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Darkness

| sfarzamfar

Fluctuating between the dehydration and starvation

I find a darkness is the only thing I can trust.

Being tied down with no rope to a chair that

does doesn’t exist in a dark room that is in my head.

Shackles on my feet but these shackles not only bind,

they also drain the potential of a better fortnight.

 

Alone and scared I can’t even feel the walls for a light

switch knowing even if there is one it won’t work.

So I sit in silence knowing my voice stays within my head

forever hungry… forever thirsty… forever silent…

 

Banging was all I could even hear from the cellar door if it even is a cellar. the assholes didn’t even put a clock in here so I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. From the sound of my stomach I’ve missed at least two meals. Darkness has consumed the room and not even a flicker of light is in the room; nothing to cause even the slightest reflection in my eye so I could see how big the room is. for all I know I could be in a football field sized maze. But real estate is expensive so I must be in a cellar of sorts. Darkness in the room has been spread like a ripened jam on bread. great, now even my similes are food based.

My stomach grumbles a mighty roar that Could be hear for at least 50 yards. That’s when they enter. The beasts enter with a hurry and knock me down. Sure seems fair when I can’t see. They insert something into my arm and it nicks my shoulder coming out and I could see the darkness literally spinning.

I awaken strapped into a dentists chair With a beaming light hitting me right in the face. The light helps me see a little around me. The ground has been drawn on with a white chalk. I see a star drawn with 5 points. at the end of each point is a hooded figure. each sheathing a blade. The one standing in front of me begins to chant some sort of prayer in what seems like an old English or Latin.

“Pater tenebris hanc igitur oblationem.” he yells. once he is finished the other start chanting it in unison.

“Pater tenebris hanc igitur oblationem.”

“Pater tenebris hanc igitur oblationem.”

“Pater tenebris hanc igitur oblationem.”

“Pater tenebris hanc igitur oblationem.”

Once they finish they all pounce forward and unsheathe their blade. I feel The first one pound my liver. The second Hits my thigh and I never feel anything again.

 

I kinda had this story in my book from the beginning of the year so I decided to make a poem and extend it. The gibberish you hear in the story (Pater tenebris hanc igitur oblationem) roughly translates to “father Darkness accept this offering.”

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White Light

| sfarzamfar

The grass was changing into the autumn gold. The trees preparing for the merciless snow to come. Wind blows into my ear and leaves my spine in a chilled state. I head inside the bar to warm up and I find myself ordering myself a drink seconds upon entering.

I have planned this date for a week now. Somewhere in that broken bar, where men lurk in the light prowling for intimacy, could be the love of my life. My dying wish and my orchid. Ironically, I bought a rose for her. Here is where she will unveil her white wings of life and release her delicate beating heart. That Heart full of joy and solace, can not compare to anything any mere mortal has seen or touched. A goddess materializes into my sight from across the light of the broken pool table and town drunk. A white blouse and smile. Spectacles encase my eyes and the only clear thing is her. Her and her white innocence.

Alas I have found mi amor. We catch a cab to get out of the crowded bar and to her place. The tender night of love and delight begins with the encasing of my lips to hers. My hands on her hips and neck. I pull her closer like a predator about to feast on its prey. We adjourn from the door to the table then the couch and finally her bedroom.

The lust for her grows as the night extends into the sleep of the moon and a bright light awakens me. I hear her voice for the first time since the bar. I can’t even remember it but the euphoric thought of the night comforts me.

…..That could have been my night if I ever had the courage to talk to her. instead I saw her and got embarrassed and left I couldn’t look at her with my nose starting to bleed and I could feel her intimidating aura and I left the bar. I went home to my 4 cats; Mittens, Liddy, Dandy, and Billeth. The white of my eyes turns to red as tears drop down my wrinkled face. 12 years since that night and I’m still sitting here at home only all alone not even a white cat.

 

We had done an exercise using Color and I decided that White is a great color because I can have so many different meanings based on the context. Like in this story I splashed it into the theme of a buried life.

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The Ballad of Bill

| sfarzamfar

Thank you for the tale of your amazing life and all the advice you gave us for ours.

