A Short Story Collection Idea

A book of controversy and questioning that I may be prompted to write, written in a stream of consciousness... I think

I don’t know where to begin.

It’s so hard to start. There seems to be no smooth way to enter this, no poetic way to control my writing, and now I am just stumbling over words, unsure where to go from here. I suppose I could go up, into everything I question. Heaven? There must be something like it, or there must have been something like it. I am not so sure now, as I look into a world that breathes out poison and suffocates itself in an attempt to rid itself of passion and creativity.

You have to admit- this world is not kind to those who do not live within its confines. Whenever one thinks of becoming a student to a profession that is not high paying then they are given looks of disbelief and disgust. Families are torn apart, choices are obliterated, and well… we’re left empty and without emotion thrust into jobs that really don’t do anything but ruin our lives.

Then you have teachers, who are paid dirt.
And you have athletes, who are paid to be gifted.

I don’t have a problem with them being paid, of course, athletes I mean. They do, occasionally, work hard. But to be paid more then a teacher? Especially a good teacher who gives growth, passion, and creativity to future generations? Maybe that explains why our world is so unhappy. Maybe that explains why so many people are beginning to look back on their lives and realize “s**t, I wasted a lot of time worrying and not enough time living.”

Limbo must be filled to the brim by now.

But wait, no one believes in limbo anymore, right? Maybe they say they are religious, and sure, they attend church, but most of the world doesn’t really care. They can see a homeless family on the side of the road, blink, and then make some terrible joke. Their children, in the back seat of their mini van, laugh too.

Moral consciousness has gone to the dogs.

Oh wait, I see your puzzlement now. The way you shake your head stubbornly and refuse to believe in what I tell you. I am too young to understand, after all. My mind can’t grasp the fullness of the situation, and even if it could I still can’t comprehend the exaggeration going into my words.

Oh good god idiot. Grow a pair.
You want proof of what I am trying to show you?

Our
World
Is
Falling.
The proof is in the way we live.
But I suppose I could tell you the story of a dreamer, or several of them, or a million of them. I suppose I could begin with a sweet “Once Upon a Time” and sing a little lullaby to lure you into sleep.

Or I could do something different.
I could tell you stories that will make you weep- fiction of course, to preserve your dignity.

I could tell you stories to make you scream,
Not in horror, but in sadness.

I could take you to another world, and spin you into their story as well- and then you would begin to understand what we lost so long ago- that magic that once thrummed in our bones.

Maybe- just maybe, I could make you see.
And then where would you be?

Reviews

[Crowley]

Terribly frustrating. I have had several friends who were, in my opinion some of the greatest teachers ever. Couldn't deal with the pay and more importantly couldn't deal with the parents that would not take responsibility for their kids, and when the rubber met the road would blame the teacher. To make things worse, the school would side with the teachers and even go as for as changing grades because of the fuss that the parents made. Holy s**t...don't pay them and then don't support them.

As to the homeless thing, I have always been of the opinion that, that could be me so easily. Lose a job, drink a little too much, get involved in something that becomes beyond my control. I don't think it is my place to judge their station in life. I do get chided sometimes for giving money, talking or buying food. I don't care. I have situations in my life that I am not proud of and I hope that my friends and family understand that I try.

Good thought provoking thread. I am going to post a poem I wrote that is about the same thing. Weird that I opened this one first.