This father had made a few mistakes in his life but he loved and nurtured his daughter. One night, he put the pretty little girl to bed and that was the last time he ever saw her. He and his daughter lived in a run-down trailer on the west coast of Florida where he eked a living as best he could. There was no mother in the picture.

Imagine his horror, when he found his child missing the next morning. He called the police immediately and of course, they accused him of being responsible for whatever had happened to her. He was absolutely devastated and insisted that the authorities expand their net to search the immediate area to try and find his daughter. This tragedy had immense media coverage with the father pleading for the return of his daughter. Finally, they investigated a neighbor who had a record of being a sex offender. It turned out that he had dragged the child to his own trailer where he abused her and then buried her in his yard.

The overcome father spent time grieving for his tremendous loss and then began to campaign for children’s rights against sex offenders. He was on all the national shows pleading for help in his campaign to rid the country of these heinous individuals.

I watched the tragedy unfold and felt such grief for this unfortunate father who was only guilty of loving his child. Because of this, I began painting a portrait of the man and his child and sent the painting to him. He was so happy to receive this remembrance of his little girl. I painted this not only for him but for me because I had incorporated his loss so deeply into my heart. His story faded into the background but I have never forgotten the crushing events. I hope that he cherishes the portrait of his little angel.

"GOD-DAMMIT!"

A string of curses flew out of his mouth as he tried to hop his way over to his easy chair. His tie askew, he held his foot in one hand while he ran his other through his wild tangle of hair. He stared at his undecorated room, complete with a beat up mattress and a threadbare sofa, and wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was doing. He barely managed to make rent this month, he was still eating an all ramen noodle diet, and still needed his parents to pay for his phone bill. Basically, he was still living like a college student. He had had this job for a while now and he was getting nowhere with it. With a sigh, he resigned to the only option he had left. He would take up his parents' offer. He was logging into his email to respond to their message when he saw it. A new message. Opening it, he saw a name he hadn't heard in years.

"Dear Mr. Williams,

Hi! It's been a while! I just wanted to thank you so much. I just got my acceptance letter for Princeton and I honestly couldn't have done it without you. You were definitely the best English teacher I've ever had. I was hoping you would be able to attend my graduation ceremony on the 21st? Thanks again for everything!

Sincerely, 

Robyn Smith"

A smile spread over his face as he declined his parents' offer. He finally remembered why he had decided to become a teacher.

     So, I fell out of bed today, and my head throbbed like I'd finished a liter of Tennessee Jack all to myself. I took a look at the time on my phone, and I was surprised the alarm hadn't gone off yet. (Time...time?...time! What's the point, really? It's only another way of enslaving humans in their routine! How much has the concept of time caused us unnecessary pain? Wait...why am I even thinking about this?) I cursed as I noticed ten messages on my phone. I held the phone up to my ear, and was instantly soured by the content of the texts.

"Hey Mike, this is Jim, and Pete. We were wondering what your doing. We're really bored, and tired of playing Call of Duty. Wanna go to the bar?"

"Hi Mike, this is Rachel. I know it's late, but I thought if your not doing nothing we could Netflix and chill?"

"Hey, this is Tim your cable installer. I just wanted you to know that you can get an upgrade on your premium channels if you only pay an additional fee of 12.95 a month...etc."

"Hello sir, this is Lisa, I just wanted to let you know about the Caribbean Cruise you've just won! Please give us a call, and have your credit card ready, so we can identify you as our winner!"

All idiots, and so invasive! Were these people really friends and acquaintances that I gabbed with day in/day out? It seemed so impossible, and the need for my 'smart-phone' seemed to tirelessly evade me. What was the point if this damned gadget allowed time wasting games like 'FarmVille'? I ran downstairs, and out onto my back porch where I angrily began to smash my phone to pieces on the unyielding floor of polished stone. I didn't even realize that my roommate Nick was there, observing me while he puffed his cigarette.

"Why the Hell did you do that, Mike?," Nick asked with a shock.

