I've been half working on this for a long time. It's not horribly long, but it's about as long as my writing gets (that's a complete lie). I actually have just been writing it on and off, and finally got bored of it, so I wrote the ending. The story of my life. So here it is....
Doubt
The fire danced behind her closed eyes with spots of purple contrasting the violent flames. She opened her eyes again and took a long drag from the cigarette in her hand, then stabbed out the cigarette on her arm. A gasp, the sting, and then it was over.
Life sucks, she mused, wishing she had another cigarette to ease blows that she should have seen coming. Staring out at the waves it looked like each one was beckoning her, but at the same time warning her away from the vast emptiness of the ocean. She could hear the cars rushing behind her, but she found that for the first time she didn’t care who was driving behind her, wondering what she was doing, sitting on a bridge staring off into the horizon. Damn it, she couldn’t even see the horizon, another sharp reminder of how far she had gotten off track with her life.
She had always wanted to be an individual, unique, and different from those around her. All that got her was an identity that was wonderfully boring and exactly the same as every poser who walked down the streets, because in reality, they were all posers, trying to manipulate life so that it fell into their own hands, trying to play hide-and-seek with fate. Hell if they didn’t realize at some point or another that it was useless trying to play hide-and-seek, because fate didn’t have to seek. It was carried around in your pocket every day, and didn’t wash out with soap and water.
Fate was what told her to become an artist. It was what told her that she would be successful, rich, and famous. At least, that’s what should have happened. In reality, she had been blind to fate’s actual intentions, making them fit her own parameters. And thus, fate had caught up with her, leaving her with almost no money to her name, no house to call her own. Fate had left her eating off the McDonald’s Dollar Menu every day, and at nights, sleeping on the floor of the room she was renting, but couldn’t afford furniture for.
She didn’t quite know when it had become too much for her to handle. For a long time she had just been following routine, so it wasn’t too much pressure. But the routine had also created an aura of meaningless existence, which soon enveloped her in an uncomfortable blanket of worthlessness. Her life no longer had a direction, a goal, or a point. But they were all the same thing, because when having a direction there had to be an end, a goal, and to have a goal there had to be a point.
Biting back tears was pointless now, so she let herself cry, first out of sorrow, then out of anger, and then just because it felt good. What did it mean now to be strong, and hold back the tears. What did it mean now to grin and bear it, to suck it up. Nothing, it meant nothing, because there was nothing left to bear. No more weights on her shoulders, not allowing her to continue with her life in peace. No more anything, because the decision was made.
Standing up, she looked back towards the waves. They only looked beckoning now, no warnings in the shadows of the white crests. Climbing over the railing, she heard a car behind her screech to a stop, and wondered with a smile if they were stopping for her. She was over the railing now, but still holding on to it, waiting for something, but she didn’t know what. Five minutes passed in silence, until she heard the murmur of a crowd behind her. It was now or never. She let go of the railing. There was the faintest flicker of doubt. A gasp, the sting, and then it was over.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Religion...is useless (for lack of better wording)
I haven't written anything new in a long time, thanks to my preoccupation with the stupid para entregars for Spanish that I haven't done. But the good news is, I am working on them right now (in between writing this post). The even better news is that I have some older writing that I might as well post, because I am rather fond of it. So, here is an essay that I wrote a little while ago for English class. As a summarization if you aren't going to read it, it is a criticism of religion, in response to an essay by Salman Rushdie.
Religion is considered by many a necessity to life. But Rushdie disagrees, and I disagree along with him. Religion is not a necessity, because it does not contribute value to life. It is not successful in uniting people, in fact it is only successful in separating them. It is true that all members of a certain religion do have some bond, but it is also true that they lack this bond with members of another religion. Why stratify society more than it already is? To make matters worse, some religions consider themselves above other religions, better people, with a better God. They also try to convert other people to their religion. In all, this causes more trouble than there would be if religion was non-existent.
On the other hand, there should be no boundaries to belief, and I disagree with Rushdie’s idea that a greater being does not exist. He states: “They didn’t get it right. There was no celestial churning, no maker’s dance, no vomiting of galaxies, no snake or kangaroo ancestors…” (518). But he offers no alternative to these beliefs. He offers no “right” answer, and in this he negates his argument. People don’t believe in these stories because they actually consider them possibilities, but rather because there is a need for explanation, and a thirst for knowledge about how we did come to be. So, if we cannot find the true explanation, we settle for stories, which do not only exist to explain, but also to entertain.
