The films ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’ and ‘Memento’, by Charlie Kaufman and Christopher Nolan respectively, deal with memory or more specifically, the loss of memory. The films hypothesize that when our memories have been taken away from us such as in ‘Eternal Sunshine’, or we are unable to make new memories as in ‘Memento’, there is a part of us that has been destroyed, along with our ability to define the line between fantasy and reality. The definition of memory itself in the cognitive neurosciences memory is stated “…to be the psychological function most closely linked with one’s human uniqueness…they capture events in the world as personal experiences.”[1] The statement can be read as memory being the one thing that defines us and in-turn defining our reality. As a re-constructive mechanism memory allows the past to become a part of the present, and the experiences that we have had are ingrained into our future, thus defining our perception of this world and the things around us. When we have lost our past, or unable to make a new past and stuck in an ever-perpetual present, our future is denied and we are no longer able to associate to what is truthful, and what is not. Thus, when our memories are taken away from us the world as we know it ceases to exist and we are left with either a twisted and degraded version of it or nothingness, as depicted in ‘Eternal Sunshine’ and ‘Memento’.

‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’ tells of the romance between two lovers, Joel and Clementine, and their subsequent fall-out, and its effect upon Joel. Steven Johnson writes them as “…two star-crossed lovers whose stars have gotten so crossed that they decide to erase their memories of each other, using the services of a company called Lacuna Inc.”[2] The centre of the film (the memory deletion) revolves around Joel’s memories of his life with Clementine slowly being erased, and his in-ability to exist outside of some sort of mental emptiness after the procedure. The very first scenes of the film are near the “ending” of the timeline, after Joel has already removed the memory of Clementine and the better part of the last two years. It includes a narrative voice-over that seems as empty as the tone that he narrates in, carrying hints of his erased memories. “I ditched work today. Took a train out to Montauk,” he says in a flat, emotionless voice, “I don’t know why.” As Jason Sperb observes, Joel is unable to understand the “why” to everything, whether it be the emptiness that he feels, or things that he does.[3] Joel’s in-ability to understand is a result of his memory being deleted. Clementine, once the dominant element of his life for the last two years, is gone. Nothing remains of her (or so it seems), and he has little to no depth or substance to go on. His past is no longer recallable by his present, and thus his existence as a person is denied, which means that he can no longer define reality.

The majority of the film itself is actually grounded in what we can define as fantasy, as Joel struggles to salvage his memories of Clementine as his reaction towards the deletion procedure slowly changes over time. He eventually realizes that he does not want his memories deleted, or rather both his love for her and his notion of self. He realizes that there is a need for a past that although, un-claimable and un-shape-able, is also something that cannot and should not be taken from his existence, as Sperb states.[4] He tries to find Clementine, and when he does, tries to run away and hide her so that she can’t be taken away. This game of cat-and-mouse is futile, as he eventually realizes that she will fade to the procedure. Joel’s eventual acceptance of the loss of Clementine and the subsequent fading of the memory leads directly to the opening scene. Reality is no longer real, as even although those memories can be seen as fantasy, they no longer exist and cannot define what is truthful anymore. Joel’s perception is no longer objective – he cannot forcibly attain a truthful reading of his life and of his reality – instead his perception now is subjective to the things around him, whether they may seem real or not.

Yet according to Fredrika Shulman, memories are affected by the objects that they are associated with, as lieux de mémoire (memorial sites); through the preserving of these items can then memory be recollected regardless of temporal discourses.[5] The definition of reality is based upon these objects that remind ourselves of what we can remember, just as Dr. Howard Merzwiak gives Joel explicit instructions to remove everything he has that is associated with Clementine. They act as “memory markers”, as Merzwiak states – items of value that act as “…an emotional core to each of our memories.” As a result, when through a twist of fate both Joel and Clementine are informed that they use to be lovers and receive back all the items that they had taken to be disposed of by Lacuna Inc, they are almost instantly reminded of the connotations contained in the items themselves. Although they are unable to associate memories of words and images toward these items, they are nonetheless able to recognize emotions and the items as artifacts that transmit the past, even though it is a past they no longer know. So in a way, while our sense of reality may be lost through the removal of our past, so too is it regained through either making new memories or regaining items associated with the past that is erased. As Sperb argues “…the future – as in end of ‘Eternal Sunshine’ – becomes the past anyway.” He sees that it is not a “definitive linear history” that guides our understanding, but much rather that the “…temporal boundaries will simply reconstruct themselves in the absence of the possibility of a preserved past.”[6]

