I write to reflect,

To capture the thoughts and feelings otherwise left unchecked.

I write to imagine,

To fabricate a world injected fully with my compassion.

I write to release,

To empty my mind of anger and fear, left only with peace.

Yet sometimes these sentiments move so quick and so dense,

That even a blank page is too full to hold any sense.

"Oh, you look like you're [twelve/fourteen/fifteen/in high school]!"

"Nope, twenty-three, out of college for over a year now." Plus a forced smile.

"Really??? Well you'll be grateful when you're older!"

Maybe. Probably true. But right now, today, it takes a whole lot of self-control to bite my tongue and nod.

"No one will ever find me" he thought as he began to shut the door on the the craft.

This is what he hoped at least. They might find him in a few centuries but by then he would have ascended into Cosmos 5 and be practically undetectable by modern human standards.

"Let them search" He cackled under his breath with a wry smile. "They know not what they seek".

And with that the heavy cockpit door slammed shut. There was a few moments of silence for the gathered crowd to process what was happening before the trademark blue flames came roaring from the boosters. The ship shuddered then lurched upwards. A modern phallus, piercing what was left of the virgin skies. In a few seconds it was nearly just a spec of dust in their eyes.

As hundreds of people walked in a daze back to their cars, miles above them, Frank, focused on the sky scape right in front of him.

At the time of this historic event, earth was in Cosmos 4. Of the 12 levels of cosmic light, the 4th was pretty dense. Frank, having studied the Indigo Tablets, believed that there was so much more to discover.

And since he possessed more wealth than most developing countries combined, he was prepared to spend his life savings and his life energy searching for these higher realms.

"They're somewhere out there", "somewhere I've never been before" he mused to himself.

All of a sudden the ship began shaking uncontrollably. In his daydreaming, Frank had forgot his vigilant watch out the cockpit window.

Right before him was an enormous swirling mass of glistening shadows. Before he had a chance to put a finger anywhere the ship was being dragged into its gaping navel.

"This must be it".

......

"Ah we've found you"

"It's a boy" - the tribe elder shouted.

Everyone else gathered tightly around the scene. A young Nigerian warrior was emerging in a pile of mucous, kicking and screaming.

His mother smiles down at her newborn son.

"Welcome to Earth frank".

Hurricanes come with more frequency. Snow falls where it never has before. Drought spreads like wildfire. Natural disasters are no longer so unexpected.

So we build walls. Fix and fortify. Strengthen infrastructure. We'll be ready this time.

Ignore the real problem.

It's only a short-term solution. Erecting walls-emotionally, mentally, physically-shuts out reality; we paint a pretty picture on the interior, an illusion of security.

Pressure builds from outside. These walls will come crashing down, and then we will be faced with an even more terrifying wake-up call.

Wake up now. Instead of walls, why not embrace what is in front of us?

Fix the planet. Accept what we have destroyed and do something about it. Walls can only hold so long before they crumble.

If you want something, reach out and grab it.

Stand on your toes and stretch out your fingers, extending your self to your goal.

Nothing is stopping you. Time does not wait for anyone, so what are you waiting for?

The obstacle comes in accepting that if you are unhappy in your life, you must look inside. You have nobody else to blame; negativity felt externally is a mere reflection of within. Giving up the comfort of a scapegoat is not easy.

Everything is yours. All you need is to reach out and grab it.

“Good-bye,” he said.

“Goodbye,” said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

“What is essential is invisible to the eye,” the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."

“It is the time I have wasted for my rose-” said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

“Men have forgotten this truth,” said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose…”

“I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

Some nights thoughts dominate the empty space.

Worry, fear, anger.

Unrelenting in their vortex, eager to fill in for the missing sense.

Other times calm washes over the shadow, finding absolute peace in the stillness.

Ease, tranquility, love.

An awareness of self in the absence of visions of else.

The darkness shapes me.

I shape the darkness.

How do all these people commute every day? I'm so tired and it's only day three. I wonder what they do in the city and why they don't just live there instead. Well, I know. The city is the city, no place for kids to run around. Thank god I didn't live there growing up.

I hope I find an apartment soon.

As he stood quietly in the corner of the busy store, memories of his childhood swept over him.

"Ready or not, here I come!"

Her voice was that of an angel. That voice that had nurtured him since the moment he entered this world. It took all of his might not to run out from his hiding place behind the curtains into her arms, and he giggled quietly to himself.

In retrospect, his hiding place was not all that great. His toes peeked out from under the not-quite-long-enough drapes, and there was no way that his favorite red and white shirt kept him concealed. But yet, as with each time they played his favorite game, she stomped by his concealment, wondering out loud in a sing-songy voice:

"Hmmm, where could Waldo be?"

After a few minutes of her ruse, he couldn't take it any more and leapt out at her.

"Mommy, I'm here, I'm here!"

A customer jostled by him in a hurry, awakening him from his vivid flashback. She had disappeared so suddenly. Without warning, without so much as a goodbye. In the following days and weeks, everybody told him it wasn't his fault. Yet he swore that he would find her, and he did this in the best way he knew how.

When he hid, she always found him. Always.

And so he would keep on hiding, searching for that warmth and comfort that he had lost so many years ago.