But while there are no boundaries to belief, there can be no religion. Religion sets these boundaries by stating in firm law that these specific rituals must be completed, that those specific prayers should be recited, and in general, that this God should be believed in. Perhaps it would be alright if people could choose which God to believe in, which religion to believe in. But more often than not, we are born into a set of beliefs, and blindly follow them until they become our reality. We have no opportunities to step out of the cycle, and find out for ourselves what truly is and isn’t. Rushdie is right in saying that when you are not trapped by a set of beliefs, “at once the sky’s the limit” (519). Once you are not guided and spoon-fed by parents and the community of loving but smothering adults around you, opportunities are endless.
I also agree with Rushdie’s idea that some religions are too radical. It is even possible to take it a step further by saying that being a religion, all religions are too radical, because they offer no escape from traditions that have lasted centuries. They seek to change the world with what they offer, but they all offer these ideas, so it is impossible to know which one is right. To make matters even more confusing, every religion proposes itself as the right religion, either through violent force, or through subtle messages. Some religions are more obvious than others in doing this. Islam is known for being a more forceful religion than many, Muslims known for being strongly set in their beliefs. But Buddhism and Hinduism on the other hand are more peaceful religions, preferring to allow other religions to coexist with them without putting up a fight. However, they still project themselves as the “correct” path to choose, in fact using their peaceful approach as propaganda.
There is no right or wrong to an argument to which there is no correct answer. Each person must see for themselves which side they choose to take. As for me, I choose a path in the middle, to believe in a greater being, but not to constrict myself to only one way of believing. I don’t choose a religion, but rather just believe for the sake of belief, and not for the benefit of my family or my community. I would rather believe for the benefit of myself.
RELIGION
Religion is considered by many a necessity to life. But Rushdie disagrees, and I disagree along with him. Religion is not a necessity, because it does not contribute value to life. It is not successful in uniting people, in fact it is only successful in separating them. It is true that all members of a certain religion do have some bond, but it is also true that they lack this bond with members of another religion. Why stratify society more than it already is? To make matters worse, some religions consider themselves above other religions, better people, with a better God. They also try to convert other people to their religion. In all, this causes more trouble than there would be if religion was non-existent.
On the other hand, there should be no boundaries to belief, and I disagree with Rushdie’s idea that a greater being does not exist. He states: “They didn’t get it right. There was no celestial churning, no maker’s dance, no vomiting of galaxies, no snake or kangaroo ancestors…” (518). But he offers no alternative to these beliefs. He offers no “right” answer, and in this he negates his argument. People don’t believe in these stories because they actually consider them possibilities, but rather because there is a need for explanation, and a thirst for knowledge about how we did come to be. So, if we cannot find the true explanation, we settle for stories, which do not only exist to explain, but also to entertain.
But while there are no boundaries to belief, there can be no religion. Religion sets these boundaries by stating in firm law that these specific rituals must be completed, that those specific prayers should be recited, and in general, that this God should be believed in. Perhaps it would be alright if people could choose which God to believe in, which religion to believe in. But more often than not, we are born into a set of beliefs, and blindly follow them until they become our reality. We have no opportunities to step out of the cycle, and find out for ourselves what truly is and isn’t. Rushdie is right in saying that when you are not trapped by a set of beliefs, “at once the sky’s the limit” (519). Once you are not guided and spoon-fed by parents and the community of loving but smothering adults around you, opportunities are endless.
I also agree with Rushdie’s idea that some religions are too radical. It is even possible to take it a step further by saying that being a religion, all religions are too radical, because they offer no escape from traditions that have lasted centuries. They seek to change the world with what they offer, but they all offer these ideas, so it is impossible to know which one is right. To make matters even more confusing, every religion proposes itself as the right religion, either through violent force, or through subtle messages. Some religions are more obvious than others in doing this. Islam is known for being a more forceful religion than many, Muslims known for being strongly set in their beliefs. But Buddhism and Hinduism on the other hand are more peaceful religions, preferring to allow other religions to coexist with them without putting up a fight. However, they still project themselves as the “correct” path to choose, in fact using their peaceful approach as propaganda.