"Oh, hey, didn't realize you were here. My phone just seems so irritating today, I can't understand why I've had the damn thing for so long." 

 I stated all this rather stoically, while on hands and knees I continued to smash the device methodically until there was absolutely no hope for it's recovery. After thoroughly disabling the piece of garbage, I brushed my slacks off, and stood up.

"Don't you got to go to work? I thought you had to open Jet's Pizza today."

                                                                      *

On the way to the awful grind that Nick so aptly reminded me of, I was struck by all the nauseating eye-sores on the highway. The sheer magnitude of these billboards was such, that I had to pull off to the side of the road, almost hitting an old lady driver in the process. Why should mankind always have these mountainous ads for products leering at him/her while on the way to work? It just seemed deeply depressing, these smug faces that nobody knows trying to sell a person things in order for them to achieve the superficial happiness that's portrayed by an overtly cheery actor. 

 As I returned to the road, another colossal hamburger ad whizzed by, and I found myself similarly distracted by the presets of radio stations I had selected. I suddenly had a hankering for something different, and tried desperately to surf through the flood of over-excited, misogynist shock-jock bile, and neoconservative brainwash, (not to mention liberal PC culture that was just as harmful to society as was the evangelical christians who planned with glee to revel in the corpse of a destroyed world as long as it got them to heaven faster!) to find an oasis of classical music that my mother once played for me in my youth. I never liked it then, and I couldn't understand what drew me to it now. Here I was, a diehard fan of 'Free Beer and Hot Wings', blasting Vivaldi and Bach like it was my bread and butter! In my reverie I didn't realize that I had missed all the exits that would bring me swiftly to Jet's in time to open for the day.

When the fog of contemplation finally wore off, I realized that I was parked on top of a parking lot bumper, with a magnificent view of the lake. I stared at it's placid beauty, and felt very alone in the world. I wondered why I was experiencing so many changes of heart in just one day. How was a man with so many differing points of view from his own society expected to live in that society? I felt like I would need a lobotomy to enjoy what I once had reveled in so readily like a rutting pig.

Continuing to engage these darkly disturbing thoughts, and gazing out at the liquid, I was suddenly distracted by a loud whistle. It was my friend Terrance, and he had spotted me at the park. He strolled over to my car, and popped his fro inside.

"Hey, Mike, you going to the kegger tonight? What the hell you doing outta work today, anyway?"

"Thinking, Ter...I'm just thinking. Hey, have you ever noticed all those ugly endorsements out on the highway?"

"Not really. But whenever I see them Arby's commercials, I get hungry as Hell....Haha! 'We got the meats'...Love that shit!"

"Yeah, um, I was just thinking about something you talked about in the past. You still do those graffiti runs late at night where you tag buildings with that name you came up with...what was it?...Ghostkilla?...or was it something else?...whatever the case, do you still crawl on top of buildings, and scale fences and billboards just to get your message out there?..."

"Yea, yea. So what?," Terrance was leaning up against a tree near the car now. He had a blunt lit, and offered it to me after a long inhalation. I took a quick drag, and then continued.

"...Yea, so this world is intolerable with all the expectations it puts on us. To tell you the truth, I'm tired of only being a passive consumer. I'd like to fight back like you do, and subvert the oppressive media regime."

It was then for the first time that Terrance's face lit up. I must admit, I couldn't tell if it was from the delightful OG Kush, or my proposition. After what seemed like a lifetime, he turned from his casual pose by the tree, and handed me the roach with a smile.

"I'm down."

Since this momentous agreement, it's just been Terrance, and me, fearlessly mounted atop various placards, ads, and billboards that gaze brutally down on drivers each night during twilight hours. I'm poor as shit, and I barely find ways to feed and clothe myself, but I'm doing what comes natural. It has become Terrance's, and my aim to topple, and deprave every incorporated headline, and blatant form of product placement in this dried out burg of ours. I want to give the freedom back to the people, and so far making fun of the billboards, and using the power of comedy is the only way I can attempt to do so. Perhaps I have been 'cursed by wisdom', but I'm going to try to find benefit from this freak occurrence for as long as it so plagues me.

