And once again I find myself back on the same road walking aimlessly with no destination to reach to.

A highway where there is no existence of light, life, love, laughter and loyalty.

A highway where is no evidence of pureness, righteousness, spirituality or God.

A highway that reeks of darkness, death, hatred, sadness and betrayal.

A highway where there is no escaping from but doomed forever.

A hypnagonic state of mind I cannot seem to free myself from no matter how hard I try.  My cries for help goes unanswered despite both my hands raised begging.

My body aches from battle wounds that never seem to heal. My bare feet bleeds from walking on hell’s road garnished with spikes and broken glass. My bruised hands hurt from shielding the impact of my falls. 

The only sounds and vibrations that continuously keep me company are the shuffling of feet coming from the lucipherous demons who continuously dance around me. 

The sniggering laughter each time I fall from being shoved by one of them.

My one wing luminiferous angel fought hard and died a heroic death.  As I held him in my arms and wept, he begged for my forgiveness for failing in his warrior's oath and duty to protect me.

A slow and lingering death the warrior bearer of light died from as I watched the lucipherous demons greedily feast and suck the energy out of him. 

“Narasoma” they chanted in union as they drank from the nectar of immortality.  Each time the Cup of Life was filled and gulped from, I died a hundred deaths.

Each pain and suffering inflicted on my dying angel shot through my body a thousand times more for our souls were still bound by the spiritual umbilical cord.

Whispers of immortality echoed in the air.  The lucipherous demons watched in glee as my earthly blood was used to sharpen the blade.

The chanting became more and more frenzied as the sword was slowly raised high.

I looked at my dying angel for the last time and asked “Why me? What sins have my soul committed for God to have handed down such a severe sentence? 

He whispered, “You have been loved.”

The important premise to realize is that people don't want to be safe, they want to feel safe.

Some people feel safer when nobody has a gun.

Some people feel safer when everybody has a gun.

But nobody really cares which scenario is truly safer. There are plenty of examples to support each position, plenty of statistics and social psychology to defend each argument. We are exceedingly capable of ignoring the disagreeable truth and hearing only what we like to hear.

Because this is not a debate about safety, this is a debate about emotions. Specifically, @fear and @attachment, and also control.

And when we dispose of logic and base our discussion entirely on emotion, it is no longer even a debate. It is children, fighting over toys. It is dogs, fighting over bones.

Are we better than that? This post is not an invitation to bicker over your position on gun control. This post is an invitation to be better than your position on gun control.

“Where am I?”

“You didn’t heed your father’s warning, Icarus,” said the woman.

“I. . . I don’t know what you mean. Where’s my father? The last thing I remember was- "

Icarus stopped. It was all coming back to him. The last thing he remember was escaping with his father and flying across the sea to freedom.

“Don’t fly too close to the Sun or water,” his father’s voice echoed through his mind.

“I flew too close to the Sun,” Icarus stated. Totally shocked.

“You did. And fell right into the sea. You drowned, too,” the woman chuckled to herself as she looked out to the sea.

“If I drowned then what am I doing here? And who are you, again?” Icarus asked.

A woman turned around. She was the most beautiful person Icarus has ever seen. She looked like a mixture of honey and chocolate. She shined bright, even in the brightness of the day. Icarus felt warm in her presence. Not the usual warm he feels on a summer’s day. The warmth of a hug, or a laugh, or when you win something.

“I’m Aphrodite, Child,” she said. Smiling as if she’s letting him in on a big secret.

“Wow. I’m dead,” Icarus stated.

“You aren’t dead!” stated Aphrodite. “You’re talking to a God. I can do anything.”

As Icarus went to stand, he felt a weight on his back. He reached across his back and felt a giant wing. With the opposite hand, he felt another.

“Wings?” He asked, shocked.

“Yes, Child. And with them, you’ll fly to your father. After doing me a favor,” stated Aphrodite.

“Yes, yes! Anything!” he replied.

“I want you to get me the Sun. Only for a few moments,” she stated, coyly.

“But that’s Apollo’s thing! Doesn’t he have protections against someone stealing it?”

“Not exactly,” she replied. “Protections against a God. . . But not a human. With wings!”

She played with his feathers and kissed his cheek.

“It’ll only be for a few moments. You’ll put the Moon in its place, and I’ll have you put everything right back where it was when I’m done having fun,” Aphrodite said. “We’ll even give your little task a cute name.”

Icarus raised an eyebrow.

Aphrodite smiled. “We’ll call it an ‘Eclipse.’”