There is no right or wrong to an argument to which there is no correct answer. Each person must see for themselves which side they choose to take. As for me, I choose a path in the middle, to believe in a greater being, but not to constrict myself to only one way of believing. I don’t choose a religion, but rather just believe for the sake of belief, and not for the benefit of my family or my community. I would rather believe for the benefit of myself.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
The Gates of Hell
Slowly, he approached the gate that was wreathed in fire, he could feel the heat from where he was standing. Just beyond it he could make out the people (were they people?) arising from sleep, and getting up from their beds of nails. A horned demon awaited his arrival eagerly, with a list ready in hand, to check off his name. For these were the very gates of hell.
He desperately tried to remember all the sins he had never confessed, but could not think of any. Was God not listening to his confessions? Had he not been forgiven? He had recited countless verses in hopes for forgiveness, but now it all seemed pointless. He reached the gate.
“What’s your name?”, the demon asked, as rudely as he could. But buried in his thoughts, Ashraf didn’t hear him.
“Your name!” the demon shouted again.
“Ashraf” he stated with confidence he did not feel.
The demon flipped through his list quickly, then scanned it again slowly. Ashraf watched his tiny red eyes repeatedly look over the piece of paper.
“It’s not here! Your name isn't here.” Ashraf glanced up in surprise.
“You're in the wrong place, aren't you? You're supposed to be up there.” He pointed towards the sky, where for the first time Ashraf noticed there was a small circle of light. As if on cue, a staircase descended, and without any questions, Ashraf began climbing towards the heaven where he knew he belonged.
Monday, February 25, 2008
The HAPPY Post
Yes folks, you read that right. My blog is turning into a Wanda. No, that's a complete lie. My blog will still be exactly the same as it's always been, with the exception of this post. For once in my life, I am inspired by something that isn't completely and utterly depressing. So, I give you a list, no ordinary list, a list of life's best feelings. May we always ignore how painful life is.
1. The feeling when you hit an overhead, and the racket connects so perfectly with the ball, sending vibrations up your arm, and the tennis ball goes slamming down on the court, with no possible way that your opponent could return it. For those of you not tall enough to slam dunk (most of the world's population), you should try out this feeling, it's pretty much as good.
2. A nice, steep slope, with no moguls, waiting for you to speed down on your skis, and you can hear the wind rushing through your ears, and you are blissfully ALONE.
3. The stoned feeling you get after an hour spent listening to music, and doing nothing else. Then you walk around for like three hours, not knowing where you are. Best. feeling. ever.
4. When you wake up, squirm around for a bit, look at the clock, and realize it's 1:00 in the afternoon, then freak out until you realize it's Saturday. SATURDAY.
5. The simple pleasure of looking at the TV menu and noticing that three or more of your favorite shows are on right after one another, syncing up perfectly.
6. The feeling I, you, and 50% (or more) of the world gets when looking at Johnny Depp.
7. Realizing that you have all your homework done, and you didn't slack at all. Then you notice that it's only 8:30, and you do a little happy dance and immediately hop on the internet.
8. When you remember that it's Sunday, and you run to the computer to check the updated PostSecret.
9. Finding a new, GOOD, band. So jokes.
10. The fuzzy feeling you get when someone gives you a genuine complement. Like telling you that you are very pretty. I wish that happened to me more often.
Well, this is all for now. I will possibly make another one, since there are *gasp* a number of happy things that I didn't put on this list. Isn't that strange? I spend all my time writing depressing things, and then come to the realization that there are good things about life. Siiiiigh....
1. The feeling when you hit an overhead, and the racket connects so perfectly with the ball, sending vibrations up your arm, and the tennis ball goes slamming down on the court, with no possible way that your opponent could return it. For those of you not tall enough to slam dunk (most of the world's population), you should try out this feeling, it's pretty much as good.
2. A nice, steep slope, with no moguls, waiting for you to speed down on your skis, and you can hear the wind rushing through your ears, and you are blissfully ALONE.
3. The stoned feeling you get after an hour spent listening to music, and doing nothing else. Then you walk around for like three hours, not knowing where you are. Best. feeling. ever.
4. When you wake up, squirm around for a bit, look at the clock, and realize it's 1:00 in the afternoon, then freak out until you realize it's Saturday. SATURDAY.
