I go out. I don't take a sick day unless I have a fever or am throwing up.

The Ocean. No contest

I abhore getting the song "I Kissed a Girl" stuck in my head. The worst part is my friends know this and consistantly try to put it there!

If only i was brave enough
to wear something a little bit different
if only i was brave enough
to talk to someone i don't know
if only i was timid enough
to keep quiet about my beliefs
if only i was timid enough
to not yell at people
if only i was nice enough
to hold the door for the old lady
if only i was nice enough
to give my change to the beggar
if only i was cruel enough
to put society first, instead of people
if only i was cruel enough
to focus on myself
if only i was sensitive enough
to know when to stop
if only i was sensitive enough
to feel if someone's hurting
if only i was harsh enough
to never feel guilt
if only i was harsh enough
to not cry in movies
if only
if only
if only

I'm afraid I don't do as much as I should. Just recycling is all.

By definition, a government has no conscience. Sometimes it has a policy, but nothing more. Albert Calmus

Country. Country. Country. The words run through my head as I leave the airport. Always put country first. Never question the rules. Know the plan and don’t stray from it. And I don’t, I never do. I am the best, the elite, the nightmare children never have because my existence is fable, even to those who know of me. I am X, the answer to every equation, the easy way out. These are dangerous concepts, the kind of thoughts that lead to treason. I have no time for independent thinking; I have a plan and I must stick to it.

I check my watch; it is perfectly configured to everyone else’s watch in my unit. She, no, not she, “she” is too human. Another rule, The Target is never human. The Target is a spontaneous person and either by chance or design this makes my job infinitely more difficult. Intel says It is at the river bazaar. This is good. I can conduct some preliminary research. I like this part the least. This is the hardest time to keep my distance, to keep thinking of The Target as a faceless enemy, and not as a real person. The Target picks up some spices, smells them, and starts to barter over price. It moves on to look at some brightly colored scarves. Rain starts; The Target pays for the rainbow scarf quickly, ties the scarf over Its brilliant red hair, and jogs for a café. I hate cafes. They are too private to blend in and too public to disappear. That’s not to say I have never killed someone in a coffee shop; it’s just such a hassle. After The Target orders I step up to do the same. I buy just a simple black coffee, nothing too noticeable or ostentatious. I fumble through my wallet to find the correct currency. The Czech Koruna is not commonly used so it is probably hiding somewhere deep. The Target looks at me, first puzzled, then determined. It starts to walk toward me. Inwardly I begin to panic. Communication with The Target is strictly prohibited.

“Do you need help? Money?” It asks. I close my eyes in horror. What to say?

“No. I am fine.” My reply is short, bordering on rude. I speak the language gruffly, but with no accent. I’ve been doing this for a long time. Where is my money?

“I can pay for that, your coffee. Just sit down with me and we’ll talk. You seem lost.” Her, Its words are soft, kind, sweet.

“I know exactly where I am.” Another swift response from me. The Target smiles knowingly.

“That’s not what I meant.” Thankfully I find my money behind some old Francs, no longer in circulation. She looks momentarily confused, and then she seems to mentally shrug her shoulders and forget. “Please, just come talk with me. I promise not to pressure you.”

Strangely, I find myself longing to follow this odd young woman, to understand why I have to kill her. To know what she did to deserve death from my hands.
“No thank you. I am busy and have some work that I must complete.” My coffee is finished and I go sit down, alone. She goes off to find someone else to talk with. She finds someone swiftly, a young man. I am filled with an irrational jealousy. Her eyes look to me every once in a while. I wish to go sit with her, to laugh with her, to see her smile at me again. I shake my head angrily.

She leaves in an hour and a half, walking swiftly in the paling light. During the time I sat in the café, I reassured myself that no matter how innocent and pure The Target appeared she, It was evil. My job is to destroy danger to my country and my government. Therefore, It must die. It is dark out now, The Target turns down an unlit street. I pull out my gun and silencer, screwing them together swiftly. The Target never sees me. I undo my gun and silencer, putting them both back in my bag inaudibly. I hear my voice call out to her. She stops, looks back, and gasps in horror. I spin around and see another man like myself smirking at us with a gun. Two pops.

1. Are you currently in a serious relationship?
A:

2. What was your dream growing up?
A:

3. What talent do you wish you had?
A:

4. If I bought you a drink, what would it be?
A:

5. Favorite vegetable?
A:

6. What was the last book you read?
A:

7. What zodiac sign are you?
A:

8. Any tattoos and/or piercings? Explain where.
A:

9. Worst habit?
A:

10. If you saw me walking down the street, would you offer me a ride?
A:

11. What is your favorite sport?
A:

12. Do you have a negative or optimistic attitude?
A:

13. What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
A:

14. Worst thing to ever happen to you?
A:

15. Tell me one weird fact about you?
A:

16. Do you have any pets?
A:

17. What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly?
A:

18. What was your first impression of me?
A:

19. Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
A:

20. If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be?
A:

21. Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
A:

22. What color eyes do you have?
A:

23. Ever been arrested?
A:

24. Bottle or can soda?
A:

25. If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it.
A:

26. What's your favorite place to hang at?
A:

27. Do you believe in ghosts?
A:

28. Favorite thing to do in your spare time?
A:

29. Do you swear a lot?
A:

30. Biggest pet peeve?
A:

31. In one word, how would you describe yourself?
A:

32. Do you believe in/appreciate romance?
A:

33. Do you believe in God?
A:

34. Will you repost this so I can fill it out for you?
A:

Obviously I am using sight to type this, which means I can't give this up. Seeing mountains, the ocean, my friends and family, flowers, people, rivers, paintings, photographs. The beauty seen in everyday life is reason enough not to give up sight. The ugly things are another reason not to give up sight. Seeing horrid things makes me want to change them.

