“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

The First Amendment to the US Constitution (as well as the next nine) is a negative right against the government, not you. The First Amendment to the US Constitution prohibits the government from establishing a state religion or restricting your free access to religion. That is the full extent (or at least should be) of government involvement with religion.

Should the citizens of this representative republic understand the extent of the First Amendment and then DEMAND that their elected representatives do so also, there would not be a problem with religion.

Should the citizens of this representative republic (and their elected representatives) understand that this constitutional restriction may not be altered by any amount of coercion, bribery, lobbying, promises, deals, favors, interference, or promises; there would not be a problem with religion.

Should the people who participate in religion understand that they cannot simultaneously participate in politics; there would not be a problem with religion.

Should the people who participate in politics understand that they cannot simultaneously participate in religion; there would not be a problem with religion.

Thus, if you follow the US Constitution, you may (or may not) freely worship God. You may (or may not) freely give money to your religion. You may (or may not) freely give of your time to your faith. It is really this easy.

However, if you decide otherwise, if you want to muddle the waters that history clearly demarcates as a "VERY BAD IDEA", there will be a problem, not with religion, but with you, using religion as a cover for your actions and your thinly veiled attempts at seizing power, influence, money, or all of the above.

Support a (not the) separation of Church and State. Keep the money in different accounts. Govern one and not the other. Find solace and comfort with God or without.

It really is this easy.

tell me a story

about a prince

and a peasant

who fell in love

a prince who likes to draw

and a peasant who likes to fight

each with their own interests

and each with their own battles

tell me a story

about a small boy

and a small girl

who fell in love

a boy who climbed a beanstalk

and a girl who sold him the beans

together they fight the mighty beast

and live happily ever after

tell me a story

about a boy with cancer

and a girl who took care of him

who fell in love

a boy who caught sickness

and a girl who wanted to take care of him

they fell in love

and then he died with a smile

tell me a story

about a fighter

and a princess

who fell in love

a boy who liked to fight

and the girl who changed him

they fell in love

and had three kids

tell me a love story

about people who change

and give me hope

that I can find love, too

I don't know what love is

but I know what it does

and maybe I want some of my own

to hold and remember forever

She knows all about timing,

the perfect time to enter,

the perfect time to play,

she is a violinist.

She didn't know when it was time to leave.

She knows all about gravity,

the force tethering you to the ground,

the ways to defeat it on your toes,

she is a ballerina.

She forgot that even stars fall.

She knows all about colour,

the perfect blend for that elusive shade,

the way green doesn't go with orange,

she is a painter.

She saw sunset and thought the green of the grass went with the orange sun.

But she forgot,

even sunset is fleeting,

and then you're left with darkness.

She knows all about mixing,

a pinch of that

a dabble of that,

and magic you have a cake

she is a baker.

But she forgot,

some things are just not meant to be,

some people just cannot go together,

and sometimes we make problems and not magic.

She knows all about why things work,

she knows why magnets attract,

why rain falls,

she is a scientist.

But she forgot,

that like poles repel,

and sometimes the why is impossible to know.

She knows all about feelings,

how the mind works,

and handling your emotions,

she is a therapist.

But she forgot,

that knowledge is not always enough.

She helped others and forgot to help herself,

burying her feelings lost in the world.

She knows about healing,

clean the wound,

and wrap it up,

she is a doctor.

But sometimes things aren't so simple.

So she sat,

the broken pieces in her hands,

waiting for someone to fix her heart.

Dear Me,

Sorry for all the time I wasted. Chasing after someone who has let me down. Looking back, I put you last. And him first, delighting in just a smile thrown my way.

I apologise for deferring your needs, ordering his favourite dishes, and not eating the food he found "absolutely disgusting"

I apologise for always taking his side, blaming you when he was angry.

I apologise for keeping quiet that day. When he hit you. Screams echoing only in your head.

I am sorry for putting you last. And give me time to learn myself.

But I promise you,

from now onwards,

you're first and foremost.

Sincerely,

Me

Obsession or passion?

Where does the line lie?

I knew he existed when he sauntered into the coffeeshop.

I knew I liked him when he ordered the exact same drink as me.

I knew his likings, when I saw his Star Wars keychains.

I knew where he lived, as I followed him back.

Silently, watching.

I knew so much about him.

But I still did not know what he would think of me.

And so, I will remain, silently sipping my cappuccino with extra whipped cream.

If passion is obsession,

I guess I’m obsessed.

I tend my garden from dawn to dusk, perfectly placed flowers in perfectly spaced rows. Dahlias, Daylilies and New England Asters. The fragrant blooms flourish in the rich soil. Not a stem out of place, not a weed to be found.

I care for my plants, I nurture them like a mother to her child. I whisper life into them, gently stroking their delicate petals, taking great care as I bring my nose to them and inhale their intoxicating aroma.

The key to a successful garden is healthy soil, you see. I have tried a variety of methods to perfect my soil. Spent countless hours conducting my research. You really never can do enough research when it comes to something like gardening.

