We argue and fight. Nothing has changed for thirty years now, the same nation split into two over disagreements and misunderstandings, as a result, a turmoil of horror always hanging over our heads. We barely get enough sleep to open our saddened weary eyes.

We live in constant fear of gunfire.

War then becomes a profitable commodity of loss. It is such a seductive and explosive chemistry; once it’s stared, it ignites like wildfire, and it doesn’t just stop at one place, but only when everything is simmered to shards of ashes.

Someone once said that if you’re willing to pay attention and listen before talking or killing, you can save yourself from the guilts of losing your soul. You can avoid time-consuming and disastrous debates, meetings, and maybe even come out on top winning, of course, if that’s your main goal. Yet, most people still don’t have a clue how to go about doing either of those actions, controlling their fuming rages during arguments. It always ends with burning the same bridge twice, opening a window for darkness to creep in and start eradicating whatever comes defying it.

The same is happening today. We’re still arguing and fighting, even during a vital national security conference, in which the two groups are unable to bend the curves, lending ears, and letting hearts do the talking instead of their logical minds. An argument without a change of perspectives at the end is just a war between body and soul.

It’s hot on a cold January day. Just like any other day throughout the year, it’s raining outside today, pouring down like Babylon fire. We got used to the cold, blistering weather here. We only get a few months to salvage the beauty of nature to go outside and chase the dandelions. I guess when you stop searching for the lights, you can find comfort in odd places, even in the trenches of darkness. Sometimes, acceptance brings peace out of the wreckages of desolation, if you settle down with the soft outcries that dance in your head.

People need to listen to those soft voices behind the hidden chanting clatters that burn the house.

We walk into the building with absent minds and cold hearts.

Once the elevator reached the 23 floors, we’re led to the same conference room that we’ve gathered many times before. We know our sides, and where we should be sitting down by heart separately. We walk into the bright room and assume our positions, our tiger eyes blazing like gunfire at each other.

The moderators watch as we shake our stained hands in disdain. We bring ourselves to sit. Suddenly, everything stops, time freezes, so quiet we can hear a pin drop. Nobody’s breathing air or saying a thing.

An infrangible silence is swirling and suffocating the room, burning it like acid, peeling the parched flesh off, almost turning the occupying living things in it into pieces. If the outsider moderators are not staying put as guardians and peacekeepers, we, the enemies who are sitting on the opposite sides of the big table seem anxious to reach to the other aisle and tear each other apart like wild animals, until each is left with nothing but decayed and broken bones. We’re all been here before, screaming at each other to uphold our own truth about the border conflict, yet each meeting has ended disastrously, further plunging our regions into more chaos and turmoil.

We both lack cohesive communication skills, ears that listen and retain the music of the soundwave of the crying souls who are living or lying dead painfully. We never set aside our differences to see anyone’s points but charged making the opposite side an agitator or presumed enemy by default; that’s how we’ve been missing to see the bigger picture of the problem in producing an everlasting and stable solution.

For all these bleak and wasteful years, the key ingredient missing from all these is listening, openness, and tolerance; a communication without one of them is meaningless like blowing a breath of fire away into the wild wind.

Some of the best arguments I’ve ever had are ones that I have lost. Those are the ones that really meant something; the ones that gave me a more rational perspective and helped to dismantle some of my various indoctrinations. People often have the wrong idea about conversations these days; They think that the ultimate goal of a conversation is to win it. The real goal should be to find the truth. I know, it’s a rough blow to the self-esteem matrix, it’s tough for me too (I still find myself trying to win arguments sometimes, if I’m perfectly honest, it’s all part of our competitive nature.) But perhaps we have to override that monkey shit and start being human beings from time-to-time. It’s not that far-fetched. We allow other opinions to change the way we look all the time (even those with rebellious fashion trends are still effected by what they’re rebelling against) but I understand that it is altogether more intrusive to allow other opinions to change the way we think. On the one hand, if you’re so open minded that you let just anybody change your opinion, you end up practically insane, and lacking any definition of self. I’m not advocating for that kind of willy-nilly influence-soaking. But I really do think it’s beneficial to realise that there are other humans out there who know more than you know, think more than you think, and are naturally inclined to share their revelations. So, because of this, now when I’m in an argument, I don’t worry so much about losing. I worry about being wrong. ... And I think that that’s probably the one thing I’m getting right.

That moment you know what you're about to say is going to make you extremely vulnerable or look like a complete idiot, but then you say it anyways because this little courageous voice says "go for it! What's the worst that could happen?"

So then you do and sure enough, you make a complete fool of yourself. Those irreversible words that will forever haunt you. Here's what I said.