On the other hand, “Memento” deals with the ever-perpetual present. The protagonist, Leonard Shelby, suffers a peculiar form of anterograde amnesia in which he is unable to form new memories after a blow to the head. Two men had broken into his home and raped and murdered his wife; Leonard shot one intruder but the other attacked him from behind. His last permanent memory was of his wife dying on the bathroom floor. The entire film revolves around Leonard’s inability to form new memories – he is spatially and temporally dislocated and unable to relocate himself, stuck in a forever “now” moment, as though time goes on without him. His notion of “reality” is thus forever stuck at the moment of his wife’s death; although he is able to function semi-normally he lives in little pockets of reality – a few hours here, a few there. Yet, as the film goes on it is revealed to us that in actually fact his reality are all just self-contained fantasy narratives, manipulated by others around him due to his inability to form a coherent linear structure of the world.

Leonard is in a constant state of confusion and altered reality; he is unable to associate with anything around him, as shown in the first scenes of Leonard with him waking up in a non-descript black and white motel room. Leonard then tracks through the motions of the voiceover chronologically. Leonard: “So where are you? You’re in some motel room. You just, you just wake up and you’re in […] in a motel room. There’s the key. It feels like, maybe, it’s just the first time you’ve been there, but perhaps, you’ve been there for a week, three months. It’s kinda hard to say. I don’t know. It’s just an anonymous room.” Leonard’s inability to graft new memories into his mind forces him to graft it on to his body – an “…overlaid topography of tattoos, mnemonic traces carved and inked in Leonard’s flesh…”[7], as well as having numerous Polaroid’s dotted around of people and things as he progresses in his quest of vengeance. Furthermore, because of his inability to recall recent experiences it means that he misses the impact of traumatic events upon reality. As such, William G. Little critiques him as “…a character wracked by disappointment.”[8] All these elements mean that Leonard is unable to identify the world in a post-traumatic view; because of his inability to remember he is constantly forced to go through the pain of his wife’s passing, each time as if it had just happened although he might be months down the time-stream. His identity is limited to what he was pre-accident and his notion of truth and reality is focused on the very present. This presents a problem, as two characters that revolve around him, Ted and Natalie, are shown to manipulate him into doing certain things and him being absolutely unaware. His definition of reality is no longer his, but rather what other people tell him and the scatterings of notes that he gives himself.

This holds true even to the audience, as we are being constantly put under pressure to remember what happens before, as the film is edited in a regressive format. We are constantly sent through “before” sequences that “…swipes the board of the game and demands yet another futile strategy of sense and memory.”[9] In essence, we as the audiences are subjected to being Leonard; we are only ever allowed the knowledge of “now” – broken narratives that contradict the one before, which contradicted the one before that. We, just as Leonard is, are subjected to a constant revising of the present, of reality and what we perceive to be the real truth. Yet at the very end of the film, which is supposedly the earliest point in the time-stream, is of Leonard and Ted having an argument. Ted tells Leonard that he had already looked, found and killed the “John G.” that injured him and killed his wife. Ted shows Leonard a Polaroid of him after the murder, and then accuses him of “…having become a killer, of having begun to like to kill people, and even of needing to kill in order to give his life meaning.”[10] It seems that what both Leonard and the audiences have perceived as truth is not real, and in-turn our defined reality is shattered. The lack of memory of the “before” means that everything that we have held to be truthful so far is turned into fantasy, a narrative that should not have existed in the first place. As Clarke states, “…with the continual juxtaposition of contrary images, the aporias of truth and falsity in the present become more and more urgently revealed.”[11]

Because we are forced to adapt to Leonard’s view, we are then drawn in to his world where truthful definitions are made, in reality, non truthful. Indeed, if everything that we have held to be “true” and “real” has been presented as false, than what about Leonard himself? Is his story of his wife and his amnesia truthful and a truthful definition of reality, or is it all a part of a made-up fantasy by Leonard himself? As we have not experienced the before and the after, merely the ever-perpetual present, we have no memories of these events. Thus, we are unable to form coherent judgement upon this matter, and we can gain no clear definition of reality and a truthful modal propriety.

