Mass shootings are a huge issue. And though semi-automatic firearms and similar weapons may make it easier for these shootings to be carried out, the weapon never pulls its trigger on its own. There is always someone behind the trigger. By "people behind the trigger" I don't mean just the person pointing the gun. I am talking about every single person that has helped to push the assailant to even pick up and point the gun in the first place. There is an underlying cause to this madness that can be traced back to all of our childhoods. There is a flaw in the education system, and there is a problem with how some people were raised or treated growing up. Bullying has always been a major part of childhood and even life in general, although many of us choose to feign ignorance and ignore the fact. But dispite all these campaigns to bring an end to bullying, schools and even parents all too often choose to close their eyes and cover their ears from countless desperate cries for help. Factors such as trauma, intolerance, racism, homophobia, among many other things are all roots connected to the same tree and grown from the same seed. They are forced onto us in our youth and further embedded as we develop. Morality. Love. These compose the seed that should be planted. Unfortunately, many seeds are watered with toxic water full of the world's hate. This hate or lack of morality is the true problem that must be controlled. It is the stem holding up the gun.

I removed her glasses and gazed

at the cerulean beauty of her eyes.

There was so much promise and

sensuality there, that I dove

right into their welcoming depths.

I never again surfaced from

the filmy surface of her orbs,

washed by the overwhelming

peace and tranquility

beneath her ocean.

It was all thanks to that first god damn ontological discussion with the big man himself that sparked a second date with God. My first date was all but inspiring as I wheeled around to find myself broken beyond repair. Time would mend, but I'm not so sure that it would piece me back together entirely. Anyways, my second date with God went something like this:

"Where're the floor boards?"

"Beneath you're feet."

Hmmm... thanks for the sip of wisdom. Remind me again why I thought I could handle this? It wasn't for me to decide and it certainly wasn't anything I was ready for. 

Have you ever felt a pain so strong that it literally brought you to your knees? A pain so ironically satisfying that you found yourself clinging to it even as you began to heal? It's these experiences that contain the capacity to change and harbor the implements to love. No, I don't want a third date with the Oh So Powerful One but I've got a pretty strong feeling that it's coming. In the meantime, I suppose I'll lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling for a while. Maybe call up an old friend just to remind them that the tides have shifted and the swell has weakened. That could clean up the surf a bit if we're lucky, turn these close-outs into something a bit more manageable. 

"I had a really good time tonight," I said without much thought.

"Me too," was the respond.

Call me crazy, but I'd call that a success. No but seriously, call me crazy. It'll be the best decision you've made in quite a long while. 

My time has come, will come, did come. 

"You'll find me when you're ready," God said.

"I wish I could tell you no," said I.

When a charming young princess loses her father. She wishes upon a star and asks for a fairy god-father to be with her. The fairy council all sit and chatter wondering if there's been a mistake. Most of the time, for many generations, only fairy god-mothers have been called to help grant a magical wish. But now there was an unlikely request and wish to be granted for a young princess. The fairy council had to call the most well trained male fairy in the magical kingdom. Fairy god-father Erwin flew into the council's meeting. They all rise and bow in honor of the valiant fairy.

Fairy god-father Erwin reads the princess' file. She likes to read, solve puzzles, ride her favorite horse- lightning, and plant flowers around the castle walls. He closes the file and glances at her lovely name....Daisy. The fairy council meeting comes to a close. Fairy E. heads to the earth portal chamber. The portal opens and there's a great sight of a grand tall silver and gold castle.

Princess Daisy is in her book tree. Her nice, quite reading spot by the castle gate. She doesn't notice Fairy Erwin fly past her. The palace guards ask to find out who this intruder is. Fairy Erwin shows them his official fairy identification card.

The guards let him pass and he walks into the castle. Princess Daisy wonders why all the guards are centered in one location. She climbs down from her reading tree and runs into the castle. And a few seconds later, Daisy can't believe her eyes. Standing before her is a fairy. Fairy Erwin greets her by name. She gasps and seems shocked that he already knows her name. Could this be her fairy god-father? Maybe.

The Queen calls for her daughter, and is surprised to see that there's a guest in the castle. Queen Kess looses her sense of speech and time. Daisy's Mother can't stop staring at Erwin. And Erwin was also charmed by the beautiful Queen's presence. Daisy clears her throat. Erwin finally stops staring at the Queen. He now pays attention and focuses on his assignment.