"I might sound like a crazy person, but I like you. And I feel like life could be an exciting adventure if you were in it. You're a little bit of a dick but genuine and actually really kind. Of all the people I've dated lately I enjoy your company the most. By far. Enough that I'd move to Florida for you. I think you're great. So there ya go- heart on my sleeve. Normally wouldn't be quite so honest with someone that I don't know feels the same way but you're leaving so I have nothing to lose."

I had a lot to lose. Including but not limited to; my pride, self respect, dignity, a whole heart etc.

His response: "I think I've been clear how I feel."

And that is all.

So - communication. Is it key? I think I'll hold off on further communication and see how that works out. Maybe there's a chance I can recover at least a shred of my dignity. If you need me, I'll be under that rock over there.

The President came out to visit my state this week. It’s because we’re on fire again.

Worse than the last three or four times thanks to freak thunderstorms we never get suddenly raining lighting down on a dry, brittle state that’s had over a decade of droughts.

When he visited, our governor prepared a very simple presentation packet for him which a media outlet snagged a copy of and preceded to laugh about - all large photos, gigantic font with bare minimum words per slide, and very large, easy-to-read graphs. They suggested the presentation made fun of the President’s intelligence; however, the governor’s office pointed out they’d been briefed by White House officials that the President preferred visuals over text-heavy reports.

And a key reason they needed the President to actually get through that report was highlighted by one simple graph which showed the amount of Federally owned/managed forest land in California at a whopping 57%; the remaining forestry fell 40% under private ownership with a tiny sliver of 3% owned/managed by the State of California.

Up till now our President has consistently dissed California for failing to manage its forests - which, as that graph clearly shows, isn’t exactly a fair truth. California only owns 3% of the forests to manage; granted it could possibly do more to coerce its 40% private owners to take better stewardship over their lands (a fact those voters likely would protest as the actions of a “nanny” state, and the President might agree). However, we’re still at the mercy of Federal oversight/management for over half of the remaining forests.

Which means we need the Federal government to recognize their role and responsibility in helping manage our forests and fire response. We can’t simply tell the President to F-off and keep his climate skepticism to himself, much as we might like to.

Communication exists mainly because we’ve evolved as social animals. Our greatest, lasting monuments - the great pyramids both in the Middle East and South/Latin America, the giant wall in China, the great aqueducts and ruins of Greece - all of that was built by combined human effort. We rely on each other to do better - to innovate, inspire, achieve, and thrive rather than just survive.

When we give up trying to communicate is where I feel society starts to break down. We can’t simply decide which reality we want to live in and ignore the other side; it doesn’t work that way. Our actions, policies, and economies are inextricably bound together. California isn’t the only state on fire now - our neighbors Oregon and Washington have joined suit. Meanwhile our cousins on the East Coast are facing yet another horrific hurricane season. I call my friends in Florida to hear they’re underwater, while I’m inside trying not to choke on smoke. We’re all feeling the effects of shifting seasons, where instead of discussing how to prevent the wildfires my leaders are literally discussing how to live with the new reality of them.

Yet communication requires two parties to work. No matter how nicely, kindly, or passionately you try, if the other side has already decided what they’re going to believe or do, you’re sunk. It’s harder still if they’re not living with the reality of wildfires, hurricanes, or droughts (yet). Those insulated from the immediate effects of such things can very easiliy ignore them. No amount of big charts, pictures, or font will save you.

Which is sadly why despite the new reality of annual fires and smoke inhalation, many of my California friends stubbornly insist they will die in this state. The fires don’t deter them - rather, the growing heat of anger, denial, and ignorance they perceive in the other states around them does. They would rather save their breath for smoky skies than waste it on deaf ears.

I can’t say I blame them, however for my part - I can’t stop trying to communicate either. I might try communicating smarter, harder, nicer, sterner, whatever I can do. But if I give up trying, it feels like I’ve amputated a part of my humanity.

So if I seem preachy, or run my typers away on a rant, please believe it’s not because I hate or detest you.

It’s because I honestly need you, and I can’t give up on trying to get through somehow.

If it gets too overwhelming though - just bring up coffee. My attention span isn’t so great and we can always refocus on things we agree are necessary for human survival.

However if you can’t acknowledge coffee, or at the very least tea, we may have truly irreconcilable differences.

Communication is breaking our skin.

It is so much more than words. It is because we are and we need others know that we are and what we are.

It is not words. But it is also actions, it is art, it is sighs and it is signs.

Do you need words that say "I am happy"? Or do you dance?

Words that say "I care"? Or a hug?

Words to say "I love you"? Or a kiss?

Does a painting not speak to you if it has no written words?

