The Shark
The reason why I like the shark is because of its ability to explore the world's oceans. Wouldn't it be amazing to understand what lies beyond the surface in the outermost reaches of the seas. What treasures and artifacts we could find?
I did not choose the shark for its flaws; I would choose it for its abilities to explore new possibilities and opportunities. Sure a shark eats fish, but don't we all? Sure, a shark harms humans, but didn't we at some point in our lives?
The animal I chose is not me personally. I choose what my life will be from this point forward. I choose how I will act. I choose to forgive others.I choose the good in life and I treasure what I have left.
My Remorse
Ario
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I wasn't sure if he survived what I've done.
My heart was killing me, because I KNEW I was a monster.
All of the people I had hurt were now angels in my mind.
Innocents which haunt me to this day.
For some confronted a disease or this world's convictions.
And I foolishly used my words to harm their emotions
without knowing where it could lead.
And now I blame myself for their demise.
But this one incident had been my demons
for as long as I can remember.
Some said it was an accident when we were children
I had hurt him with we were racing around the playground.
When I did, I was so afraid
that I had caused him all the pain
that I ran home.
Our fathers faced each other,
and spoke about the fault of mine.
I knew I had damaged him,
and I am punishing myself everyday
for I didn't know if he was alive or dead.
I was stupid for having hurt him,
and now I believe there are secrets that no one is telling me.
What I truly understand is that the world is angry,
and that someone will get vengeance.
I wish I could turn back time,
to undo all of the harm that I've caused.
I am ready to face justice
to take responsibility for my deepest sins.
Whatever harm happens to me,
I'll accept it.
For I know I truly deserve it.
Reflection
Maybe I was wrong about man.
Maybe there is always good inside him.
Maybe there are no enemies.
Maybe there are evils.
Maybe its the hate one aquires.
Maybe its revenge.
Maybe one never encountered a human who did them harm.
Maybe one did and witnessed the loss of lives.
Maybe some join the fight to do good.
Maybe some revolve in hate.
Should we continue in ignorance?
Or should we sit down and understand one another?
Would violence continue to exist?
Or should one seek knowledge
and wisdom
and ask questions?
And come to an accord?
Should one prepare themselves to help the world?
Or should one focus on one's safety?
Maybe one should do both.
Move with discretion and caution.
For we are human.
And we can do the possible
and the inevitable.
So where does one stand?
To protect who they love.
Find the heroes
who train under the morals of goodness and peace.
Protagonist.
Antagonist.
Antihero.
The story is what one makes it.
Their choices, their responsibility.
Educate yourselves.
For the world needs the humans
so it would not perish.
We are all heroes
as long as we don't do harm.
Fro revenge may be sweet,
but it could change the course
of one's path forever.
Heal your wounds
and find the good in life.
Delicacy Of Works
Someone had taken the prize.
A treasure worth cataclysm.
Some recover the vision.
Of a life fallen in secrets.
One could lose sight
of which is truth
and what is lies.
The road of revenge leads
to a structure of calcium.
And precious minerals wither
with the voracious greed.
Elements of satire
guide the fool.
If one strives to confuse,
the ignition of revolution
could cause a search.
For when a human's gifts
are stolen.
The song of expectancy
misleads.
For one wanted glory
and another construction.
One loss.
One gain.
One end.
One beginning.
The idea never left the soul.
Zealous confiscated
a legacy.
Alone
Prologue
I remember they left me there. In the behavioral ward with those sick-minded psychos. If not for the nurses, doctors, and security officers, I would have been the victim.
As I appproached the single table where everyone surrounded in seats, middle-aged men of all demeanors eyed me, twitching with excitement as I meekly sat down in a lonely chair. I suppose not many young women ever had a nervous breakdown, but I felt uncomfortable in the single hospital nightgown I wore. For the four later years of my adolescence, I had learned to never trust a male stranger, because I suspected that they would lust over women, wanting to deflower and make an unfortunate female their own slave subjected to their pleasure. Dominance, possessiveness, temptation, frequent sexual encounters with foolish tramps. I didn't know the reason they acted the way they did.
But I knew that I was their target. And that many women around the planet were trapped in the clutches of sex trafficking, rape of any age, and domestic violence.
Why didn't I shut up when I had the chance!? I would have been at the college, studying criminal justice like I had planned in the beginning, instead of being in this evil yet tranquil asylum of possibilities!?
I had to remain calm. At the shocked, confused state that I was in, the doctors were convinced that any more outbursts would result in more medication and extension of my time here in this hell of predators. I had no clue what their backgrounds were or why they landed into treatment and observation. I didn't give a damn about them.
I gave a damn about me and my safety.
The older women who were also staying in the behavioral ward also eyed me, but with anger. A factor which I couldn't understand. Did these women hate me? But why? I wasn't beautiful. I was chubby with flawed facial features.
Yet, I was younger. And men wanted that.
I didn't get much to eat because a woman began to complain that I was getting all of the attention. She created a scandal which made me fear for my life, because she was throwing chairs and thundering aloud. The doctors called for security.
That's when an old pervert stood close to me and tried to get me by striking a conversation. Yet I wanted nothing from him or what he intended.
I remember the night of karaoke in the ward, and how he began to straddle me while I stood in fear. Every ill-minded patient, even the foolish nurses, estatically jeered while I suffered in discomfort. Instead of kicking him, I moved away. I had no choice.
For the remainder of my stay, he tried every approach to be physically close. The hospital staff knew of my awareness and moved me to a more peaceful location. He followed.
And every night, I lied awake, listening to the screams, yells, and calls of the men on the other side of the behavioral ward's walls. And I never slept. For he stood there in the doorway, waiting for his chance.
My aunts had betrayed me.
No one believed me.
Except my father.
Who saw my predicament.
And wanted to save me from them.
Retribution Or Modesty
For centuries, the world and its peoples have lived together. Their ambitions to find their purpose has often led to a clash in differences. The concept survival of the fittest has motivated some to take action to in some way balance their conquests. But what if I were to tell you that there was a concept which many people have seen, but have forgotten over time? That there was a manner to erase some of the hate in this world, and most humans have acquired it. Yet there are those that could be reminded.
The concept is......despite war, crime, sickness, and violence.....
We are all humans.
Created beings which have the same skeleton, organs, and veins.
People who have all made mistakes in the past.
Individuals who have loved, craved love, and have found love.
People who have families and have been orphans.
We all have shared emotions
and legacies we need to fulfill
duties which make us construct good.
I see that in this world, that the reason many people hate each other
could be because a fellow human has done them wrong in the past.
And because of those criticisms, punishments, and/or injustice,
they may overgeneralize that every category this asssailant may fall into
he or she may have been hurt deeply by someone else long ago.
The chains of hate may motivate this person to have dominance,
but I believe that they could need kindness from others.
Maybe I am too naive to see
that there will always be conflict.
But I'm sure that there is goodness in each and every one of us.
I cannot change a person.
A person may choose to change themselves.
And there are heroes who can help them
make peaceful choices.
Both the broken and strong could be understood.
If they share their story
And find forgiveness.
If they choose to hate,
then I forgive you.
It's a choice.
To understand.
To care.