I spend hours upon hours every single day in my beautiful little garden. It brings me great joy as I watch it grow. I feel practically elated with each new bloom that sprouts. Tending the soil is perhaps my favorite task. Occasionally my trowel will snag a finger, or a toe. I just ever so carefully tuck those right back into the earth and continue my work. There is always so much to be done.

The key to a successful garden is the soil, you see.

Everyone talks about how they're currently 'obsessed' with a new thing. Be it a show, movie, celebrity, band, or whatever. The word 'obsessed' has been watered down and misused, shoved into the media-friendly hole cut out by society and studio executives.

No one remembers, or at least talks about, how terrifying and all-consuming real obsession is.

Those who don't talk about it would prefer that people forget. They want people to forget what it feels like to dive headfirst into something that eats away at you at every passing moment, because they feel as if that type of symbiotic relationship is too terrible to acknowledge. Whenever they talk to someone who uses the word to describe their latest interest, they force a smile and a chuckle as flashes of their past actions in the name of their definition of 'obsession' briefly appear before being shoved back into the space in their mind they never talk about.

As a self-proclaimed reformed obsessive, Tris hadn't found himself in this situation for quite some time now. It took him a long time to claw out of the very deep pit he had dug for himself, and he never wanted to feel that way again. He prided himself on how far he had come since the last incident that made him realize how unhealthy it was for him.

"Right," he muttered to himself, "everyone relapses. Doesn't mean my progress was all for nothing. This is the first in years. I should be proud of myself."

The last of the cement that was holding the brick in place finally gave way, allowing him to remove it and awkwardly contort his body to slip through the hole. He just barely managed to stop his foot from slipping off the table he had forgotten was there. Once through, he hopped off the table and surveyed his surroundings.

Last he saw of this basement, it was still in use, but now everything was covered in dust, from the shelves lined up against the wall next to the stairs to the little work space. Even the stainless steel tables that used to be lined up were now stacked on top of each other against the corner to his far right. It looked like no one had been down there in ages.

It was perfect.

He quickly made his way up the stairs to make sure the door was locked before going back down and retrieving the bag he had left outside. As quietly as he could, he set up and wiped down one of the steel tables before emptying the bag of its contents. The objects clattered softly as they landed. Tris quickly surveyed the items before discarding the bag and picking up a little green box. Its surface glinted against the stray beam of moonlight that shone through the hole he had made, revealing faded inscriptions that ran across it. Tris never found a way to decipher them, but all he needed was for it to work so it never mattered to him.

He ran his finger across the inscriptions slowly, following the ridges and divots while focusing on what he wanted and hoped the box could give him. What he read on it said that it could, but he had encountered multiple fake artifacts claiming the same before he found this one. After he had traced over the last letter, he opened his eyes to see the box start blinking. He placed it on the table and hopped onto it, sitting cross-legged and trying to rein his excitement in.

Soon the blinking stopped, and the box glowed softly as a little hatch opened up at its top and started beaming a soft green light. The light flickered and glitched, before stabilizing. Tris waited a few minutes before a shape started forming in the light.

A low, gravelly voice sounded from somewhere on the box. "Who are you?"

"Tristram Cornélie. My friends call me Tris." He grinned.

The shape started becoming more clear, as if it were slowly approaching what Tris now assumed was a screen. "How did you get this artifact?"

He sheepishly grinned. "I, uh, dug through the trash behind the museum?"

"How do you even know this exists?"

"Listen, I didn't throw most of my life and all of my relationships away not to know something like this exists. Now, I told you my name. What's yours?"

It hesistated. Tris had waited too long and lost too much for an opportunity like this to be dissuaded by a little hesitation.

"I... I don't have a name."

His brows furrowed. Who doesn't have a name?

"Maybe if I could see you I could suggest a few nicknames? If you'd like."

The form on the screen shifted slightly before coming closer, revealing first a pale, sickly void where a nose should be, followed by the top of a lipless mouth and the start of what Tris figured were huge fangs. It seemed to realize that it was too close to the screen before stepping back, revealing milky-white eyes with the barest hint of irises and pupils. It seemed nervous.

"I think you look like a Sam. Is that okay?"

Despite the cataracts, Tris could detect a flicker of surprise in them. "O-okay."

Tris shifted his position, hugging his legs. "So, what are you?"

"I'm a Ghast."

"Aghast? At what?"

The corners of its mouth, stretched thin due to centuries of starvation, slightly rose. It shook its head. "No, I'm a Ghast. That's what I hear the humans call us, anyway."

He nodded. "Do you have any friends?"

Sam's head slightly lowered. "Not really. There used to be a lot of us, but we had to scatter because of the humans."

"It's okay, neither do I."

A beat of silence passed.

"So," Tris began, "do you want to be friends?"

Sam looked genuinely surprised, which made Tris feel a little bad for it, but at least they were both in this together.

"Okay."

Tris smiled.

#challenge #prose #obsession #tristramcornelie