Or a songs melody if it has no lyrics?

If I sigh deeply, will you not understand my state? And if I shrug, will it not make sense?

Communication is coexistence. Words are only a tool for your mind.

“Why do you care?” he asked me. It was late and he was drunk, I knew that. He didn’t like me ruining his fun, but I knew if he drank anymore he wouldn’t be able to make it to that interview the next morning. The question shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, but I couldn’t help it. After 4 years of being by his side, he had the nerve to ask why I cared. Well, I suppose I was never really by his side, more like two paces behind. Always ready to catch him if he fell and boy did he fall. When his fiancé dumped him, I was the one who got back the ring. When his mother died, I was the one who made the funeral arrangements. When he lost his job, I let him stay with me while he continued looking. No matter what blows he’d been dealt, I was on standby ready to patch him up. It hurt knowing after all this time, I was still as transparent to him as I’ve always been. It’s my fault for sticking around. My sister warned me, told me to give it up before I got hurt. Well, it was too late now, that man owned my heart and he didn’t even know it. What could I say to him now? I care because I’ve been hopelessly in love with you. I care because even if you never love me, I want to help you achieve your dreams. I care because I love getting hurt by you.

“I don’t,’’ I finally responded.

To communicate is to come to understand. We shape the world with out words and utter sounds to demonstrate the innerworkings of our hearts. It is as we play a combination of keys on a piano to make a new sound, we erupt feelings of joy and sadness and anger and fear. We express ourselves to be seen. To craft our own image and paint our perspective. What would life be without these intimate connections drawn from the complexity of language? How much we can convey with just a look. This is the meaning of life that we should value! How lonely we would be if not for these glorious tools. The most effient way to understand the world is to come to see it through someone else's eyes. We are our experiences and the people in our lives. Everything is communication and communication is everything.

I think that Abraham Maslow said it best. That there are two driving factors in everyone's life. The fear of death and the fear of life. The fear of death representing a fear of blending in so much so that you lose your individuality and are no different from the person next to you. The fear of life representing the fear of being in the spotlight and all the thrills and responsibilities that go along with it.

A big part of communication is not just getting tasks done or trying to express your feelings. But in a strange way its a form of immortality. Whether it's on a grand scale like writing a timeless classic that people will read for hundreds of years or a world-changing speech that will be remembered for all time. Or on a smaller scale, you speak words that inspire one to change or brighten someone's day or make your friends laugh. You are ingraining yourself into someone else's psyche. Thus cementing your place forever in someone's mind.

When I was in high school I loved writing poetry and short stories. I started college focusing on journalism/creative writing, but ultimately abandoned those for a teaching degree. I currently work as a Pre-K teacher, but I have rediscovered a love for acting that I thought I had left behind in high school Drama Club. I love a great story created by great writers and brought to life by great actors, directors, producers, and many other contributors, and the stories I enjoy have helped me through dark times and inspired me to live a better life. Stories are one of the greatest methods of communication - we can be taught, encouraged, and entertained by them. Jesus Himself taught many of His greatest lessons through the use of storytelling. Thanks to my wife's encouragement, my ultimate career goal is to become a voice actor that contributes to the art of storytelling. I am working towards that dream by gaining acting experience through working as a haunted house actor and through acting in a murder mystery troupe. I am also consuming great voice acting through video games and animes, and I am learning from observing voice actor panels whenever I can. I have rediscovered my love for writing thanks to a couple of Bible journaling communities I joined during quarantine, and I have also been inspired by one of my best friends, whom is an independent author (Erin Kelly, author of the Tainted Moonlight series). I have been checking out other authors at anime/comic conventions as well, and all of the great writing and stories out there have given me the desire to try and pen my own. I am not likely going to make a career out of writing, but I write in the hope of inspiring others, just like the many whom have inspired me. I am finding myself thinking more and building creativity through writing (especially with these Prose writing challenges), and any creativity I develop will help me as I continue to teach and develop my acting career. Teaching and acting communicate stories and messages (as do many other careers and endeavors), and writing not only works as a timeless form of communication, but also is the backbone of so many other forms of communication too. So thank you for this writing challenge, and thank you for another opportunity to write!

I forgot what peace is

and I don’t know how to find it.

Been searching my whole life for answers,

I know I can be a bit defiant.

Talkings never been my strong suit

And I won’t even try to hide it.

Feelings are sometimes hidden by a layer or two,

To be honest sometimes I can’t even find them.

I’m not gonna sit here and say I’m fine

Because lying’s never been alright.

But I can’t really communicate words,

Since my mouth and mind are in a fight.

~ “It’s written on paper so I can’t st stutter this time.”