-Lucas and Sam

The Ballad of Bill Fiylk

It was a dusky day with chilling airAnd snow piled all around.

The sky was grey, and I must say,

The sun could not be found.

Perhaps the weather had dulled my soul,

Perhaps I need to confess

That I was feeling mighty blue

From mortality and from stress.

But chance may have it that in my luck,

And on that dusky day,

That I met a man by the name of Bill

And this is what he had to say:

You seem nice boy, you from the city?

Ya’ see I grew up on a farm.

My hips do suck from riding horses

(But that didn’t hinder his charm).

Now as I grew up I tried many things,

(He sighed as he emptied his lung)

I tried to join the Air Force,

But they said that I was just too young.

So I packed my bags and left home

With only four bucks to my name.

I headed west to Vancouver,

For my mechanics license to claim.

Of course I found a lot of work,

I put my mechanic skills to the test,

But on top of that I’d sing and strum

My guitar with zeal and zest.

I made my way back East,

Got a real job and some rest,

I guess the moral of that story is,

“Whatever you do, go for the best.”

It was at this point of his story

That I took notice of Bill’s eyes,

Like murky light blue water,

Or cloudy, piercing skies.

 His hands were gaunt with thinning skin,The digits were rough and bent,

The white hairs approached the calloused palms,

They looked like a life well spent.

And on his face a cheery glow

Of ecstasy in his cheeks,

I can see from the age that Bill may be,

He’s overcome many peaks.

So I built up the courage to ask the man,

About what he’s overcome,

The hardest obstacle he has faced,

And he responded looking glum:

Now in my life, I have faced

A difficult thing or two,

But perhaps the worst of all of these

Was the loss of my first wife, who

I did lose, as is our lives,

We’ll never know why or when.

You may get married once or twice,

But we all learn to love again.

You can sit around and wait,

Or you can give up and quit.
But “nothing gets done by itself,

You have gotta do it.”

I thanked him for his time,

As my uncertainty he had fought,

From his story and his words

I had learnt a lot.

That to live your life was to try,

To try, and try some more,

Give your best and all you’ve got,

Until you’re too good to ignore.

With a handshake and a farewell,

And a blessing to all his ilk,

I left the company of the man,

By the name of Bill Fiylk.

Unknown. “Old Man’s Hands.” Photo. pinterest Unknown. Dec. 14, 2017. <https://www.pinterest.ca/explore/old-hands/>

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A Coffee Shop

| sfarzamfar

She never belonged anywhere. This was not her world, this was her parent’s. They dictated her life, values, and choices. She was not one to speak but, 17 years of this tyrannical puppeteering was enough. Her father never payed any heed to her when she would describe the worlds outside, like the ones on the television. Friends would meet at coffee shops just to drink and talk about their minuscule problems. The wondrous planet of animals interacting and creating beautiful fields of flowers just by touching, not talking. A constant traffic in every ecosystem like the bazaar she would go to with her father as a child.

Her father had a different recollection of the world. He had seen villages burn and empires crumble. He had seen acts of aggression, like the destruction of a car that blew up into a million specks of dust, in a crowded park just to put fear in the regulars of that park and the community. He had seen cities swept away by an ocean not even Poseidon himself could not stop. He saw a child hungry, alone, and crying for its mother, with no one to answer.

He’d seen families get torn apart based on a war governments want to fight. The only one who suffers is not Uncle Sam, who claims he’s, “for the people.” Rather it is the sons, daughters, mothers, and fathers who perish, and with them a sense of family for their loved ones. He saw people criticize an entire generation for being to lazy when all they wanted to do was make it easier for their future generations to thrive.

He saw a mythical troll sit behind a keyboard and still hurt as much as he did under a bridge. He saw boys no older than 16 and girls no older than 14 end all hope from the cut of a knife or the grasp of a rope on their tender necks. He saw the love of his life get eaten from the inside out by her own body like a wake of vultures surrounding a decay body, But this body was still living and breathing.