Erwin stays for a while in the castle. The Queen is pleased to see her daughter so happy. After several weeks of reading, horse-riding and flower planting, Erwin finds it hard to say goodbye to princess Daisy.

He flies back to the fairy kingdom. Erwin explains to them all his work and the fun he had with the princess. The fairy council all smile. They pass their final judgment.

Queen Kess and Princess Daisy both played with their dinner. Tossing it back and forth on their plates. Then there's a loud creak noise made by the castle gate. And a slight sound of a gentle breeze. As if there was something or someone flying at top speed. The two ladies stood and ran towards the palace gate. & right outside by the reading tree was none other than.....Erwin, the fairy god-father.

My first date with God, was intense to say the least. God was the longest relationship I have ever been in, but I'm finally going on my second date with God. It's so funny, I've known God for so long, but it's like I'm finally learning who God is. When I was just about to go on my first date with God, I had instructions whispered in my ears. Rules were explained and customs were performed. I learnt rituals, spoke of blessings, sang praises, and avoided harshness. On my first date with God I expected enchantment, I expected extreme, I wanted wonderment,  and desired divinity. When I came home from that first date and had none of the things I had so desperately hoped to see and to believe, when I had nothing in my hands, I turned to look around me. I thought am I alone among all these believers who can see those great turrets on high. I wished, if only I could see some great presence or feel it's aura like the others; inhale it's essence like those who claim to feel its touch, to know it, to live it. If so many are living it, they can't all be wrong, If so many feel God's love then who am I not to try. So I studied and learnt, and God started to change, I heard of God's wrath, his anger, I envisioned greatness, and learnt hatred. I expected to be taught how to bring together, but was instructed to drive apart. All under the pretense of God I was told what to do and why, who to love, and when it's appropriate to try. When to leave and where to go, only told yes or no. When I heard no more reasons, when I got no response, I looked around again. I looked around as I had done every day, I saw where I was, and it was farther than I'd ever came. I'd left a lot behind, and I still know where it lays, but now I know, that it's just for visiting. Because when I finally looked around after all those years of walking, I realized I had my nose buried in a book that whole time. I couldn't love God, because I couldn't see God while I was always looking down. Reading into God is fine, but you'll likely lose your mind, not from sense but from the road. You can study and you can preach, you can stand on the busiest corner on the biggest of streets. You can set up shop, and invite people to stop but what does it mean, feeling so clean, shiny and nice, does it ever make you think twice. What abut the world out there, what about the trees, the all natural breeze? What about all those things that exist for a reason, that make me wonder and thank God for intellect. Because I can both wonder and love, discuss theory and have fun, not everything requires uniform from above. I'm finally going on my second date with God and it's going really well. I'm getting to learn about all the quirks I already knew, but in a different way this time. Because I don't have anyone whispering in my ears, no-one to feed me any fears. I know God is love, and I know this because, I've felt it every day since I left that space. To all the believers I left behind,  to all the truth seekers wasting their time. I left that first date and I was pissed, but we had a talk and I think God has changed, at least for me. It did take a long time, I'm not going to lie, but everything seems different now.  Now I'm on my second date with God. I don't know how long I'll stick around this time, but everything's all the more wonderful. The world is more beautiful if you just look at it for what it is, instead of chiseling it to perfection. Because as you chisel away for the sake of uniformity, you shave off a layer of beauty never to be gotten back. 

"I'd love to follow my fellow people's life map, but my mind and heart just ever pull and lead me on a different path."

The older ancient elves remind us all that every elf needs to follow the way of Arwvoj. That is being a guide to spirits which are lost and troubled. We help them find their way into the light, or a safe place of rest. Later they'll be received by former past loved ones in heaven.

I've talked with my Parents. They seem to think that I'm going through a phase. I wish they understood that I want to go on a journey, & explore further lands beyond our elvian homeland.

If my Pa 'n' Ma won't listen to me, then I'll deifinitely seek aid from my spirit guide, trainer & friend. Shamlok, the best teacher our people have had since my Pa retired.

I've known Shamlok from his spiritual guiding training days. I was only a young child then- always watching from the sidelines. My dream then was to someday be like my Pa, and also became one of the greatest spirit guide(s).

