Selflessness is a delightful idea, a quality capable of transforming the world to a better place, but it’s impossible to obtain. No matter how much a person might sacrifice for the benefit of another, no act can be completley selfless. Take for example, a situation where a young man helps an older woman carry groceries across a busy street. The young man is already late for a meeting, exhausted, devastated by a recent break up, and wary of walking in heavy traffic, but helps anyways. On the surface, the act has a resemeblence to altruism; the older woman reaps the benefits of the interaction, while the man seemingly gains nothing. He didn’t receive a tip, given a thanks, or enter the beginning stages of a new friendship; he assisted and went on about his day. The older woman gained relief in a dicey situation and received assistance without any sacrifice.

However, the man and the act, is not altruistic or selfless. On a concious level, the man could be motivated for a variety of reasons. Perhaps he’s seen an accident in a similar situation, therefore he’s fearful of the potential outcome if he fails to assist. He remembers the intruding image of the previous accident, an image lingering in his mind to this day.

Or perhaps he’s never seen such an accident, but knows he’ll feel a miniscule sense of guilt in his gut if he just watches. The assistance he provides prevents that feeling from coming to fruition.

Maybe the man doesn’t acknowledge or have the capacity to feel guilt for a lack of inaction, but he knows what makes him feel good; helping others. He knows small sacrifices, like walking the older woman across the street, makes him feel positive emotions. Whether that be a feeling of importance, security, kindness, or just happiness, he benefits in some form.

Now, the motivation to assist others while sacrificing in some form solely for the purpose of positive feelings is admirable, but not selfless. The man may truly enjoy helping others, but the question becomes, why is it enjoyable to help others? Why is it important that another person is more comfortable or safe? The answer lies in the man’s past experiences and current state of mind.

It could be his recent break up has striped him with a sense of vulnerability, a vulnerabilty he sees, and can alleviate, in the older woman. It could be a subconcious awareness of the possibility to use the selfless act as a valid, worthy excuse for his boss when he arrives late. It could be a subconcious realization, based on past experiences with exhaustion, that acts of giving provide him energy. Or perhaps it could be he’s tired of not-so-irrationally fearing heavy traffic, spurring himself to action in the name of self-improvement.

Even if the man fails to recognize all of the above and is absolutely unaware of his emotions and motivations, the nurture of his life remains. The man has lived a life full of positive/negative reinforcement, punishment, observation, emotions, and teaching that led him to make his small sacrifice.

For a truly selfless act to occur, the giver must be free of past experience, ignorant of any pros and cons, and unable to gauge future feelings and consequences; all of which are impossible.

While altruism is a noble concept, a proof a person can be good, even better is the act of recognizing motivators. Recognize sacrificing for others is beneficial to yourself, and don’t feel guilty about why or that it exists, use it to sacrifice more often.

Life is about finding happiness without smiling all the time.

Life is about lettings tears flow when tears want to flow.

Life is about setting yourself up nice, to live in the moment.

Life is about gaining so much perspective that regret fades away.

Life is everything between the stars.

The blinding white light of the sun and the untouched, swirling snow snapped Apollo out of his negative thoughts. The room was atop of the massive facility, overlooking pristine mountains as far as the eye could see. Facing the door was a single, massive, curved window covering half of the circular room. The remaining walls, ceiling, and floor was all dark wood, giving the room a feeling of a cabin in the sky. The furniture was built for comfort and held enough spots for every individual in the facility.

Apollo and Hayes took a seat at a glass table by the center of the window, both melting into their chairs and leaning back in a subconscious effort to ease the nerves of their shared reality.

“So why am I wrong?” asked Apollo.

“Huh?”

“You said I was wrong about pursuing a less extreme option, I want to hear your

explanation,” said Apollo as he straightened his back and leaned forward, “Tell me why the whole world being put to sleep for a century is the answer.”

“There’s two ways to answer your request. The first is looking at the basic nature of all sentient life. Let me ask you this, Apollo, what happens to a caged animal?”

“I’m not sure what you...” Apollo started.

“We put an animal in a cage because we fear its behavior; we want to tame the aggressive nature of the beast. But what happens when that animal escapes or is released? More often than not, the life that comes out is even worse than the life that went in. More aggressive, fearful, paranoid, and worst of all, more unpredictable. The cage is a temporary fix to address our need to punish certain behaviors, but it only makes the situation worse when the cage is finally broken or removed.”

“I would hardly say limiting areas for people to live is a cage,” Apollo replied, “Plus that was just an idea off the top of my head.”

“You’re missing the bigger point. A cage isn’t always physical; in fact, the most destructive cages are mental. You can lock yourself in a cage that doesn’t even exist.” Apollo turned toward the mountains in a contemplative trance, guessing where

Hayes would go with his argument.

“You see Apollo, our society has developed in such a way that any attempt at

changing behavior is perceived as a cage. Humanity has become accustomed to dominating the environment and bending nature to fit any desire. Technology has raised the status quo to such a high level, individuals expect to get what they want and if they don’t, they lash out at the world and take any means necessary to fulfill their desire.”

“So you’re saying humanity doesn’t have the ability to change?” Apollo asked with a twisted face of disapproval, “And if you ask me, the machine is the most literal representation of a cage I can imagine.”

“Of course humanity has the ability to change, but it refuses to go backward. Humanity needs to grow, expand, and progress toward something greater. Humanity is selfish and that’s why we’re in the current situation. We still lack an understanding of the true definition of progress.”