He had seen the truth. There are no flower-infested fields, rather plague-scattered hospices and terror-driven countries closing off from others. All because of how they look or who they look up to. The planet of animals is overrun by concrete blocks and mindless workers working only for some S’s with a line through it. These slaves wake every morning to a loud alarm to use the loud automobile they bought to head to the loud office they hate, only finding two weeks of solace through a vacation to another island where others slave away their lives. There is no coffee shop, no matter how badly we want there to be one. We all want a drink there, but only the ignorant get a seat and others must wallow.

I wrote this after being really moved by a piece we read in class. If only I wrote down the name of the piece. It really moved me to write this piece on most of the things that are hurting our society.

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Science of Heartbreak

| sfarzamfar

Love was one of the first human discoveries, and about 2 years and 9 months later, heartbreak was discovered. That is the average length of a love-relationship in this day and age. There are many reasons for heartbreak but, I’m looking at the physical and mental impact it has on us.

Image result for broken heart

Heartbreak is a wall. Not many of us can overcome it on the first try. Everyone experiences it in different ways all based on gender and beliefs. Around the world, there are relationships shattering and destroying a vital organ. As a result, humans are most vulnerable both emotionally and physically, after a love-relationship breakup. Scientifically, the name for a broken heart is: Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, or broken heart syndrome. It is caused when the heart muscle stuns, it also starts to deform and change its shape. This occurs usually after a physically or emotionally stressful event. to make matters worse it can also happen from a sudden burst of happiness like winning the lottery.

Image result for broken heart

She had won the lottery. He was the perfect boy; he knew how to treat her like she wanted. She was his world and he was hers. They were perfect together. He always planned the dates perfectly and for the few months she was happy. Then things changed. She never understood why but, when the words came out of his mouth, she was pulverized. She couldn’t believe it. She had lost him.

She could feel her body lose control, the pain made living in her body unbearable. The first week she gained 5 pounds, the second she lost 10. She was addicted and once she lost it, she went into withdrawal, she became depressed. She wanted to be alone, her hormones suffocated her as if she was in a collapsing building. She eventually got through it, but only after she met another.

 

   “Please don’t let this one be like the last one.” she whispered to herself over and over again.

Image result for broken heart

     Heartbreak is a serious issue that many people face around the world, it has no remorse. It affects the rich and the poor, the careful and reckless, and the old and young.

This disease is especially dangerous for the old and fragile. Making it an unforgiving biological gunman. Multiple studies conducted in 2008 inferred that when in bereavement a spouse will have a higher mortality rate. They are six times more likely to die due to natural causes. Love is the most natural cocaine the body produces. Similar to any addiction, once off of it a person goes through withdrawal. Symptoms can include:

  • Increased sensitivity to pain.
  • Irritability.
  • Emotional instability, anxiety and depression.
  • Restlessness or insomnia.
  • Sweating, hot flashes.
  • Flu-like symptoms: weakness, body aches and headaches.
  • Lack of or increased appetite.

The disgusting part of all of this is that we are all told, “oh, you will get over it. Just don’t think about it.” Thoughts like these is why heartbreak is still a rampant issue not being treated. Heartbreak is thought of more as an idea than it is a virus, bacteria, or infection even though it is identical to them. Due to this, not enough research has been done on it to give us concrete evidence.

 

Engle, Gigi. “The Pain Is Real: 8 Scientific Effects Heartbreak Has On The Body.” Elite Daily, Elite Daily, 9 Oct. 2017,  www.elitedaily.com/dating/scientific-reasons-why-a-broken-heart-is-really-bad-for-you/970609

. “Future – How Love and Heartache Affect the Body.” BBC, BBC, 13 Feb. 2015, www.bbc.com/future/story/20150213-how-love-and-heartbreak-affect-us.

Kross, E, et al. “Social Rejection Shares Somatosensory Representations with Physical Pain.”Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America., U.S. National Library of Medicine, 12 Apr. 2011, www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21444827.

. “Heightened Mortality after the Death of a Spouse: Marriage Protection or Marriage Selection?” Journal of Health Economics, North-Holland, 11 Apr. 2008, www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0167629608000337.