                                                          The End

"What are you doing?" The person next to me asked. I just woke up on a park bench in a strange place. Where the fuck am I? I look around. There are trees, and bushes, and over the trees are towering skyscrapers. Maybe Benjing? New York? Oh! I'm in London. There's Big Ben. How the fuck do I know that?

"Uh. Hello? Can you hear me?" A hand waved in front of my face. 

"Oh, sorry really. Hello Elle. This is London right? Sorry, I'm a tad bit lost," I said to her. Her crystal blue eyes grew wide in fear.

"How the fuck do you know my name? And yes, this London," she sounded confused and worried. Her straight blonde hair was down to her shoulder-blades, approximately 20 inches. How the fuck do I know that? How do I know any of this? My mind is a stream of numbers and letters and code. What is happening? Lets see. What is 352x678? Hard, right? It's 238656. I pulled out my slim smart phone and checked my work. Damn, it was right. How is my mind like this? 

"Sir. Are you okay? What's your name?" Elle questioned, and her smoky, wobbly voice pulled me out of my mind. She was right up in my face. Elle's eyes sparkled and danced in the sunlight. Strings of her blonde hair hung in her face. God damn Elle's beautiful. Oh shit.. What is my name? Connor, no, John? Nah. Oh! I got a good name. Asa, or Otto. Palindrome. I love them. I think I'll choose Asa..

"Call me Asa," I answered. "I know you are going to ask why I know your name, and why I don't where I am exactly. I don't know either. I can't remember anything before today, including my name. I chose Asa. Don't know why, but I did." Elle paused a moment, almost like she's processing the information. Her eye's widened again.

She grabbed her bag, and started to stand up. "I'm sorry, I just remembered I have an appointment," Elle walked away. 

I stood up and grabbed her arm. "I know you don't have an appointment. You are lying. Really, I know. I still don't how. Please help me." Elle stopped walking and turned around.

"Come with me. I'll take you to my apartment, but you need to lose the clothes," she whispered. 

"Why?" I looked down at my clothes and frowned. I looked normal.

"I'll explain it to you when we get to my apartment." She turned on her heel, and I followed her. Am I a fugitive? No, I can't be. Am I part of a mad experiment? 

Elle picked up her pace, and I jogged to catch up with her. "Where do you live?" I pestered. She sighed and shook her head.

"I live on Baker Street." She turned right, then left, and we reached a ladder. "Follow me." Elle climbed up the ladder, and through the window. Sitting down her purse, she grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants.

"Put these on," she demanded, and I turned around and slipped off my shirt I had on. I had abs. And buff arms. I never had these before, right? I ruffled my hair. Slipping of my shoes, I pulled down my pants. I slipped on the other ones, and turned around. 

"Did you always have that tattoo?" Elle asked.

"What tattoo? Where?" I questioned.

"On the small of your back. It looks like a tree in a circle. Possibly Celtic," she replied. A Celtic circle with a tree. My mind is running through a few possibilities. Probably the Tree of Life. I wonder what it stands for. Maybe a company, or a personal meaning, not that I can find any. My mind pulled up a bunch of different companies and meanings. Immortality? No. I am not immortal. Smart? Yes. Immortal? No. What about the company Saol? Saol translates to life from Irish. Are they based in Ireland? I need to research this company.

"What do you know about Saol?" I ask Elle. She sat there silent. "Well? Do you know anything?" Elle sighed.

She stood up and in her wobbly voice spoke, "I know too much about them. My father-" Elle pauses. "My father is the founder of that wretched place. I- I remember you. I recently came here to London. But when I was younger, my father, Peter, used my mother, my aunt, and his sister as mothers to young children to try to make them the smartest people in the world, and immortal. I have no idea if he succeeded. I was a test subject. His favorite. I was one of the two people that were most likely immortal. He had tattoos on each person for how likely they are to be immortal and very intelligent. The plain circle was for someone who was most likely immortal and above average intelligence. The Celtic knot for intelligence was put on the ones who were smart, but most likely mortal. And the Celtic Tree of Life was put on the average ones. You are the other one like me. I- we can't let him find out we found each other. Or that I can do this." She stopped talking and walked towards me. Elle put her hands on my face.