Reality, as observed by viewing both Joel and Leonard, is really a sense of self and character being reflected on to the world as we dictate. It is a concept, which albeit vague, is something that centres itself on one’s notion of the world as one perceives it, through the experiences they have had that influenced and shaped them in the past.  It is a notion of relativity and deduction: when something is not one thing, than what we are left with is its absolute definition. As such, our experiences, or memories to be more exact, shape our perception, our notion of self and the relation to the world around us. When our experiences and memories, of which that define “us” of whom and what we are, are deleted, lost or disabled than our “reality” is altered and is thus no longer true. While Joel and Leonard suffer from different forms of memory deprivation, both remain the same in that they no longer exist in a reality defined by “truthful” values. What they are left with are empty realities that are not grounded and unacceptable, as they can no longer decide what reality is and what fantasy is. Both characters no longer have a reference point for their realities. Joel cannot remember his past, and so his present is also blank, just as his future will be, while Leonard cannot form new memories, and so is stuck in a time-less state in which his definition of “reality” is constantly effected by those around him, and the “Leonard” of a very distant past. For both men, reality is now either nothing, or perverted. Yet luckily for Joel, he might still have a chance to make a new reality.

Bibliography

Bianco, Jamie Skye. “Techno-Cinema”. Comparative Literature Studies 41.3 (2004), 377-403.

Clarke, Melissa. “The Space-Time Image: The Case of Bergson, Deleuze, and Memento”. The Journal of Speculative Philosophy 16.3 (2002) 167-181

Conway, Martin A., Campbell, Ruth and Gathercole, Susan E. “Introduction: Case Studies in the Neuropsychology of Memory.” Broken Memories: Case Studies in Memory Impairment. Ed. Campbell, Ruth and Conway, Martin A. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers Ltd, 1995. XVII.

Gondry, Michael (dir.) and Kaufman, Charlie. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. New York: Focus Features, 2004.

Little, William G. “Surviving Memento.” Narrative 13.1 (2005) 67-83

Nolan, Christopher, director and screenwriter. Memento. New York: Newmarket Films, 2000.

Schulman, Fredrika. “The Objects of Memory: Collecting Eternal Sunshine.” Philaments 5 (2004). 3^rd April, 2007 <http://www.arts.usyd.edu.au/publications/philament/issue5_Critique_Shulman.htm>

Sperb, Jason. “Internal Sunshine: Illuminating Being-Memory in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”. Kritikos vol. 2 (2005). 3^rd April, 2007 <http://garnet.acns.fsu.edu/~nr03/Internal%20Sunshine.htm>

Steven, Johnson. “The Science of Eternal Sunshine”. Slate Magazine, 22/03/04. 3^rd April, 2007 <http://slate.msn.com/id/2097502>

Celebrated and famous psychologist Sigmund Freud once said that the greatest motivator of humankind and human behavior is fear. And it never ceases to amaze me how society embraces upon this concept, albeit somewhat unconsciously.

Everday, we pass judgement on someone, even if we do not even know whom he or she is actually like. You know the feeling; you may not even have to be actually seeing the person, but only hearing a story from a friend or a rumour that is spreading widely, or maybe even what they might have written.