. “Drug Withdrawal Symptoms | Drug Detox and Addiction Treatment | Futures of Palm Beach.” Futures of Palm Beach FL Addiction Treatment, Rehab, and Detox Center, 0ADAD, www.futuresofpalmbeach.com/addiction-treatment/drug-alcohol-detox/coping-with-withdrawal-symptoms/.

. “Alone.” Thedailybeast.com, 0ADAD, img.thedailybeast.com/image/upload/v1492121669/articles/2015/11/19/can-you-die-from-a-broken-heart/151119-sepkowitz-brokenheart-tease_ncqlb8.jpg.

. “Free Image on Pixabay – Heart, Broken Heart, Faces, Man.” Free Illustration: Heart, Broken Heart, Faces, Man – Free Image on Pixabay – 2021561, 0ADAD, pixabay.com/p-2021561/?no_redirect.

 

 

 

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A-Z Stories

| sfarzamfar

D is For Desk

I’ve been trapped here for the last 4 hours. I can’t see anything but piles and piles of worksheets and formulas. Through the piles though, I see a computer shining the warmest and most comforting 7 letters known to an average millennial: N, E, T, F, L, I, X. It has become the only thing that pulls me back like a magnet towards this wretched desk, instead of outside to finish the rest of this assignment. Like a caged bird, I have no escape. This is my only line of communication with the outside world. Everyone is out spending time with friends at malls and other wallet-crippling destinations. With me being as cheap as I am, I was not going to fork over money just to hang out with friends. You may be wondering how I got here, It’s quite simple in fact. It all started in middle school, when I decided I want to do something with my life, biggest mistake ever. I had brought upon myself a curse that would bind me to this chair for the next 4 years. I first entered my prison similar to how a separated father sees his kids only during weekends. I was like that, I would sit in this prison only on weekends or nights before a enormous test. Gradually, I would see myself staying here for longer and longer. It has come to the point where this is the first and last place I go to after school. I have been temporarily locked here for about 2 months now and from how my schedule for next semester looks, this desk may as well be the Canadian version of Alcatraz. The only snorkel I have in this dark pit is this site (oh, this lovely site) and my beloved shows that I cherish dearly. Things like Stranger Things and my favorite show How I Met Your Mother are the only releases I have from this unforgiving slab of wood I call a desk. A light snack and a full water bottle will get me through at least a season and a half depending on the length of the season and episodes contained in those seasons. But for now I’m stuck here.

 

W is for Work

One of the few times I did leave the home though was to acquire more currency, through the emotional labor of the fast food industry. I went to work on the eleventh of November; Remembrance Day. I saw many people walking in from all different ethnicities coming to enjoy a meal at their local Panda Express (my place of labor). What was interesting that particular day was that 90% of those people all wore a poppy over their heart. Usually during early November it was either soldiers or their families, but today was different. As I cleaned tables and washed trays, I overheard multiple bits and pieces of people talking about a deceased or active family member in the Army, Navy, or Air force. I would hear small comments like:

“My grandfather was right there on Vimy Ridge. I could never imagine myself being there.”

I overheard a young man maybe early 20’s talking to what looked like his grandfather.

“In Vietnam I lost many friends. I didn’t die there but some part of me did.”

After hearing these little snippets of dread and pain I had a new found respect for our troops. When the clock struck 11:10 I could see people starting too bow their heads and the restaurant went silent for a minute and then everything went back to the way it was. It was the most incredible thing I have ever seen and it was a true spectacle how everyone can bond in this nation over the pain and struggles of our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents is truly incredible.