"I won't hurt you. I promise," she told me as she closed her eyes and focused. My mind went blank. Memories came flooding at me like a tsunami at a city. The gray boring bedroom colored only by a screen. Young Elle with blonde, curly hair and bright blue eyes. Running on a treadmill to the point of exhaustion. Doing collage calculus with Elle, Felix, Mark, and Sean as an 8 year old. Trying to escape that gray, cold prison, to be stopped and taken back just to be tested on again. The nice woman with brown curly hair and kind green eyes. The old, hard man with the cold gray eyes. Elle. I remember her! I open my eyes. Elle calling to me. Saying Dan. My real name is Dan? Daniel!

"I remember you Elle. My name is Dan," I said in amazement. How the hell can she do that?

"Yea, I was going to tell you, but instead I decided to do this instead," she adjusted her jacket. "I- I mess with the mind. I can make you remember something and the forget it." I can even speak to people in their minds. I stumbled back at the sound of her voice in my mind.

"I- I don't think I can do anything like that," I told her.

"I'm sure you can. You might just not have discovered it yet." Elle smiled in encouragement. Behind you. My mind spoke in warning. I turned around and there was nobody there. Be cautious, it spoke again. I felt a breeze by my shoulder. I reached out where it was and felt a warm shoulder. I grabbed it a scream came out.

"Felix Julio Mendes. Stop it right now," Elle commanded him. A man our age appeared.

"Hello Elle. Daniel," he nodded curtly at me. "It's too late for you to escape this time."

"I'm sorry I have to do this," a voice said to me. "Mark?" was the last thing I said before I passed out. 

I am Him, the Father, the Father of Earth, the Creator, the Maker. I am God

When I came into the universe, I became very bored. But first, it was very dark so

I needed a light. So that's when I created stars. Honestly, I giggled at the light

and the weird shape they had. So I touched one. And when I touched it all the thermal energy from the star came onto my finger and heated it up. Nah, let's just say that it burned. So, that was a bad idea. Well, Pro-tip! Do not touch the stars unless you are willing to get burned.

     After I made a couple of them, I made some sphere-shaped objects which I later called planets. They were amazing! I mean I'm really good at this creation thing. I quickly made more, and then I named them as if they were pets. They were Mercury, Earth, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto.  They were amazing!

     But I soon became in need of someone to talk to, someone to interact with. So I made Adam, my angel, my kid, my friend, and my son. Over the years, we talked, we played, and we enjoyed the universe. But what astounded him the most was the Earth. He loved it. Except, he thought it should have more stuff.      So I made trees, plants, animals, grass, clouds, and the blue sky. But he thought this wasn't enough. He wanted a garden to live in. So I made him the Garden of Eden. But he wanted someone else to talk with. So I gave him a girl. Yes, a girl. He named her Eve for the wonderful, beautiful evening. They loved each other like they were meant to be. I mean kids are confusing, right? Until the day, they disobeyed me.

      Eve, ate the apple from one of the trees when I said a million times not to! Kids, they never listen. A fire burned through my heart to see them disobey me. Of course, Adam got mad at me for yelling at his friend. He threw the world's first tantrum. He said they didn't need me, and they will leave forever.      Well, let's say those words broke my heart and as soon as they stepped out of the darn garden. They were away from my love which protected them from harm. As the years pass, I look back and see their amazing creations ( which I would have loved to help with if I wasn't up here ). My children are amazing. They built pyramids, rockets to the moon, and movies, some Oscar worthy, some eh. Japanese horror is not my thing. But that Nintendo is a genius! And now you can tell everyone how the world was actually made.

You are all alone...

Your vision is blurry, and all you can see clearly is a knife....

