Blog

fiction, writing

Dreams of the Destruction

I was being held down while that horrid serpent slithered freely. Ropes bound my feet and arms behind me. I was bruised all over and there were so many rogues surrounding me and laughing. What looked like a red and black beaten up turban was thrown from my head as my long brown hair fell in front of my face.

“How could you?” I pleaded. There was a man standing in front of me with black hair and seemed to be the leader of this den of thieves. He let out a chilling laugh. One that went right through to my bones. The men holding me kicked me a few times in the ribs as a punishment for my spoken words no doubt. The leader’s laugh subsided and he turned to me. I could not believe what I was seeing. This man had the same black hair, dark skin, and dark eyes… Kassim. What was going on? “You…you loved me once…”

“You should learn to stop being so naïve Jafar.” He said as he squatted down in front of me with a serious face. He had scars on his face and his clothes were ragged. “Do you really think I would allow the Royal Vasir of the King of the Seven Seas to leave the den of the 40 thieves on his own? Your heart has changed as has mine. This world is dark and lonely. We can only do things for ourselves. You hated your life as the Royal Vasir’s son and now you are the Vasir to the most famous King in all of Arabia. What a filthy hypocrite.”

“D…do what every you want with me Kassim… I do not know what happened to you but my wife and daughter do not deserve this. They are innocent and…”

“Innocent?” Kassim seethed. “We were innocent children once. Foolish lovers who thought we could live a life together. Then the real world fell upon us. Have you even told your loving wife and daughter the truth? I could imagine their devastation after finding out what had truly happened to your father, the Sultan, and the Prince that you served as a Vizier in training. Even the events surrounding your finding your precious King is shrouded in blood.”

“Silence! They do not need to know my past. I have put my past behind me.”

“Clearly.” My old friend said with a sinister smile. “Put it behind you so far you never even thought to make sure that I had gotten to a good place once I escaped. Had you ever even tried to find me?”

I felt myself going silent as the cobra hissed angrily at me before Kassim’s younger and more frantic voice awoke me from this trauma.

Advertisements
Mental Health, perseverance, Philosophy, spirituality

Free Will

I had spent many years in retail after obtaining an Associates Degree in General Studies. As my chronic pain condition (suspected Fibromyalgia) and Generalized Anxiety Disorder worsened it got harder and harder to handle it. I took an online course in freelance writing because I was so curious on if I was interested in this or not. At the time I realized that I was and enrolled in my local University, West Chester University of Pennsylvania. For two years I started to realize I could not handle commuting back and forth and upholding good grades full time so I switched to half-time.

I still struggled because of the long commutes, obligations from toxic friends who insisted on me giving them attention (I had finally gotten rid of them by now), and attempting to do work study along with classes. When I looked into SNHU I realized that this was honestly the easier way for me to learn. I have various learning disorders, and this program helps me in ways the other school could not. The program was better as well since I did not have to go through various language classes for an English degree.

Currently, I realized after attempting to do some freelance writing while I was in the market for a new job (which I finally achieved one) I realized that my love of writing was more-so on the casual pace. I love writing blogs and fictional stories, but the stress of attempting to find clients and such was just not for me. I had been able to get some experience in it, but I was not enjoying it like I thought I would. When I decided to go to Penn Foster alongside SNHU for Medical Administrative Assistant, I realized maybe I should get into the medical field. It had always interested me since I was a child. So, I am currently asking to change my major. I do not want to be a nurse or a doctor, but I do want to possibly work as a Medical Assistant (I’m not sure yet because of the physical demands), get EMS training (just for personal curiosity and want to help people in an emergency such as a natural disaster or something), etc. I want to start with the administrative level since a less physical job is perfect for my pain condition.

The reason I am sharing my story is because of this discussion topic. I did not have to go back to College. I could have just worked and worked until I was able to find something better. The reason I went is that I wanted to follow my dreams even if they are ever changing. English was not meant for me, but now I believe the medical field is. It interests me. When I was little I watched surgery shows. While my mother and Gram turned away, I was fascinated with the blood and how people were fixed up. Even the idea of doing sutures is interesting to me. (If I don’t end up going through EMS training I might get a training kit from Amazon just to see what to do. I won’t be the first to do it but if no one is around and its days or miles from help its good to know).

If I did not have “free will” I would have just done what my family wanted me to do and find some government job or live off of Social Security Disability after getting diagnoses (if that). I think that having free will or not having free will depends on the person. If someone does things because of their environment, because society says so, or because they don’t believe they are able to do anything else that no, they do not have free will. Someone brainwashed by friends, certain societies, even some extreme religious groups are not able to control their own actions. Stepping away from that and doing what “you” want and dream of is what gives free will. That is what I believe. Free will depends on your choices.

fiction, writing

Beginning of Fate

It was a few days after I had awoken from my comatose state. I was walking the halls of the Palace trying to refamiliarize myself with the ins and outs when I saw him. He was only about the age of ten at the time.

“Stop being so careless slave!” the brat of a Prince was forcing his personal guard to whip the young man to oblivion. The flogging was so hard and forceful that bits of flesh and blood littered the ground as if it were a scene of someone being killed. It turned my stomach to see someone being treated with such violence.

