourself. You become this beautiful creature that had been there all along. And you also spread this beauty and love to those you touch with this love.

Close my eyes and hold my heart
Cover me and make me something
Change this something normal
Into something beautiful
-- Jars of Clay

Barrier Court Road, or Is It Lane?

Jarod and Perception were both young partners in crime; they grew up together you know. Jarod grew to be a man with not many morals, a wild card one could say. An excellent marksman, but suave to know that sometimes brute force was the best option. Jarod was around six feet, weighing in at 220 pounds; many had made the mistake to think that was all hulk not genuine mobility. Lets just say, the local bars don't allow him in. He specialized in brute force, and was inducted into the program at the age of thirteen. They found no specialty in him, he was quickly revoked. However, he met a young man named Perception. He and Perception met one day in a store. It all started with Perception cutting in line.

"Hey, that's my spot sir," Jarod wailed. Perception was new to Jarod, and it bothered the boy, why he cut in line. Jarod reached for Perception's shoulder as to turn him around. As Jarod initiated he was stunned by his remark.

"Wouldn't quite do that right now," Perception exclaimed, "I know what you're going to do now: turn me around and wail me." Jarod, taken aback, withdrew his hand.

"How did you do that, just know my position?" Perception turned around and said this:

"I see a future together, you and I, a future bright with destruction and closeness." Perception closed his mouth and turned around again, waiting for the line to move.


Greedy for knowledge Jarod questioned, thick in his accent, "well how do you know that, we may be just runnin into each other." He felt strange, like this encounter was supposed to happen.

"I saw it," He turned around once again and approached Jarod. Standing an inch shorter one would think nothing like this would come to pass, but it did. The amazing thing is the fact that Jarod felt that this was true.

"Who are you?" Jarod once again questioning fate.

"I'm a future friend"

"Really, who says?"

"Fate, the name is Perception."

"Jarod," pointing to himself.

"I know."

"How?"

"I perceive, see into the future and other places." He goes on, "I saw you in a dream, your name and how we met." Jarod is now suprised, guess others did not wash out of the program. The, Noble Cause.

Looking at Perception, gun in hand, Jarod crouches behind a burning car. Hot to the touch, no matter, only cover for yards. The store, where the explosion racked, only meters away. Perception leading, was about to dash across the narrow alleyway, that's when the gunfire started.

Short Story

The Noble Cause

"So this cause is a noble one" Jarod says "one told throughout generations to the young ones, one can call all of them: children." That was what they used to be called: children. Now the upper class, the top, call them aliens. Creatures from the mother's womb, but they call their own children. Just not the lower class; the class below them is vile now. Jarod continues heavy in his drunken accent, "would you want to know what this, noble cause is?"

The man named Perception listens on, but is jarred back into reality by Jarod's cold breath. "Oh what's that again?," Perception not really caring what happens to the children. "I just need sleep, it's getting late," walking to the bedroom he turns around and says, "you know, what is this 'noble cause'?" Jarod, excited that Perception cares, wisks himself off the couch and towards Perception.

When arriving to Perception his eyes seemed fraudulent, "it's a noble cause because we will stop it all, stop all the violence and hate." He goes on telling about the dreams hes been having, and about how he is the greatest; how he will stop it all. Walking into the bedroom, Perception, collapses onto the bed while tripping over his night shoes. He doesn't care, as sleep soon overwhelms him.

The alarm sounds with the earsplitting ring of torturous bells on a Sunday morning. Groaning, Perception is jolted into reality and awakes with a long yawn. He flips on the television and the news once again, never missing a beat, reports the horrors of the world. Through the static the TV buzzes, "9:34 this morning, a young woman walked into a market and detonated a personal bomb strapped to her chest." He watches intently as the voice, heavy with a British accent, goes on, "there is no known motive at this time; however authorities cite the fact that the girl has close ties to.." The voice trails off as Perception gets ready for the day.

Saying to himself, "what will I do today?" He ponders this fact and the idea pops into his mind about how he could rob a bank. Chuckling to himself and walking to the door he says aloud, "Jarod, I'm leaving buddy!" Jarod is jarred into reality not knowing where he is. His orientation soon comes and realizes someone is calling his name. Recognizing the voice, he dresses and falls down the stairs all while sipping coffee.

"I'm here," Jarod exclaims, "no need for medics." Humored by his joke, he gets into the car. The car is an old 91 Toyota Tercel, with a green paint job lacking the critique of a clean car. Its previous owner was good to it, as it is almost new. They leave the driveway with Perception behind the wheel, Jarod lazily flops his head onto the window. Turning the car onto Barrier Court road, there is a block: traffic. He sighs at this new revelation, realizing he'll have to drive past this obstacle.

