We have a Proser with a birthday today. April 1, 2003 (his time), the world didn’t know it then, but the world became a little bit of a better place to be.

In 2003, a gallon of milk was $2.95. College tuition: $14,500. The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini was the most popular novel. Top movies: Finding Nemo, Lost in Translation, Pirates of the Caribbean. The Tampa Bay Buccaneers won the Super Bowl, and oddly enough, 18 years later, they did it again. Also born on this day: Storm Reid – Greta Thunberg but along with these, came another living, breathing soul that I feel is destined to change the world—one written word, one spoken thought at a time.

The title is a bit misleading as I have come to think of him over the last several months as a young adult, not a boy.

If there were ever one such as he to have the biggest heart, the most honest and open way of expressing himself, his views, how he explains himself when he comments on someone else’s posts—well, I just don’t see too many purer souls other than Chacko_Stephen.

I have never told him this, but I have considered Chacko to be the son I never had, and one of the truly best friends I have come to love for him being who he is. No pretense. Just an honest and sincere guy you can’t help but like.

So please join me in wishing CS a Happy 18th Birthday!

(All virtual gifts for Chacko can be left in your comments to him.)

CS: This is for you -- https://voicespice.com/Player.aspx?c=p&h=F266B35C&j=25479E

Party Time -- https://youtu.be/JTVufaGeXms

A Little Something Extra: https://youtu.be/PGcu2XTusC4 and https://youtu.be/j5hVj1pfrE4

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIS! I'm so happy for all your achievements this year! Congrats on reach 100 followers on the website! Thank you for being my sister as you inspire me every day to makeme motivated no matter how down I feel.

You truly are the best. @snivyth3

“Hope your special day brings you all that your heart desires!

I realize a portion of you detest mass tagging, but this time around, I do so, because in a broad scope of things, we are all a part of Prose, hence, like a family. We may not see eye to eye on everything, and that’s fine. We aren’t supposed too. Debating is good. To agree to disagree is good as well.

I would venture to say by now most, if not all Proser’s received an email about the Beta version for a newer and fresher look to Prose. If you haven't seen it, then check your spam mail. The header is: The Prose: The Next Chapter ... or I can save you the hassle of looking and just go here (after you read all this).

beta.theprose.com

I took the proverbial tour and for right now, I am not impressed. And I expressed my opinions to “A”, one of the amins here and want to share those same concerns with you.

And I will be curious to your thoughts on this potential change as well. As of now, I still consider “this Prose” to be our home. I have rode along in Prose just over five years and have seen several changes already, but this “Prose Beta Test” will be the biggest of all.

The following were concerns I addressed.

**********

Okay, I took a ride in the Beta format and the setup reminds me too much of Twitter.

Plus, I went to private messages, none where I can see a way to delete and

everyone who is anyone is there from 2 and 3 years ago. This includes both people I have blocked and those who have blocked me, as well as some who aren’t even with Prose any longer.

I may be the only person to say this on Prose but I really dislike looking like another website. Twitter is Twitter. Facebook is Facebook. Instagram is Instagram. They, like thousands of other web sites and social media have their own unique style and look.

...and personally, I don’t want to have to “relearn” how to move around in the new Prose.

Hence, I am not a fan of the so-called new Prose.

Not only that, In the Beta Version, I cannot locate any of my books I’ve written here.

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

There are cracks here and there along the way but they can be corrected.

Like I said, I can’t find a place to get to my books I’ve created to add chapters, yet alone create new books.

... and that is pretty much how I feel/felt about the Beta version.

I close with this: It would have been nice if before they embarked on this change, if they had consulted with members of Prose to get their feedback first, and then go ahead with the Beta Test.

Right now, I feel like a fish out of water about this whole idea and quite frankly, if this does end up being the "New Prose" ... I may very well take my leave.

This. Sounds. Amazing. So of course I'm going to contribute, because I, if possible, would like to be a part of this epic feat.

Some ideas? I have a couple book ideas that I have written down in my room... I'll look through those and see if I can find one I want to share...

Huzzah! Found them! Ooo... this is a fun one. My Life with a Serial Killer. I started writing this comedy a while back, but I hit a dead end in the first chapter. I think the title is pretty self explanatory, and it would be cool to see where this goes when turned into a collaborative effort.