G is for Gym

One of the weirdest things happened during the break was right after heading out for some innocent sushi. I suddenly had a burst of energy on one of the mornings and decided to go to the gym. But not before a stop at an all you can eat sushi restaurant. In hindsight, this was my biggest regret of the entire week. As I went to change and tie my shoes, I could feel the raw fish battling with my stomach and creating an epic battle of seismic proportions.  The high intensity running and jumping is a great form of exercise for a full and digested stomach, but mine still had lots of raw fish and vinegared rice inside of it that it would be considered a bio-hazard. Then the worst thing happened, this would test the true strength of my stomach: a pick-up basketball game! Intensive running, jumping, and shooting is a recipe for a disastrous afternoon. Coincidentally, my adrenaline started to kick in and I could no longer feel the sushi, instead it was pure energy. I would sprint not run. I would bounce not hop. I would score not shoot. Everything was going great until the game ended and I could no longer feel the Adrenalin. I could no longer breathe, my lungs grew thirsty for the precious oxygen that it desired. I was drowning even though I was 10 km away from any large water source. Thankfully my breath came back and I ended up home with a stomach ache within the hour.

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Dribble!

| sfarzamfar

The final seconds of the clock start ticking. I catch the basketball with my sweat-filled palms and create a large stance by spreading my legs. I jump to shoot and from behind another player bursts through and slaps my arm so hard that it was heard from outside the earth’s ozone. I get fouled. At first I’m ecstatic realizing I have the chance to win the game for my team but after further consideration, my joy turns to dread as I realize that I can’t shoot a free throw to save my life. The ref whistles for me to head over to the line and to get ready to shoot. I start to panic and think about the other 3 free throws I’ve missed during the game. Sweat beads down my forehead like Niagara Falls and my legs shake like tree trunks during a tornado.

 

I start my pre-shot ritual; 2 dribbles and a deep breath. I stare at the rim and shoot… and I missed. Now I panic for real. I‘ve never had butterflies in my stomach for sports before this and now, NOW I had to get it. My blood starts pumping like a bullet train that’s late for its stop. I can feel my hungry stomach rumble.

“I wish I ate that Cliff Bar my mom gave me.” I mutter under my breath. The ref Whistle again and I get back on the line, “at least now I can tie the game,” I say nervously to my teammate beside me. He chuckles sarcastically. That creeps fear back into my mind, causing me to rally my thoughts into a nice neat folder and helps me get my shit together. I start my pre-shot ritual again; 2 dribbles and a deep breath. I shoot and just pray. I watch the ball go through the rim like a motorbike going through a ring of deep, blazing fire. I yell out and the game goes to overtime. From then on I put as much pressure on myself to get the best result because Diamonds can only be made with a bit of pressure.

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The Flat World Around Us

| sfarzamfar

I think that we all put to much trust into scientists these days. They are all just a bunch of guys with a piece of paper that has 3 letters on it and their name (PhD). Today I want to talk about a very dividing mainstream issue; the ”round” earth. See there is a great video that proves that the earth is flat featuring a lemon and a plate. You see, if water could pool up like in the flooded lands of Costa Rica, then how can we call earth a imperfect ball. We can’t keep getting lied to, we must look deeper and think with our thinking caps on.

 

Flatter Than a Platter

Flat Earth:

is where we birth,

our many children who laugh and play.

But, “the Earth is round I say.”

That’s the teachers favorite line.

Because the students don’t know that the teacher is lying.

How can Houston and Costa Rica flood?

When we live on a ball of mud.

Our belief spans from athletes to celebrities,

but the only thing we are missing is visionaries.

Athletes like Kyrie Irving,

who believes the earth is not curving.

Rappers like B.O.B

who believes that a round earth is bull-S-H-I-T.

With this many followers how can we all not agree.

that if you believe in this nonsense, you’ll die alone at age 83.

These accusations are delirious.

The writers of these fake studies are always mysterious.

You hear about it on magazines and talk shows.

But you never hear about it from a source everyone knows.

But we can never tell, because we are stuck on this flat circle or sphere.

Almost all 7 billion of us are stuck here.

 

We need to widen our view and see from space,

to put to rest this dividing, dunderhead case.

Of course is not a flat circular chip.

We have magical spacial phenomenon like an eclipse.

We have many time zones,

and we have a mighty ozone.

We also have great photos of our planet.

It is round and large like a pomegranate.

Most of us have enough brain cells,

to realize the garbage the flat earth theorists sell,

is exactly that.

A pile of wrong, improperly-sourced crap.