Shamlok had noticed the change of heart in me. My mind wasn't fully present in the moment. All I thought about daily was what life was like away from home. I wanted to meet other creatures and beings....fairies, goblins, minotaurs, sorcerers, dragons, mermaids, dwarves, trolls, if I was lucky even humans.

Shamlok: Young Master Druth. What seems to be drowning your heart and mind in trouble?

Druth: Greetings O Grand Master Shamlok. (Sighs and shakes his head) I don't know what to do. On the one hand my feet are deeply rooted here. While on the other hand, I want to discover and explore what's beyond from home.

Shamlok: O, wise, mighty and strong tecaher, and friend. You're able to do anything that you set your mind and heart to. If it's our way that you wish to not change, don't worry. You are not changing it at all. In fact wherever you go, follow it and never forget it.

Druth: (Bows head) Thank you so much dear wise, mighty and string friend, and teacher.

Shamlok: May the spirits of the ancient ones be with you and guide you on your journey.

Druth Faerwol heads to his parents home. His Pa gives his heir and student a nod. Druth nods in return. Druth's Ma pulls her son towards her & gives him a tight squeeze. He bids them farewell. His Ma sobs, as her eyes follow her child's movement untill his out of sight. She waits to see if he returns before sunset.

The sun's bright light vanishes beyond the horizon. Druth isn't coming back home right now. There's no turning back for him. He is on a journey of discovery of what lies beyond the elvian forest.

On my second date with God, He took me to a beautiful, secluded island. The sun began to set as we walked along the beach, our footprints trailing in the sand behind us.

“Nice view, huh?” He remarked, gesturing outward. I simply nodded.

“You're welcome.” He chuckled. I laughed nervously. Of all the people in the world, I knew I had no business being in His Almighty presence.

“Relax, my child. The rules are simple. You get three questions. Choose carefully.” He said.

“W-what is the m-meaning of life?” I stuttered.

“Is that really the question you wish to ask me?” God said.

“N-no.” I said.

“Okay then. Let's start again. No do-overs this time. What do you honestly want to know?” He asked.

“Is Jesus really your son?” I asked.

“Every single man, woman, boy, and girl on this Earth, both living and past, were born of me, flesh of my flesh. You are all my children whom I love unconditionally. Even when you forsake me, ignore me, doubt me, and do wicked things to one another, I am still here with open arms, waiting to welcome you. I created life on this Earth, so my spirit lives on in each one of you. Jesus is my son, just as you are my daughter.” God explained. “Next question.”

“If we're your children, and you love us so much, why don't you intervene and stop us from killing each other?” I asked. “Um...sir.” I quickly added.

“It may not seem like it at times, but free will is a blessing. But it can also be a curse. You are very frail and volatile beings. The biggest threat posed to you is yourselves. Although the power to choose your own path in life is one my greatest gifts to humankind, it is also a tremendous responsibility, one you must learn not to squander. If I were to take all that away to keep you safe from each other, could you be happy? Imagine if every single part of your life had already been decided for without your say or consent. Is that the type of life you would want?” He responded.

“I guess not...” I said.

“Last question. Make it a good one.” He joked.

There were so many questions swirling around in my head, but I knew there was one in particular that only God could answer.

“Why...why did I have to die?”

I admit he was a mysterious man. Just how he sat there, his muscles relaxing into the embrace of the shapeless fauteuille. I had to admit I was intrigued. I was intrigued by the thin smile that always surrounded his face, as if I were always about to say something ingenious or he had found something that could amaze him forever. And I mean forever.

Of course I did not believe he was God. If that were the case, I would never had agreed to meet him here on this second date. The truth is, I wasn't even sure whether the man in front of me was sane. He probably was not. But he was the most charming, amiable fellow who wore his good looks without that abundant pride and superiority I had come to despise in the predecessors who had sat at that table for some time or another. He was a character out of a fairy tale, unaware of his beauty and intrigue. Except of course, for the detail that he was God.