Now, of course, many people will say here that they aren't prejudiced at all; a load of crap, if you ask me. We are naturally born to judge what we like and what we do not. It is something that we gain through the experiences in our lives and/or influences from exposure to outside forces. We cannot help it, since it is ingrained in us somewhat instinctively to discriminate. One such case is the classic fire exampe - when you were a small child, and your guardian told you not to touch the fire, whether it is the flame on the stove or anything else, what was the first thing you did? You touched it. And you got burnt. What happened? You learned not to touch the fire again. Why? You'd get hurt. But you don't want to get hurt, so? Don't touch the fire.

These experiences - ones that are essentially traced back to the concept of fear - shape us. No doubt we all have had similar experiences other than the example I used to make this point. I myself happen to be prejudiced against celery. Greatly against celery. That, is the result of force-feeding from "the parents" when I was a child and could not think for myself. Thus, I developed what you might call a "mental-allergy" towards celery. In the end, what did I learn? Celery equals torture, for it was what I had deemed the consumption of it to be. That interesting little experince I had not only influenced, but also fueled my dislike.

But I think we can all agree that those prejudices are otherwise harmless, even essential to the basic fabrics of an individaul. If not, then we would probably be wondering why putting our hands in the fire burns all the time and continue with said activity.

However, it is when prejudice is used to purposely hurt or damage is it harmful. It has been done over the centuries and millennia of human consciousness. Let's imagine a small child falls down in the typical mind-numbingly normal park and begins to cry, but their mother isn't paying attention. A teenager goes to help the child up, possibly stopping its crying, having only good intentions in mind. But this teenager has a bad reputation in the neighbourhood, isn't very well-known outside of rumour, whose clothing isn't exactly within acceptable standards and is seen as more than a little odd. What happens? The child's mother immediately comes into the situation and starts on the teenager, as if they were the cause. Thus, the teenager is left being falsely blamed for something he didn't do. All because he was immediately judged by ignorant others from second hand rumours and apperances.

It isn't just on a local level either, but it is particularly glaring in the larger perspective of the world, especially in recent times. Prejudice was one of the major elements of the rise of Adolf Hitler of Nazi Germany and his discriminating views killed millions of innocent lives - those that he detested and thought unworthy, and those who were trying to fight back for freedom. Segregation was also a large problem within American culture until it was outlawed in the mid-sixties; those of African descent separated from the whites in all facets of public society. Apartheid in South Africa supported the whites of that country, 20% of that nation's people. British history deals with India, where the untouchables were the lowes of the low and barely even allowed into town. Even in our so-called beautiful country of Aotearoa, Pakeha look upon Maori with disdain, let along all the other ethnic groups. Better yet, throughtout history women had been looked down upon as subordinate to men.

It took inspirational leaders such as Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela, Mahatmas Ghandhi, and the lives of numerous others to alert us to the way we were inhumanly treating those around us. But just because we were alerted, it certainly hasn't meant that anything has changed, let along done about it. We see it all the time, whether we tolerate it, disapprove of it, are part of it, or are victims of it.

But what motivates this behavior though? Is it some fear of inferiorority and inadequacy? Why do we do this? Certainly, I doubt people living in a civilized society actually want to inflict pain purposely towards others. Is it a fear for our own safety that motivates us to discriminate against others - for us to feel safe by holding power over others, using whichever way possible?

I wouldn't know. As you can probably judge, I am not a psychologist and certainly not Freud.

The reason that I've been so concerned over this issue is not merely the fact that though I have lived in New Zealand for the better of my life, having been educated by this society, I still encounter prejudices towards me through racism and certain social attitudes, but more so with current events across this world. Everyone is at war it seems with one another, no matter if the opposition deserves it or not.

Although it is officially September 12th in New Zealand, America is almost a day behind, making today the fifth anniversary for the attack on 9/11. Shitting you not, I cried. To be more accurate, I wept. The world saw the worst side of humankind this day, yet also the best. The question is, why did it happen, and to what point in time shall the pain be ever smoothed away?

For Osama Bin Laden, America is the pinnacle of evil - it evokes a feeling among many countries within the eastern circuit of this world as a warmongering capitalist force, symbolic of satan. Middle East hates America, China hate America, I know for a fact that the Japanese only bow because US rebuilt its country, and I'm sure many Vietnamese still hold a grudge. I have read of articles published online by university students within Chinese borders, that said they were filled with glee when they heard of the 9/11 event. All due to prejudices set decades back, sins committed on both sides by dead fathers who we shall never know.

