A Quiet Rebellion [A (Short) Short Story]

Home is where the heart is. His heart is in the city. From a distance, it stands as an artificial mountain tha bends the sunlight with glass and mortar. The buildings flaunt unique qualities, but are bound to conformity by their nature. The gears are always moving: shoes shuffle on the sidewalks, clouds roll overhead, the ambience of passing cars clashes with soft melodies. The music rises from a remote corner of this massive mountain where a true musician sits.

The man's appearance reveals his profession. Years spent dragging his fingers over the guitar's strings have left them rough and blistered. They are long fingers with more bone than flesh. The clothes he wears are ragged and ruined. They were once expensive, but now the cracked leather and tarnished buttons serve only to remind him of his prosperous past.

His eyes are tired from witnessing the never-ending changes of life. The hope they once held spilled out onto the pavement long ago. Now they stare straight ahead, not seeing anything while he is lost in thought. Strangely enough, he smiles quietly, a rebellion against his situation.

The sidewalk is his humble stage. His guitar leans gently against his body and is a part of him. Playing is automatic. A billboard across the way advertises a local music store. Games, shows, and merchandise with the musical motif have all appeared at one time or another. To him, it is all the work of pesky businessmen who prostitute beauty in the hope of third quarter gains.

This is where beauty lies. As always, authenticity goes unnoticed. The strings shake, propelling notes that he fashioned together, and they float on the breeze. His music flows through the city. It follows the bricks bodly, striking out to find an audience before being lost in the traffic.

Hey Look: A Poem!

I was taking a walk in this random place when I found this random poem written on a nearby wall written by this random person and signed anonymous. I thought I'd share it because, if nothing else, it made me think. I don't want to give my interpretation because I want to hear new ideas, but if anyone at all actually reads this and comments, I'll be sure to share my thoughts as well.

Have a Good Day.

The image of
Home floats by--

Freedom to move
Maybe a girl
Quiet and laughter
Sing the praises
Of each new day

Then I see
The picture fall away
Because it's flat
A cheap postcard
Taped to a bleeding wall
And someone
Breaks a drum in the hall
And screams in envy
Of the fresh and
Drying color on
The floor

Nonsense-bombs hit hard
And pound in
The ceiling
Not much time left
To look out
The window
But I do
Even though
It's been
Painted black

And behind me
My bleeding wall
Comes nearer

Viewfinder: California

I'm from the east coast, so traveling to LA was an experience, to say the least. It's hard to believe that such strange landscapes are just another part of this huge country that I know so well for its green forests and hills of the east. I still don't have a real sense of the distance since I flew, but the batty luxury of Hollywood came to life quickly. I never found a really quiet place during my visit. Even in the wilderness by the shore, the waves create a sound like highway traffic in the distance. I don't really know whether I could live there. (Thinking about having to choose a permanent residence at all gives me a claustrophobic feeling.)

So there it is: the paradiso of America. No wonder Californians are more relaxed.

Bleeding Hearts Are "In"

Non-profits are springing up like weeds. Or maybe they're just coming to light. . . Either way, the U.S. of A. seems to be on a mission to make the world a better place, or is that just the pretty slogan we like to wear across our t-shirts?

The environmental movement got things going several years ago. Those groups alone have been quick to place the environment above the importance of human beings, by the way. Many of my peers, if not all of my peers, have latched onto this movement with a death grip as well as being huge supporters of homosexuals.

By no means am I putting down either of these causes. The Earth should obviously be protected, but I don't believe the state of things is as terrible as some people say. We should also not discriminate against gays, but redefining marriage is a rather drastic undertaking. My point is that young people need to be a part of something that is bigger than themselves. Look at the 60s and the Vietnam War. Whether you were against the war or supporting it, no one really knew what was going on. Has anything changed since then? I see t-shirts for Darfur, for suicide prevention, for homosexual awareness, and for the planet, but many times the shirt is the most that that person is willing to do for the cause. Perhaps they simply don't know how to help.