“W…wait! Leave him alone!” I exclaimed. It was the first words I had actually spoken since I had come back to the “life” as my father described it. Even from that young of an age, I felt as if any injustice should be dealt with. No one should live a life in fear or anguish.

“Jafar? You speak to me like this? I am your prince and you are meant to serve me as Vizier one day,” the pompous prince glared. “Shall I teach you a lesson as well?”

“I…um…” Since I was still so young and naïve I had not a clue what to say to Prince Haroun of Anfanka?

“What is going on here?” My father’s voice rang from behind me. “Jafar, what have you done to disturb the Prince?”

“F…father… why…. Is he hitting this boy?” I asked timidly. I feared my father just as much as I feared the Prince and the Sultan. I was a coward. A stain on the ideals of a future Vizier.

“Son, this boy has no rights. He is but a lowly slave boy of our Palace.”

“Then… why…why can he not… be my slave? I do not like how he is being treated,” I begged. I doubted that I would be able to get my way but something changed in my father’s eyes.“That is the best idea that has come out of your mouth in your entire life. Very well, I will ask permission from the Sultan and allow this boy to be yours. This will teach you what it is like to own slaves.”

Philosophy, writing

Reincarnated Souls vs Zombies

I’m not much of a fan of zombies, yet I love Resident Evil (I can only watch. I’m too much of a wimp to actually play). On a serious note though, since I think of the soul and the body as two separate entities, I think that an answer to the question is no. I believe that the human brain and body are really just vessels to hold the soul in the same way that all creatures are vessels for the soul.

My take on reincarnation, is that the soul is the part that is the real “you.” The many lives you live with the soul is what makes the being and the history of your true self. In every life, you are given a clean slate. A chance to make up for the good or bad karma from previous lives even if you do not remember it.

For me, all my life I felt empty as if something was missing. I never really felt like “myself” and instead compared myself to others, fictional or otherwise. The Catholic faith was not enough for me. It was hard to believe that when you die you just go to Heaven or Hell. It never made sense to me that this was my only chance at life. When I finally got out of Catholic School and searched around for an awnser I went through various beliefs. At first, I went strictly of the Wiccan faith and was mislead and manipulated by others. In the end, I finally broke away from them and realized they were simply blocking me from my full potential.

The first memory I had was a dream. I was angry at a King who had killed my lover. I still remember the robes he wore. Red with black embellishments. After this is when I realized I was the daughter of that King. Since then I have learned so many different lives my soul had lived. When that happened, that hole in my heart (or soul) felt as if it was filled. Even though those I called “friends” wanted me to move on from them, I felt a different way. As though these lives were part of my true self. I was not supposed to let them go. I was supposed to take hold of them, accept them as part of my personal path in the universe. This difference in opinion lead to my losing many friends, but then I found new ones. These new friends accepted me for who I was past, present, and future. I even found the soul of the person I have loved as far back as my memories took me. My “soul-mate” if you will. We talk about our memories as if they were simply part of our live. We banter about the old times, good and bad.

Because of these experiences, my personal belief is that the soul that lives through many lives is vastly different than the physical human body. I believe the soul takes hold of the entire being when a new life is born and that is why the Chakras develop. The energy one lets out through the chakras and soul is what makes a person a person.

With the idea of zombies, I think that it is simply the physical body. Whatever reanimates the body to become a “zombie” I think is very separate from the soul itself. The brain controls the physical body and without a soul, the body is just a body. Not a person. The self-awareness I feel comes from the soul.

fiction, writing

The First Dream

Hissss, Hissss,” the serpent spoke as it surrounded the bloody scene. Lifeless corpses littered the once pure white marble halls of this grand palace. Crimson painted the golden walls while fire and ash scattered the night’s sky blocking out every star that shone down upon the kingdom. The Cobra, regal as its namesake, slithered towards the center of the carnage which brought my attention to the equally royal human as he knelt before me.

            He was broken. Tears welled up in his perfectly grey eyes as he held my body close to him. The soft jingle of the gold decorating his ears and neck were enough to cause me pains in my chest stronger than that of my wounds. He had won his kingdom. Started out with nothing and I helped groom him to be the greatest King of the Seven Seas. Most of the jewels he wore were given to him as a gift. His long golden-brown hair fell from his perfect tie sopping up the thick liquid coming from my wounds.

Looking back on this pathetic life, there was so many things that I could have done differently. Especially when it came to those I loved. There was so much regret. It hurt me to hear him plead for my life. After all we had been through I had never lost the love I felt for him.

“Do not die on me. I forgive you so please do not leave me again.” His voice was just a whisper that went through my heart like a sharp needle. His tears were wasted. Why should he weep for me? All I had done was bring pain and trouble to him from the moment we met.

            “No, I cannot. After everything I have done I do not deserve it.” I murmured weakly.

            I felt the blood draining from my broken body. So… tired. His wet tears fell like an unsteady river as he cradled me.

“I will never marry.” He placed a warm hand on my cheek and kissed me tenderly as if to a sleeping newborn. “Never,” he repeated.

The serpent once more came into view as it coiled around my arm with his deadly fangs dangerously close to my jugular. It spoke to me in the softest voice that was almost inaudible. “Jafaaar…” she hissed. The next words I did not hear as the past slowly bled into the present.