I'm most certainly not a worshipper of American society, yet nor am I a sadistical bastard that has nothing better to do with my time. Today I remember the lives lost at ground zero, and for those men and women that did not have a second chance. Yet, to say that it was all the evil men's fault, is merely a statement of complete bigotry. We must strive for a better future within this world - not bound by skin color nor line upon a map, but by the fact that we are a citizen of Earth, all living on the same planet. As a Christian, I am filled with rage towards the Muslim's twisted and perverted view upon the notion of my God, yet as a human being, I can't help but see what really provoked these fanatics. It is fault on both sides, and it is not for me to say which is the greater evil. True, 9/11 was death upon innocents, but hasn't the war in Iraq paid all of the debut and more?

I hope you walk away with something from this. Also, I apolgize for all insults I may have committed against you, whether it be towards those who revere celery and all celery things as well as the celery industry, or those patriotic Americans that would call death upon my name. All I ask, is for us to think, where did we go wrong, and how can we make things better. Remember, two wrongs shall never make a right.

Now, I implore you to make your judgment upon this intrepid, aspiring, celery-hating writer.

Do your worst.

English: Its Proper Form

Zonorhc

“omg liek i dont nede 2 typ proprly cus dis is da internet !!!! go away nerd looser !!!”

What you have just read is an example of a disturbingly prevalent attitude on the internet, particularly among the younger community: the quality of language that one would expect to find with reasonable frequency on instant messaging services, message boards and online games. Oh, there are all sorts of arguments for that method of typing; ranging from the almighty “This isn't an English classroom” to the highly versatile “I'm too lazy to type properly”. Those aren't accurate representations of the arguments themselves, of course, due to the fact that they were actually spelt properly. Shame.

How does your typing style on the internet affect you? It seems like the sort of question with an obvious answer that would never require a three-page rant by the author on what exactly the answer is. Unfortunately for you wonderful readers, it isn't. It's only going to be one page, because there's a suggested word limit that I am using up rather effectively with these sentences. Ooh, look at this one! It's doing it too! Ahem.

The way you type affects you in several ways: how well you communicate your ideas, how people reading your messages view you, and how well you type in the future.

The first of these is arguably one of the easier points to explain. Cohesion is something that one only achieves in - get this - cohesive statements. One cannot expect to communicate complex ideas efficiently when readers have to translate several tons of linguistic garbage in order to understand the text. This may seem strange to many people who are accustomed to using internet shorthand, but the general idea behind the written form of any language is that it is meant to be easily understood by anyone who understands the spoken form of the language.

While shorthand may be easily understood by those who have already been tainted by its foul talons, it may require some translation for those who are not “hip” or “with the times”. This isn't really a problem, per se, in an online game such as Runescape where the majority of the community is “in the zone”, but it is an inconvenience - and a large one at that - for people who do not wish to translate crude phonetic representations of words.

Secondly, the way you type affects how people view you as an individual. It might not be obvious, because you may be surrounded by people who type the same way you do, but to an outside observer, many of you are like slavering chimpanzees at a keyboard playing an online adventure game. Shorthand might still register as communication in the minds of more sophisticated people, but those who type it would probably register as human only by default. Some people may not mind seeing their language slaughtered, but most people with at least a decent educational background may find your digital presence distasteful.

You may be seen as crude, ignorant, lazy, uneducated or even rude; all bad things for public relations. I'll go out on a limb here and assume that you probably aren‘t. It shouldn't be a question, however, because in most cases, in order to not appear as such, all you have to do is TAKE THE TIME TO PRESS TWO EXTRA KEYS. Come on, you can do it. You were given eight fingers and two thumbs so you could use them all on a keyboard, not so you can be a slob and just use three to “save time”. Hey, you probably only save a fraction of a second for every twenty points you deduct from your perceived IQ. The occasional typo may be ignored in instant messaging or any other real-time chat interface, or even in forums. Blatantly misspelt words and poorly-constructed sentences, however, have almost no reason to be on a message board.