Covered in blood.

The strong pain coming from your arm goes into your body, and black surrounds you...

A light..... I see... A light...

I try to touch it, but it fades away....

End of part 1

 I am an old artist. I was living in no place, no time and no light. All I had was a paint pallet and a brush.

 Once, I perceived a white spot in the dark and I walked towards it.

"It's a semi circle" I said.

 I hurried and when I got closer I could see that it was a sphere: one semi sphere of black words and another of uninked papers. It was breathtaking and ostensibly what I was looking for.

 Feeling excited, I took my paint pallet to make all those meaningless words alive by giving them meaning.

"Ocean" was the first. I closed my eyes and imagined an endless blue. I picked a brush and started to shape my imagination on paper.

"Soil" was the next. I painted it in brown.

Then, "Plants"

"Green would be a perfect choice." I thought.

 I felt so tired and I needed to take some rest but that gloomy ceiling needed a light.

So, "Moon" and "Stars" were my next paintings.

I fell asleep over all those names. When I opened my eyes, it was still dark. I got the word on which I lay my head. It was "Sun". I painted it in bright yellow and hung it in the sky to light up the...the..."World".

 My world needed residents. I wanted to try something different , I added all colors together and I masterfully painted the "Man".

 Animals, Air, Years  Seasons...I painted all of them one by one.

 "Done!" I said while putting down my pallet and brush to relieve my shoulder. I took some steps backwards to watch them all from a distance. It was beautiful but all those colors seemed so colorless, there must have been something missing, the most important thing. 

Lost in thought, I saw there was one last word and one last piece of paper.

Holding "Love" close to my chest, I thought about the shape and color of love.

Edited by Gowaart 

There is a tall dark haired boy at school, whom I pass twice a day I never say a word to him nor him to me. He smells of a strong cologne, which he wears quite well, not too much not too little...Just enough. I always enjoy to see him, with the white smile that you would only see on a movie-star. He has a built figure with skin that has been kissed by the sun. He seems to be either a hockey player or a big hockey fan, I say this because he always has on something to promote Miami Hockey. He has eyes the color of a dark stormy night, which captivate you the second that you see them. I hear him talk from behind me and his voice very deep and calming, he one day was mad about a teacher and was telling his girlfriend about it and he didn't sound mad but his word choice mad it very clear that he was. I hope that one day I may have a conversation with this handsome, calm stranger so that I can be released from the spell that his dark mysterious eyes cast on my unprepared mind.

When i was little

My hidey hole

Was a special place

Where i was safe

From all the pain

And yelling and hitting

i couldn't stop

And curled up there

What i hoped was real

And a shining knight

All brave and fierce

(Me!)

Would save the day

From evil wizards and

Fiery dragons

That made the world

Unsafe for kids

The years passed

And I grew up

And learned the adult world had no place

For fantasies and hidey holes

So, unneeded

I shed them like

An old, used skin

And got on with the real, important work

Of life

But the hitting, screaming

Angry pain

Never, ever went away

And one day I saw

In my children's eyes

The fear and hurt

I knew from mine

Filled with horror

i fled back

To my hidey hole

All snug and safe

And as i lay there

Night after night

i imagined (other) shining knights

Who, brave and fierce

Would save the day

From evil wizards

And monstrous beasts

And hurting people

Just like me

A group of kids

Before me that I

C

Don't realize that I even

Exist.

For they only see in the border that is their social circle.

Good thing I stayed in the corner. Even if I were to try to speak to them they would not

Hear what

I have to say

Just because they perceive me as a

Kind of person who is considered as a

Loser.

Maybe I should ask to join in their conversation.

Not. If

Only there was a way that I could speak to these

“Popular” kids. I began to

Quarrel with myself. I

Rarely engage in any

Spontaneous acts. But

Today is a different day. Maybe they will

Understand that I am

Very much like them.

Who am I kidding?

X marks the empty spot in my soul,

Yearning to be accepted by everyone so that

Zen can finally be felt within me.