Keep me updated... I would love to be a part of this.

a towering stack of waffles,

with butter on top,

syrup dripping, permeating.

ringed by rashers of heavenly bacon,

like crispy petals of a flower.

toasted bagle, or seven,

covered lovingly, with butter.

covered, not spread!

on top of that a choice:

runny camambert cheese,

or leftover baked salmon.

better take both.

potato wedges, first boiled,

then fried in butter.

saussage links,

there’s no escape.

strawberries in cream,

with canned pineapples,

tomato sauce with tabasco,

coffee with milk, no sugar.

a steaming brownie for closure.

no regret,

no regtet,

no regret,

no regret,

no regret,

no regret,

clinking saucers carried off,

birds chirping,

distant sound of the ambulance,

they’ll never make it.

eyes closed

but instead of dark inside

it’s all you

so how then is my

heart open

but instead of love inside

it’s all doom.

● A Young Time Traveler Goes To War●

(And the sad song that helped me more clearly visualize an episode in Traveler’s past I had wanted to write for a long time. https://youtu.be/GVW8_lvs_vs )

The time traveler cracked dust between his gritted teeth as he hauled himself across hot, scorched ground. The smoldering wreckage of his crashed fighter fizzled and popped twenty meters behind the jagged trail he left in the terrain as he clawed towards his time machine. He had to ditch his helmet after spilling out of the shattered cockpit of the fighter to avoid suffocating as it was no longer supplying him with breathable air.

This was bad because the air he was now breathing was poisonous as well as radioactive. It singed the back of his throat and burned his eyes.

He could see his time machine through his hazy vision. Almost there. This was good because outside of its temporally indifferent confines and advanced medical capabilities he only had minutes to live.

Far away on the horizon, against a ruined sky, the last of a fleet of giant airships fell into the jagged, decimated remains of a once great city. Burning with blue flames like a rapidly setting alien sun. He shut his eyes as he crawled but the blinding demise of the vessel still hurt as jagged psychedelic splotches crackled painfully like electricity arcing across his optic nerves. He could feel its impact through the ground accompanied by a sound like distant rolling thunder once the noise caught up with it. His eyes would be soaked with tears if the moisture did not instantly evaporat into the hot, toxic atmosphere.

This had been his first attempt to change the history of a world on such a vast scale. When he had first heard of this world and the cataclysmic, strife driven sterilization of its civilization he was so sure he could have changed the outcome of the events that led it to this end. He was so wrong. And now, out billions of souls, he was the only one left alive.

It was the hubris of a young time traveler that had brought him to this moment. The thinking that he was clever enough and could see deeply enough into the boiling pool of cause and effect that was time to prevent such a catastrophe.

Once at the door of his machine he popped a glove off his hand and slapped it with a bare palm. The pock marked mystery metal of its exterior was hot enough to burn his skin quite badly but the door slid open regardless. He hauled himself inside with the last of his strength and sealed it shut before passing out.

On the floor of the small airlock section the now activated time machine assessed his status and began to detoxify his exterior and rid him of radiation. He laid there for a long time before he was strong enough again to stand and strip himself of his tattered flight suit. He then made his way to the drive section and fell into the chair before the banks of screens and controls.

He took one last look at the lifeless, ravaged world outside but there was nothing left that he wanted to see. All that he knew of this world, everyone he cared about, fought with, for and even loved were all gone. Now there was only him.

He thought about going back and trying again. But then thought...why even try? It would only be more difficult the second time around and the outcome could be even worse. He barely survived this attempt.

He shut the screens off and limped into the sleeping quarters. He still needed major medical care. As he lay in the bunk and let the machine begin to tend to him with drugs and technology he came to a critical decision.

If wanted to continue traveling in time he would have to harden his heart, get accustomed to mind bending paradox and abandon normal human attachments and relationships for he would become far removed from any normal human. He would have to reconcile himself to the singularly isolating condition of existing outside of time.

But how could he not? It was so damned fun when he got it right. He clearly had a lot still to learn. The torment of this failed attempt to cheat time had taught him much. When he was well enough to move again he cleaned himself, donned a magnificent suit and once again sat before the controls. He needed a vacation. Time to piece his shattered heart and fractured mind back together.

He selected a more peaceful time deep in the planet’s past until he could figure out a way to take himself and his machine off this doomed world entirely. He could no longer bear the thought of staying here knowing what he knew of its future. The first step, he reckoned, in no longer caring. The time traveler lit a drug laidened cigarette, engaged the machine’s motors and faded away...alone.

@Raksti

the woman in the psych ward

commented on her face

I have a face tic, too

and we all watched

with agony at the damaged

complexion of

the other girl

but botox cured me

and the other girl nodded

her face moving in

the wrong directions

but otherwise in control

of her sanity

probably just a burnout

who needed to see others

equally out of control

of their bodies

neurons that fired incorrectly

with a connection to others

who are otherwise crazy