The flipside of this, of course, is the way your clique views you. Strangely enough, some groups I have encountered during my time on the internet find it in poor taste to type properly, because it does not fit in with their subculture of “non-conformists” and “cool people”. Well, alright. If it's “cool” for them to appear lazy and uneducated, more power to them.

There is also the point that naturally, some people have the notion that they should type as quickly as possible and thus cut as many corners as they can. A bit of advice for these sorts of people - nobody cares how fast you type. What many people care about is how you type. Real-time chat, message board, whatever -- misspelling with the intent to save a few precious milliseconds is looked down upon by people with any respect for their language. Of course, there may be the excuse that one is not a native English speaker, is still in his or her teens, or is a busy sort of person. Oh, hey. I'm all three of those. Fancy that.

On to the next point: your typing style is a habit. Unless you take steps to fix it, you're going to be typing like that for a while. I can tell you now that that is a bad thing. I've known and seen people with IQs reaching into the low 130s handing in major assignments with horrible grammar and several counts of the crime that is shorthand. These are people whom I know to be intelligent human beings, but had I been an outside observer with no personal knowledge of those individuals, I would have chalked them up as Class B semi-morons. Why do they type poorly? Simple. Because it's a habit that they haven't bothered to rid themselves of.

Ah, yes. I can almost hear the argument screeching out of the collective subconscious like a banshee chained to a jet engine. “The internet is not an English classroom”. Sadly enough, it is, in its own indirect way. The quality of language you are exposed to most often is the quality of language that you adopt. This is the reason why I have an Australian accent, and why Irish people have Irish accents. It is the language we are exposed to, and thus we adopt it.

For written expression, nothing influences people as much as what they read and write themselves. Sadly, for many of the young people who play Runescape, the only language they are exposed to is the internet‘s, judging by the demographic data on what young people these days are exposed to for entertainment - predominantly passive activities such as watching the television, playing games or listening to, ah… music.

These things - TV, games, music, etc. - in themselves cannot be blamed for a degradation in the quality of language in the community as a whole. It is the combination of these media and the lack of exposure to high-quality literary works that fuels the car on its way to the brick wall. Expose yourself to a good book and hit the brakes today

First, you will know sorrow. And not just any sorrow, but the longing sorrow that comes with unfulfillment. Your soul will recall things that not even you can name, and it will want them back again. Sometimes, the old ways becomes an addiction, with all the problems an addiction brings: estrangment, loneliness, craving, even ruthlessness and double dealing. Oh yes, double dealing can be one of the first symptoms.

Other times, the past brings fear. Fear can be one of the worst things, in my opinion, but only by seeing so many truly talented people stiffle themselves and hide from fear. Could they have been something great? Did they have a destiny to claim? Oh, most assuredly. We all have our destinies. The world can never know just how wonderful the fearful's destiny was because he chose not to claim it.. . . and he stagnates.

Most times, though, you will forget to look for joy. There are happy memories as well as sad . . . yet most people, myself included, seem to hover over the dark and still thoughts. The emotions connected with these are much stronger, this is true, but joy also has the power to bring forth tears. To keep perspective, one has to remember to search for such memories with the bad.

Second, you will know confusion. The human brain, for all its wonderful complexities, is also short circuited. One watches Star Wars and they want so much to be like Luke, they fabricate memories for themselves. The human brain has this power; it is a protection device. And there are a lot of things in this crazy world to be protected from, even yourself.

It begins with the longing, the wishing . . . and deep soul searching until "memories" spring forth. (I was There, George Lucas *must* be otherkin, how else could he get the ways of The Force so accurately??? I had a teacher just *like* Kenobe. . . ) It is true there are a lot of creators who may Remember. But, most times they'll take one memory, one fragment of a spark, and build their entire tale around it. In the telling, details change to become bigger and brighter and bolder. This phenomenon can be illustrated in the old gossip game where everyone sits in a circle and a statement is whispered in someone's ear. The whisper recipient then whispers it to another, then the statement is whispered to another, until the final player recites outloud what he was told. Rarely is the statement accurately passed around. This is what happens during the creative process.