At any rate, I fear that our obsession with doing good is just an extension of our long-lived goal: making ourselves feel better. Kids are flocking to a cause because everyone else is. Celebrities are doing plugs for charities, social media sites make it easy to show others how wonderful you are by "liking" a non-profit, and beloved characters in movies and on television are often the non-conformist weirdo.

In simple terms, being weird is hip. Not everyone is taking the bait. After all, someone has to represent the jocks and cheerleaders, but everyone else wants in on the trend. The effect is a bunch of empty suits waiting to be recognized for their non-existent efforts to put an end to [human trafficking/discrimination/pollution/eating disorders/low self-esteem/ignorance].

This isn't a criticism as much as it is a call to arms. If you're gonna stand for something, stand up and be ready to fight to the death for it if need be! Forget how great you look in Project RED shoes and take 5 minutes to find out if there is a way to volunteer. This isn't a parade for displaying your knowledge of the downfalls of society. Earn your colors.

To: Us Kids--The Doldrums

As a kid, I could never understand why adults hated winter so much. I would have done anything to secure a 4-5 inch blanket of powder to be used for sledding, forts, fights, etc. Now I'm just excited for spring. Thunderstorms, fresh air, and new growth are infinitely more appealing than this Winter Wonderland. Why?

If you have never read The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster, go buy it now (or, to be fair, you can also rent it from your local library). In this witty children's book, the Doldrums are a physical place, named after the general feeling of boredom and apathy. One arrives there by not thinking and leaves by doing the opposite. The inhabitants of the Doldrums lie around all day not doing anything in a style reminiscent of an 80's bike gang.

I am making this obscure reference because the Doldrums doesn't really exist for kids, but the rest of the human race knows it well. Kids get bored all the time, but since their goal is to have fun, boredom can disappear as quickly as it came. To them, something as simple as snow is a reason to rejoice. If it melts, no problem! Now they can play football, and baseball, and tag, and draw on the sidewalk. To adults, snow triggers only practical repercussions: the roads will be bad, the windshield will ice over, the driveway will need to be shoveled. Also, this time of year in general seems to stretch life out before our eyes in a single thread. Everything that is happening, has happened, or will happen, is clear, and not a bit seems interesting. This mundane state of existence threatens to last forever.

For the last two weeks, I have been sitting solidly in the Doldrums. Much of my time has been spent lying in bed, thinking about all the things that need to be done. Very few things give me the motivation to get up, one of which is hating not having anything to do. Part of the problem is the time of year. The dreadful winter weather is coupled by the concept that summer is out of reach. There are no major holidays for quite some time. Simply, there is no light at the end of the tunnel, or so it seems. Days and entire weeks blend together because nothing happens to make one stand out from another. One struggles through 5 work days, if not more, to reach the almighty weekend which ends up flying by in the blink of an eye. The cycle repeats ad nauseum.

I am mentioning all these depressing realizations in order to combat this growing mental sickness. Take heart, all you children of the Information Age! There will soon be (brief) salvation from this stretch of boredom and crippling monotony. It will arrive with the return of the sun and preside over the resurrection of all things green. Time, in its abundance, will be wasted without care. Worries will be distant annoyances that can be put off until tomorrow. We will wonder how we ever forgot the art of relaxation. And the breeze! The breeze will knife through the branches, creating that beautiful white noise of nature that we have been craving since the last leaf fell. We will take for granted the golden sunlight of the twilight hours and the pavement left warm from a day of heavenly light. And when the air goes cold again, the memories of these days will serve our warmth better than a thousand wood fires.

Random Tid Bit: Get Outside

During the winter months, it is instinct, even for animals, to stay inside and to keep warm. Luckily, I ignored this instinct over the past weekend with the aim of taking a stroll through an undeveloped area behind my house that could very well serve as a park. Because I have a large family and grew up in the suburbs, being totally alone is a rare experience. Being totally alone and surrounded by snow is even more so.