"Fucking traffic," Perception claims with his thick accent. Annoyed and rolling his eyes, he looks towards Jarod, "never ends you know, just keeps building up." Putting his head onto the window, he observes the traffic flowing every so slowly. Noticing people exiting their cars and running, he is alert and wakes Jarod. "What do you think," he says excited and eyes flaring. Jarod was about to say something, but the pressure from the shock wave was too great as the explosion from the store ripped the words out of his mouth. The windshield cracked and then shattered, Perception had enough, he bounced out of the car and headed towards the rear. Jarod did the same and joined Perception behind the vehicle. "You know, bloody traffic and the whole thing rips to shit," Jarod pops the trunk and reveals a cache of body armor, and weapons of some sort. Mostly assault rifles and grenades, with lots of ammunition. Jarod picks up a rifle, grenade, and armor; hands it to Perception. He arms himself as well.

Jarod takes a swig from the canteen, "so you ready for this?" he says.

Perception knows, it isn't water, "let me have some of that." He wipes the drink off his lip, as the liquid burns his insides, and gives the signal to go. They make from car to car examining the insides all while people fly by screaming. Some bloody others limping to safety.

"What the hell happened?" Jarod's musky accent shined through the chaos. Perception smiled all while they rushed to the next car. A wail sounded on the other side of this car. Both rounded the car pointing weapons at the sound. Both clenched their jaws tight, all while they simultaneously shouldered their weapons. They dropped a knee next to the boy, blood bubbling out of his abdomen, lifted him up until his lower torso dropped to the ground. Yelping, the boy closed his eyes and dove into the long sleep. "Better that he died you know," he rationalized his thoughts and tucked away his emotions.

"We need to move," Perception grabbed Jarod all while another explosion rocked Barrier Court.

No Soldier Left Behind

"No soldier left behind" Paula Poundstone says in the most recent episode of "Real Time With Bill Maher." So, what do we leave behind? Seems that the most dialogue in public life is about "the war." So, it's my turn to make a subject about this "war."

What about the underfunded schools in our nation? You know what they say, the children are our future? Seems that we need better funding, and better education. So what, we have "security," this plausible and invisible barrier between profane life and violence. I really do think "security" is needed; however, there are more important things to worry about. So these new Republican candidates are, very interesting.

So a few of the candidates, I think two, believe in evolution. Two, the rest think a great man created us. That's okay, but Mitt Romney, who is Mormon, believe in "family values." This is coming from a country where the divorce rate is in the 60% range. Scary, so over half of marriages are going to the dump, but we worry about gays ruining the sanctity of marriage. Another large portion believe in the increase of military strength. I guess that's because we feel that we need to have political strings in every country in the world.

All I have to say is the military industrial complex causes all of this. Around the time of when Eseinhower left office, and he called the complex out and said we should 'not let it take over.' However, it has and war is ultimately profitable. You know how many smart bombs hit their targets? Out of 96 bombs, one hit. Yup. You need to watch "Why We Fight." A brilliant documentary on, well, "Why We Fight."
So to wrap up this random rant, I'll say this: We need better education and to stop worrying about what every other country does. You know how well getting into other's business is going. Hmm, "The War."

So an Experiment with the Life

So, here we are at the wall. "Doesn't mean we can't try Jackson?" The boy asks, irritated by my presence.

"So an experiment has arisen for myself." I say, as I think quickly to come up with something else.
"What Jackson, an experiment?" He sits, head in hands, looks up and gazes."Why yes, mad science you know? Messing with those nuerons." I go on thinking of ways to go about this. Ah, Kelly Baker the other contributor, she recommended this for me.
"So how do we get around this wall?" He asks in vain. As I make him realize there is no getting around.
"Climbing. The only way, Kelly's going to help me." I look over, as she sits across the room staring at me.
Kelly goes on to say, "yeah, we think alike." Ah, good play my dear . My mind races to think of the next thing to say. I make it up.
"Yeah, this is an experiment. One to commit and challenge each other to having short falls, success, failures." I view her with those challenging blue eyes, as they never give in to anything. Except maybe love.
"I'll win you know," accepting this challenge she gazes on. "I always do Jackson, rowers always win." That smile gives me a wink, she disappears into the dark.
"Wow, a competition? Didn't know that, I'm not competing." I wonder, as the boy who is now silent goes with Kelly, why telling about life is a challenge. "Guess it is hard." One ponders about telling about a journey that is so great, that not even a story can capture it. I guess I'll try. I walk into the dark, following Kelly and the boy thinking and pondering for my next story.

My First, Feels Like My Last

I'm waiting for my real life, to begin. This is unrealistic, this college life. This whole idea of my life being just a big large party all of the time. It's wasteful wouldn't you think? I don't have reserve anymore towards some people I know.

No Reserve

I don’t move

To drink strong

Nor

Leave myself

With headaches

Anymore;

Sipping

Instead of

Swallowing,

The age shows

Things, once important

Hold no recognition,

Not to impede your

Happiness

Don’t want you

Thinking

I’m impressed with you now,

But this age comes to me;

Clarity

In what must come next

Hits

Life will move along

However

The thought controls:

What will the world think?

Nothing of you,

Sorry

But the grand schemes

Hold no reserve

Or power

Anymore

Life will move along

However

The thought controls:

What will the world think?

Nothing of you,

Sorry

But the grand schemes

Hold no reserve

Or power

Anymore