Of all the beings he could have impersonated, why did it have to be God? I could foresee that, despite his charm and general loveliness, this would be a problem. Frankly I have had a difficult relationship with God. I have experienced that I could not count on him when I needed him before. I used to talk to him, but he said nothing. We used to play hide-and-seek; I went searching, but he had hidden too well. I read books about him, but they seemed just like stories and make-believe. So I ended up resenting him for it, I told him, If you are benevolent, then why are there earthquakes? Why is there suffering? Why is there death? And that one time, I did not mind his silence. I don't think that any response would have been good enough. 

All of that was on my mind while I ordered coffee and smiled at a man who was nearly perfect and yet so far removed from my reality. 

'You still don't believe in me, do you?' he observed. 

'Leave it be,' I suggested, wanting to hold on to what little there was left of the possibility. 

'But I need you,' he continued, 'to believe.' His eyes were trembling with emotion as he asked for a devotion I could not give him. 

'Why do you insist on being God?'

'Does it insult you?' he asked, timidly. 'What did you expect me to look like?' 

'Get it together, man,' I said, getting up, just as the coffees arrived. The waitress looked ominously at us, the bill already in her hand as she nearly slammed it on the table. 

'But I am,' he said, weakly. 'Why does nobody believe me?' 

'Pray you're not,' I told him, as I reached for my wallet. 'If you are, I don't think you're real.' 

I handed the money to the waitress, who walked out on us without a word. 'You're welcome, by the way,' I commented sweetly, and turned to face the flagrant imposter. But the chair in front of me was empty. There was no desperate man with a sugared disposition and a flair of nobility in front of me. There were only two cups of coffee. 

Everything had gotten very quiet. I could feel their eyes on me as I turned around, the room spinning, my hands clenched together as I asked: 'Where did he go?' 

Dead silence followed. After a while, the waitress announced, half-whispering: 'Beats me.' 

'Are you alright?' a voice asked. I did not seem able to see where it was coming from, because my heartbeat had started hammering the rhythm of Chopin's Minute Waltz, and everything seemed to have gone a faint red hue. 

'Where did he go?' I repeated, in the direction of the voice. 

'We don't know,' someone else offered, with a tone of disinterest. 

'How should we know?' another tuned in.

'But who?' a third one asked. 

'God,' I said. 'I think he left me.'

(Challenge: 2nd Date with God)

____________________________________

"Prove it.  What would you do?"

The question is a loaded one. She sits, utterly relaxed, cigar smoke pooling around her like some kind of halo. Her highball glass, half-emptied of an old fashioned, gently swirls as she toys with it.

I don't know what to say.

"I'd never really considered it, I suppose." It is all I can do to choke out that answer. To fill the empty air between us, I nervously sip on my bloody mary.

I know who she is, of course. She'd made it abundantly clear by demonstrating a minor miracle the last time we saw one another. I was charmed, amazed, and petrified, all at once. 

She'd done her best to soothe my fears, but it's hard not to be awestruck.  It's even harder to not be more than a little afraid.

I was half expecting a trumpeting Michael, or something, but was relieved when I received a simple text. "I'm having a drink at Paul's Place tonight at 7, if you'd like to join me.  I'll be glad to see you."

Unpretentious, unassuming, but still a little cocky. Like I didn't have plans tonight? Like I would just drop everything because she was going to be at some little cigar bar down the street from me?

Of course I canceled the dinner plans I had with my friends from work, and here I am.

What would you do, she aks.  The irony of the question isn't lost, to be sure. Images of cheesy bumper stickers flash in my mind, and I'm sure that is her intention. Legions of her lemmings practically line up wearing those tee-shirts and wristbands.

"We'll put a pin in that for now." Peering over the brim of her glass, I can see a hint of laughter in her eyes as she sips the whiskey.

I sigh with relief. "Thank you." I practically chug my cocktail.

"You seem nervous."

"You should be used to that reaction."

"I want you to be relaxed. Completely at ease."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Wincing, I snatch the celery from my glass and chomp down on it, to keep myself from speaking further.

To my surprise, she laughs. It is a throaty, deep laugh, not at all matronly or familial. It is ... almost seductive.

For the first time, I truly understand why women fall for powerful men. Images of presidents, actors, and fictional president actors flash in my mind. They always managed to attract such unlikely partners.

"Yes, that Kevin Spacey is something else, isn't he?" Her tone is playful, but I still choke on my celery. "Careful, A. Chew. Swallow. Breathe. I admit, sometimes the design leaves a little to be desired, with life and death so close to one another. I'm also a little disappointed, sometimes, in running the plumbing through the recreational area, but, well. Life is balance." She puffs her Nat Sherman and smirks.