5. The simple pleasure of looking at the TV menu and noticing that three or more of your favorite shows are on right after one another, syncing up perfectly.
6. The feeling I, you, and 50% (or more) of the world gets when looking at Johnny Depp.
7. Realizing that you have all your homework done, and you didn't slack at all. Then you notice that it's only 8:30, and you do a little happy dance and immediately hop on the internet.
8. When you remember that it's Sunday, and you run to the computer to check the updated PostSecret.
9. Finding a new, GOOD, band. So jokes.
10. The fuzzy feeling you get when someone gives you a genuine complement. Like telling you that you are very pretty. I wish that happened to me more often.
Well, this is all for now. I will possibly make another one, since there are *gasp* a number of happy things that I didn't put on this list. Isn't that strange? I spend all my time writing depressing things, and then come to the realization that there are good things about life. Siiiiigh....
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Mix and Match
A little break from my series, since, as usual, I'm feeling uninspired to finish what I started. Here is a little game I played, mix and match song lyrics. Songs are at the bottom, you can guess what is from which song. And maybe I'll throw in a line or two of my own, just to leave you guessing at how much of a genius I actually am.
As morphine tears through deadened veins
I'm numbing in these days,
Safe outside my gilded cage
A wraith with an angel’s body.
A demon with a smile of gold.
Velvet burns,
The wrists while restraining
With an ounce of pain
I wield a ton of rage
One at a time, conscious becomes surreal
Damning evidence to the depths of hell
Parched throats, cry me a river
She walks the line into her deathbed rings
Steal the glamour from death,
And before you die,
Just like suicide
Call the angels.
This razor blade was meant for me
Call the angels.
We'll mutilate insanity
Songs:
Bleed Black - AFI
The Missing Frame - AFI
Kiss and Control - AFI
We Sleep Forever - Aiden
Bleeding Mascara - Atreyu
Like Suicide - Soundgarden
As morphine tears through deadened veins
I'm numbing in these days,
Safe outside my gilded cage
A wraith with an angel’s body.
A demon with a smile of gold.
Velvet burns,
The wrists while restraining
With an ounce of pain
I wield a ton of rage
One at a time, conscious becomes surreal
Damning evidence to the depths of hell
Parched throats, cry me a river
She walks the line into her deathbed rings
Steal the glamour from death,
And before you die,
Just like suicide
Call the angels.
This razor blade was meant for me
Call the angels.
We'll mutilate insanity
Songs:
Bleed Black - AFI
The Missing Frame - AFI
Kiss and Control - AFI
We Sleep Forever - Aiden
Bleeding Mascara - Atreyu
Like Suicide - Soundgarden
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Here you are...
Here is the next story. You may have to wait a while after this for the next stories, because I haven't actually written the next stories. I've kind of run out of ideas for extremities, so if you have any ideas, please tell me.
Too Scared
I know that there are people who lie awake at night and toss-and-turn and can’t go to sleep but really I can’t help them so why try? After all, if I let my thoughts get to me I probably would be just as scared as they are, which makes it hard for me to help them when they ask for it. They need to learn to block out those thoughts and to numb themselves to everything around them I don’t care how. There aren’t any reasons to be scared unless you think about the next day and the light shining into your eyes and blinding you in the morning or maybe just the darkness swallowing you up in your sleep as soon as you close your eyes.
Too Scared
I know that there are people who lie awake at night and toss-and-turn and can’t go to sleep but really I can’t help them so why try? After all, if I let my thoughts get to me I probably would be just as scared as they are, which makes it hard for me to help them when they ask for it. They need to learn to block out those thoughts and to numb themselves to everything around them I don’t care how. There aren’t any reasons to be scared unless you think about the next day and the light shining into your eyes and blinding you in the morning or maybe just the darkness swallowing you up in your sleep as soon as you close your eyes.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
And then...
The next one:
Too Bad
Some people just look bad to me, I hate to use stereotypes but ever felt like you can see through that bag and just know, just know that there is some kind of weapon in there? Ever felt if you talk to them they will turn around and kill you with just the look in their eyes, and next morning the news will be telling everyone that you were found dead on the sidewalk with no signs of damage. Pop you were gone, just like that, you were gone. And that person, that bad person would walk away, maybe laughing, thinking that they got away with murder. And they did.
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