Sound. Can I give up music? The sound of laughter? Voices? I am not strong enough to live the rest of my life in silence, final answer.

Fleece against my skin. Rain beating on my face. The heat of a fire against my side. Arms around me comforting. How can I live without these?

I can tell whose house I am in by the smell of the air. Without smell I would have to live without the scent of rain, incense, new tires, hardware stores, pine trees, ocean breeze, perfume, cologne, home-made meals, lakes, and innumerable other things which I adore.

I am a very picky eater. Yes I would live without the taste of anything, but it is not as important as the first four to me.

Really loud, angry, head-banger music. Every time. And working out helps quite a bit, relieves tension, makes you feel good!

If thinking everyone deserves life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness regardless of skin color, wealth, or if their parents want them makes me a crazy liberal, then I am.

If thinking people should work for their livlihood instead of the government giving it to them makes me a close minded conservative, then I am.

If thinking change, diversity, and acceptance are good things makes me a free-love hippy, then I am.

If thinking we should fight wars to give others freedom and ourselves safety makes me a bloodthirsty hate-monger, then I am.

If thinking ignorance is a disease that needs to be cured and not by the government makes me a high-thinking aristocrat, then I am.

If thinking people are more important than whales and the environment makes me polluting white-trash, then I am.

Since these are all true, I suppose that makes me a crazy, close minded, free-love, bloodthirsty, high- thinking, polluting, liberalconservativehippyhate-mongeraristocratwhite-trash. Say that ten times fast.

I don't fit in a pigeon hole.

As I was searching through lj looking for communities with common interests, I typed in Ireland. One community was for pro-white nationalism. I was thoroughly horrified.
Of course I have seen the Law and Orders that show Nazism alive and well, but I considered it just tv imagination. Alas, I was wrong.
This discovery makes me think back to dinner with my extended family. More than once, it was mentioned how Obama was the anti-Christ (this goes to show that a lot of generalizations about white, christian, middle class families are more true then I want to admit. And to think I have difficulty with God...). And while visiting my Great Aunt and Uncle, my uncle mentioned how hard it must be to live in a community with many hispanics (and people truly from Spain, which I suppose makes them spanish. Forgive my ignorance). I readily assured him that I didn't find it difficult at all. In fact, I hardly noticed the diversity except that it brought more to the table (like better Thai and Indian food). But to get back to the Obama thing, I told my family (maybe I should have held my tongue, but Dear Lord they are exasperating) that while I severely dislike Senator Obama's political, social, and economical ideas, it was not because of his color or his upbringing (I actually feel bad for the guy. Everyone deserves a father).
Maybe I'm idealistic, naive, and absurd, but I thought we celebrated that day in January because of MLK Jr.'s fantastic job at bringing forth equality. Didn't we fight multiple wars for this?
It

Bob, yes Bob, is my nickname. 
You see, when I was in fifth grade I went to my friends Bible study and was wearing a hand-me-down shirt from my oldest brother. This shirt had a giant smiley face on the front and said "Microsoft Bob. Have a nice computer" on the back. I wear glasses and smile a lot. The name just stuck, some of my friends don't even remember my real name and call me Bob.
 

 I Am

Curiosity epitomized
Books read
Knowledge wanted
Stories heard
Stories told
Friendships gathered
Travel craved
Journeys made
Inside mind
Mountains climbed
Both kinds
Lessons grasped

 

I don't want to be famous in the conventional way. No, I want my fame to be the kind that children learn about in their history books. However, I am not entirely sure where I want my fame to come from. Maybe being a politician, a writer (though that's not very likely), or just travelling and learning.

I love the mountains in the east. The small spattering of snow upon them. The giant light blue sky above the mountain range with just one or two small creamy clouds and the moon hanging half invisible like a silver shadow.

I love the cars that race late at night. I may not be able to see their shiny paint, brand name logos, or neon lights that flash beneath them. I may not be able to smell the gasoline exuded from their high-quality exhaust and wide mouthed mufflers. I can, however, hear those same mufflers, feel the pounding music, and see the tire marks in the morning.

I love the morning and evening sun. The sun that peeks above those mountains in the morning, lending its golden glow to the city. The sun that sends shimmers of pink, orange, and purple late at night, slowly engulfing the town in darkness.

I love the lights. Their calming serenity washes away a difficult day by just being in my sight. Those same lights that induce me to think also force me to relax.

But what I love most about home is going back.
 

 

 

A soft voice croons from deep within the dark home. Over and over again it speaks, whispering secrets and great things in your ears. Until eventually, you start to move forward. Your feet sliding, stepping smoothly over the hard, uneven ground. This place is evil, you know it, all know. Anyone can tell. One can feel it in the very essence of the air around you. Evil. It permeates, saturates and soaks everything. But the voice is kind, soft and wise. When you hear it you feel fulfilled. Gone is the empty space inside you, instead you are filled with warmth. Down the long, gloomy hallway you walk. It is now that you notice something wrong. With each step, horror presses in. Onward, farther still. Now you have gone so far if you were to look back, the light from the door would be invisible. Now evil is closing  in on you. You start to run- it comes closer moving faster, faster. You move forward, sprinting now, adrenaline coursing through you. Your heart is thrump-thrum...thrumping in your chest. Still you run, still it chases you. Years, decades pass. Still, you run.