A few patrons turn to look at me. At her gesture, they studiously begin to ignore my coughing. Finally, I recover, and I finish my drink in one gulp. As if by magic, a waiter whisks away the old glass and replaces it with a new, fresh drink.

"It isn't that I doubt your dedication, Abe. Truly, I don't. I know you love me."

I furiously nod my head in the affirmative.

She continues, "It's just that, well. Sometimes, I require...proof. It isn't for me, so much, as it is for them." She gestures with her smoldering cigar at the patrons of the bar. "They're savages. They mean well, I know. But they're still practically cave men, trembling at thunder and losing their fucking minds at every full moon. Don't even get me started on eclipses. Jesus." The single large ice cube clinks as it bounces off of the glass as she drains it. Staring off into nowhere, she fishes out the orange slice, absentmindedly nibbling the fruit before discarding the rind onto her small square napkin. Before she speaks again, another Old Fashioned replaces her empty one. "The wait staff is very attentive here," she comments.

"I think they know you." I manage a feeble laugh.

"People haven't known me in a long time, Abe." Sadness creeps into her voice, and it scares me more than wrath. She turns her gaze towards me, peering within. "Tell me about Sarah."

It catches me off guard.

"Tell you what?" I'm flustered. "I mean, you already know, right?"

She sighs.

"Indulge me, would you?" Expectantly, she pulls on her cigar.

"I mean, she's a good woman. A great mother."

"But?"

"But we were just incompatible."

"So you're between wives, is it?"  Her eyes twinkle.

"Something like that. But I'm in no hurry to remarry."

"I see. Is that why you are on Tinder?"

"Well, yes. I mean, I get lonely."

"Oh, that I can understand."

"What about you? Why would you...need Tinder?"

"I tried Grinder for a while, but I got bored.  Not enough conversation. I figured I'd switch avatars, see what happens."

"Don't you already know what's going to happen?" I nervously pluck the olive from its little plastic sword.

"I still like to experiment, Abe. That's how we ended up with wonderful things like the platypus. And artichokes."

I don't quite know how to respond to that, so I go on about my ex-wife. "Sarah is a fantastic mother, but she agreed that we weren't a great fit. I mean, our parents arranged the wedding, and all that. Very old world."

"I'm fond of the Old World. People truly knew me, then."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." I trail off, thinking it best to just take another drink.

She sighs. "Oh, stop apologizing. You know me just fine. That's why we're here."

"To be fair, we're here because the picture you posted was hella hot."

She smiles. "Thanks."

"I mean, you practically look like a carbon-copy of Scarlet Johansen."

"There are no accidents, Abe."

"Right." Another nervous sip.  I consider asking about geoducks or naked mole rats, but I let it ride.  It's almost too easy to let my mouth run, with the Grey Goose coursing through me.

"You're right about Sarah. She is a good woman. I'm sorry you two haven't been able to make things work. I'll send you someone you'll be fully compatible with, if you like."

"I'm in no hurry. Playing the field has been fun."  I sip.

"You're getting no younger."  She sips.

"True. And my tastes seem to stay the same."  I sip a lot, blushing at the confession.

"Lucky for you there are a lot of ladies out there who like older, wiser men."  She spares me a small smile.

"I'm not exactly old, you know."

"No, but you will be."

"So you're telling me my future, now?" Vodka makes me bold, it seems.

She grins, and I relax. I'm not sure how far I can carry things with her.

Finishing with her cigar, she puts her elbows on her knees. Leaning forward, she peers into my eyes. It takes everything I have not to squirm, gazing into that beautiful abyss.

"I'm going to make your dreams come true, Abe. All of them. Every. Last. One. Because I like you." My reaction to her words is visceral. Crude.

She glances down at the physical manifestation of my enthusiasm.

Smirking, she traces a finger along my thigh.

"Answer my original question, Abraham. Will you prove that you love me?"

Stammering, I finally release a "Yes" at nearly a yell. To make sure my point gets across, I nod enthusiastically.

"Great. Then let's go pick up Isaac from his mom's house."

God help me, I know what she means me to do, but I still can't lead her out of the bar fast enough.