I guess awareness gets kicked up a few notches during isolation. I immediately began to look around more often than I normally would. After walking along the edge of a forest for ten minutes or so, I came to an enormous field. Besides four or so trees, there was nothing. I had a brief feeling of being in danger, though I was obviously not. Many trees lost branches or had fallen entirely from last year's "Snowmageddon" snowstorm. Walking past these felled trees was quite surreal. The eerie stillness all 'round only contributed. I suppose I was feeling the a sense of death. We all know that trees are "alive" in a sense, but that is difficult to feel when they are so common. But to see such a huge mass uprooted and rotting into the forest, that is when it seems most like a living thing. To imagine yourself next to any being of incredible size can be terribly intimidating. It is the feeling of being a helpless insect in a world that is not your own.

A short while later I came upon a strange tree in a corner of that same field. Around it were countless vines and nets of twigs, and in the center were several large branches bent at sinister angles and reaching outward. Some were only inches from the ground. I instantly pictured the structure as a nightmarish spider. Even in broad daylight, its surrounding brush gave it the appearance of a creature waiting in the jungle at night, all the while staring out at you.

Throughout the walk I was taking pictures left and right, as a tourist might while driving down the Vegas strip. It was exciting. My little trek made me think of the great explorers who really were seeing everything for the first time. But this thrill was accompanied by the longing for comfort. It must be a modern quirk to want to be home again so quickly.

To tie the knot of this simple and random tale, I highly recommend going outside. No, I do not mean shopping or sledding in the backyard (if you still do). Go out to some place where you can truly be alone. Even if it is only a city park, the biting winter air does good, if not only to spur a greater appreciation of a heated home. I am not an environmentalist in the popular sense. Yes, nature is an incredible gift and should be treated as such, but human life is also quite amazing and should not be disregarded for the sake of excessive preservation. But nature is an undeniable part of our very core. If we lose sight of that reality, we lose part of ourselves.

Soapbox Special: We Have to Learn? (Pt. 2-Kids)

No, this problem cannot be placed entirely on the shoulders of our educators. Learning requires both a teacher and a pupil. If one of the two is removed, learning does not occur. Now, there is surely not a shortage of students in America today, but are they true pupils?

This is the age of the well-rounded student. Colleges want students that have shown talent and interest in many different areas. Why? Do these schools expect freshmen to major in every subject? Not one bit. Colleges want to know that their students are open to new opportunities and that, if they have chosen a major already, they know their strengths and weaknesses. Unfortunately, being the all-around boy can be harmful for many. For example. . .

Growing up, I had a lot of free time. I spent it by reading, writing, thinking, talking to my family, or by doing nothing at all. I know that in certain situations this much downtime can lead to drugs, drinking, etc., but this time helped me to grow. The past few months have shown me what the life of the well-rounded student is like: Relaxation is difficult because you feel like you're wasting time. Everything is done quickly because there is so much to do. Sleep is harder to come by. Thought is tossed out the window since it weighs you down.

Guess which statement is the most critical. [Jeopardy theme music plays.] That's right! Absence of thought is more frightening than a modern horror film written by someone who should be in jail due to the content of the aforementioned movie. Before I rant out the wazoo on the importance of thought in general, I will focus on the effects it has on us whipper snappers in school.

Senioritis is a very real, very dangerous disease. It has affected both myself and many of my friends. This condition is similar to depression. The victim has little or no motivation to complete any sort of required task. Learning? Forget it. Informations is memorized because it has to be, and then it is forgotten as soon as possible. To continue my personal story, I used to be the "genius" kid from about 2nd grade until high school. Slowly, I started to discover what I actually enjoy doing, which is writing. By the time I reached my senior year, I couldn't stand to do anything else. I fought, and still fight, against the endless requirements because the result is a group of moody teenagers who only go through the motions. They don't care, especially if they have a passion for something completely unrelated.

The bottom line is the teachers are barely teaching, and the kids don't want to learn. Besides having everyone watch Dead Poet's Society, there needs to be a system overhaul. Exams should test understanding, not memorization. Courses need to focus on relevant aspects of each subject, if possible. Schools should at least try to nurture the strengths of its students. Until then, public education will continue to be the official sponsor of cheap, plastic achievements and pupil puppetry.