Confusion can be just as dangerous as addiction. One should take their memories slowly, very very slowly, and watch their step. One step too far and you might topple into the abyss, into insanity, and only mighty strength can pull you back out again. Then you will know the pain of sorrow again, for you must damn what you Remembered and start from scratch. You must be careful what you read and watch and think, for any of those might be false.

Third, and finally, you will know Change. They say change is a good thing. Most times, your heart would argue with that. When lovers part forever, that is change and it brings pain and sadness, even if that relationship was bad and breaking up is the good way. It is so with anything else. Your baby turns one, you're happy and sad. After all, although your child is healthy and growing up strong as he should, he is no longer your tiny infant to suckle at your breast. There has been a gradual change, and it brought both emotions.

Remembering brings about changes in personality, perspective and environment. Once you were timid. Then, you Remembered squelching mighty armadas under your technological thumb. Something inside you clicks, you change, you revert. The next person who harrasses you suddenly experiences surprise: You punch his nose.

Perspective is affected in the same moment. You once saw yourself as bottom wolf, as the titmouse to hide from the owls. Now you know you were once an owl, the pack leader, and you are driven to command that power again. You see the world as your oyster, and you want pearls.

Environment tumbles in after. Pearls are riches. What is around you, your environment, is no longer adequate. You begin to change things to suit yourself. Sometimes it comes in small ways; the planting of a special tree or moving closer to the forest. Other times, it comes in tragic ways: Youe your spouse, you home teach your children, you run for President.

And all the world is affected. It can be in an obvious or hidden manner. Obvious by the book you write, or the people you contact through the e-list you've begun, or those who follow you faithfully into Waco. Hidden by the influential person you support, the canvas you colored and gave to the rich Plantation owner. The insane babble spouted across the board, ignored by most.

The world cannot help this. We are all in a helpless circle.

In conclusion, beware the perils of Remembering. It is a blackberry brambled path. You're going to be knicked and are bound to bleed. You run the chance of being scarred, or your skin becoming too tough to absorb the next lesson. Learn not to skirt these dangers, but look through them and find the berries they protect. Sometimes they can be sour, most times they can be sweet. All will be earned in the right way and will be worth it.

 

It began with a crisp night. For some reason I am not tired, but beside me she is asleep, peacefully. As usual a long day had worn her down. Ever my stubborn over-achiever, she always has a thousand different things to do, thoughts to chase. Yet, she would not have it any other way and it endears me. Lying beside me, she has one arm thrown over my chest, one leg thrown across mine. My arms wrap around her with her face resting on my shoulder.

 

The slight pattering of the rain outside drifts in through the open window, along with the gentle rustling of leaves, a serene and hypnotic cadence. The room holds a faint aroma of the incense that she had lit, along with the taste of the rain outside. A slight breeze wavers in, chilling my face; it also made her give a slight shiver. Burying herself slightly deeper into my side, her slight movements once again overtakes all my senses and I indulge into it – one of “home”. It is not one that can be explained nor recreated. She stirs just a little as I kiss her forehead, and I am afraid I might have awoken her.

 

Letting out a slight groan, one of half-asleep, her hand slides up to my cheeks. Another soft sigh and she gently brushes her face against mine, then pulls away just enough so I can turn my head to face her. She slightly opens her eyes and smiles, asking me what I am doing still awake.

 

“Just watching a beautiful girl sleep”. Small nudge in the ribs with an elbow.

 

“Hey, be nice!” A sleepy little laugh.

 

“Crazy boy,” she says as she runs her fingers through my hair. Pulling me towards her, she brushes her lips against mine, and hugs me tightly. Again, the sense of home. With practiced ease, she grabs my arm pull it against her waist. I lift her hips to mine, leaving no space between us. Once again her body give way to slumber as she wraps her hands around mine…and I wake.