“And the machine will create that understanding?” Apollo asked, finding himself increasingly critical of Hayes.

“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t disagree the machine is a temporary cage, but it manages the status quo to which we’ve become accustomed. The propaganda comparing the simulation to heaven and portraying it as a stepping-stone for long-term survival of a civilization was used specifically to combat the feeling of being caged up. In a way, it’s the only strategy to put ourselves and the planet first at the same time; we continue to live a life of consumption and nature is left alone to heal.”

“I’m still not buying your stance on the destructiveness of the cage. My best--” Apollo started.

“Here, let me show you something,” Hayes said as he stood and grabbed Apollo’s arm, “I think it’ll make more sense in a second.”

Hayes led Apollo to a door in the back corner of the room, again holding his hand open to invite Apollo to enter. As Apollo walked thru the door, Hayes slammed it shut, leaving him in the dark closet.

Apollo’s heart stopped for a brief second before lunging at the steel door and pounding once with a hard fist. Apollo knew what Hayes was trying to prove and he wasn’t about to let it happen, so he took a seat on the floor and remained silent.

Apollo focused on a response to Hayes’ words, confident in his ability to deconstruct his argument; this time in the cage will be beneficial. After several minutes, Apollo’s mind began to wander, wondering how long he would be in the dark or if Hayes was playing nice all along just to get him locked away. Several more minutes passed and Apollo found himself fantasizing about smashing his captor’s nose with a jab and putting him in a chokehold until he begged for mercy, apologizing for his mistake. He could feel his body warm and feet begin to sweat. Mid-fantasy, a click caused Apollo to leap to his feet and a huge ray of light filled the closet. Apollo maintained his composure and walked out with a smile.

“So, how was it?” Hayes asked with a grin and a light caress of Apollo’s back. “Just fine,” Apollo responded, “Wasn’t bad at all.”

“Yeah because it was ten minutes, but what if I left you in there for an hour, a

day, or a whole week?” asked Hayes, “Would you still be fine and organizing your thoughts toward progress?”

“Surely.”

Title: The Cage of Tomorrow

Genre: Science Fiction

Age Range: 14-Up

Word Count: Short Story=15,000 words/Longer work=100,000

Author: CeeOh

The Cage of Tomorrow revolves around the entirety of the human civilization hooking up to a digitilized existence to preserve the planet. Apollo, an intruder, breaks into the facility as the process is set to begin, meeting the scientists in charge of monitoring the operation. Over the course of the day, accompanied by several unforseen circumstances, Apollo inches closer to the crew and his own beliefs about humanity.

The target audience includes fans of dystopian futures, digitalized existence, and narrative heavy writing. On a broader scale, readers interested in a slower moving, philosophical science fiction.

I write under a pen name, but I'm 29 and located in Iowa. I attended Grinnell College and for most of my life I've only written academic papers while reading as little as humanly possible. *Enter pandemic* ...*Discover Star Trek*... Now I'm obsessed with science fiction/short stories and read as much as possible, because well, every piece I read seems brand new. I'm still plowing through the world of classic science fiction, so my writing is pretty limited to that slow style. I play basketball for a couple hours everyday and love summer almost as much as I hate winter. I'm shy and keep to myself as much as possible.

I'm not really scared of bad guys, even if they got good ties. I've had so many dark times silver linings line my eyes, I've lied, sayin' I'm fine so many times with an underline to my guys that my old lies are starting to align with the real guy, like I'm fine, plus sign. It's like when you fake smile and your inside combines with the fake try to bump the dopamine a little more high, and that's all sci without the fi, it's life. It means you can't always choose if you're low or high but you get to decide to climb or just slide and that's why they say live in the moment, right?

Taking a walk on a humid summer day, you're halfway to your destination when a complete downpour of warm rain surrounds you. You speedwalk and hunch your back in an attempt to stay dry. You walk on the heels of your feet to protect your shoes; your eyes are in a trance on the sidewalk to avoid puddles. At a certain point, the pace lessens, the back straightens, the clothes are drenched, and the eyes no longer search for puddles. There's no sense in trying to walk between rain drops, so you might as well soak up all you can.

Little Billy is tucked under his covers on the Eve of Christmas, using every ounce of his will to remail still and keep his eyes closed; Santa is coming and he needs to be a good boy.

Billy can hear updates from the Santa Tracker on the living room television; he’s almost here!

“Maybe this will finally be the year I see him,” Billy thinks, “I just need to listen for the reindeer on the roof!”

The Santa Tracker turns off and is replaced with slow, creaking footsteps getting closer and closer to Billy’s room; the excitement is too much and he opens his eyes with the purest of anticipations.

Billy shrieks as he finds Santa leaning over his bed a few inches from his face, staring directly into his eyes and smiling from ear to ear.

If I can be candid, I think your loneliness lowered your standards. Yeah, I'm hammered but thoughts don't change when you're faded, it just makes it easier to say it and I'm sayin' ... you break my heart on the daily and I hate it, are you playin'? Nobody can run forever is my statement and I know it's unrelated but your face right now is driving me a little crazy, I feel hazy. I promise I couldn't care less, but I hope you know I literally could not care more, I'm stubborn and push love away and me and my therapist don't know what the fuck for... What? Fore! I'm sorry that was kinda out of left field, I mean time heals all wounds but also got all the kills, so I'm happy to be just standing right here with you and these beers.