LISTEN TO THIS WHILE READING

My first experience with the hallucinogenic properties of baked marijuana came to me in the form of a beautiful surprise that succeeded in making my otherwise shitty day, incredible.

It all happened about two months ago but I have yet to forget such a miraculous day. It was miraculous in that I discovered Mary Jane in her purest, not to mention most delicious form. It was as if I had found true love. You see, her naked body was exhilarating enough and I should have stopped our intimate little endeavor right there but being the asshole I am how could I ever say no to a woman like that. She was so fresh that I could not fathom falsifying any attempt at disregarding a taste of her bittersweet brownies.

Simply, edibles can only be compared to sex; not only are they on the same tier of pleasure but I would go so far as to say that the same unwritten rules apply. The rule of thumb in both these scenarios is to always go down on her first, why? Well nine out of ten times she will return the favor and believe me that’s not a bad ratio considering she will bring you a hell of a lot more pleasure then you could her.

Looking back, it seems I was locked in the anticipation of having Mary Jane bang my brains out, despite the fact that she had been going down on my buddies for a few hours prior to my arrival and perhaps that says a little something about life… could it be that sloppy seconds is more inevitable than anything we have come to know?

Prior to my adventure I had been busy at work at the office aka the liquor store and if it hadn’t been for my good buddy and co-worker Cane I would have lost it on these stressful and scary customers who were of native descent. Cane and I were both longing to meet up with out good friends who were getting banged by MJ and these people were frankly just too much… Surly enough we persevered and work had ended without a robbery or assault for that matter and we sped to my place to drop off my car. Here, we ran our hearts out as it was a three kilometers to Lady Greek’s house as she was hosting the excursion (if you want to get to know Lady Greek better check out the post A Damn Good Saturday). Upon our entry we were ushered to the kitchen as everyone was seemingly tripping balls on the floor above. To our surprise a whole tray of brownies had been salvaged and saved just for us…

A whole tray between the two of us seemed to be quite a generous portion and I began to question the motives behind this generosity. But, Lady Greek was quick to reassure us that the single tray between the seven of them did not bring on any high what so ever and in order to make the best of the batch we had to split a tray. The fact is she is one of the nicest most trustable people I have ever met, I had no clue she was f*&king with us.

Simultaneously, my hunger had kicked in and in spite of my reluctant emotions to eat so many brownies, Cane and I woofed them down in a matter of minutes. We were betrayed, but not heart broken, in fact it was more of an awesome gift. Within the first ten minutes I was feeling pretty good really happy too! By half an hour I was watching One Tree Hill…. WTF. At the fifty minute mark everything was feeling all weird and I had begun the journey home with my friend J and by the time I got home the world had been reduced to delirious spinning and I felt as if I had been blinded by its intensity. I passed out, luckily enough I awoke in my bed. To my surprise I was dazed and confused and still tripping. My mother made note of how off I seemed but continued to rush me out the door to go study for an exam. My day at the university was composed of three lunches and two dinners with naps in between, I guess you could say the munchies had got the better of me. I had come to the realization that MJ had banged my brains out and now that was a good enough conclusion for me.

Now, without a doubt I will vouch for marijuana, as there is a lot to love about something that brings so much joy and tenderness to the world. Lets put the medical bonuses aside, and break this illegal substance down to its most fundamental components. We have a plant that puts aside race and gender and instead seeks to pleasure both man and woman a like black or white. You see, Mary Jane is as bisexual as Nelly Furtado and Angelina Jolie and could never discriminate on race. How could the administrative powers of North America even come close to justifying the illegality of a substance that fundamentally promotes everything that has been fought for over the last hundred years. Black rights? Universal Suffrage? From birth our culture preaches the importance of these values and prides itself in taking two steps forward in regards to an unprejudiced society. All I see is 2 steps forward and one giant leap back. Marijuana is not only a good time, but it is a symbol of freedom and justice itself. Sadly, a justice that is fading and could be lost if we don’t fight for what is right.

Saturday

Read while Listening.

Last night was my brain-damaged friend’s, 18^th birthday. The brain damage is debatable but the man has been through five something concussions so if he does some dumb things every now and again it’s to be expected. I love you J.

Now, Saturday June 9^th was far from one of those dumb nights we expect from J. To be honest, it was pretty f*&king extraordinary, extra-ordinary because I have never seen a group of people go so hard or do so many stupid things just to be polite in an attempt to keep up with the man of the house.

I showed up at eight O clock with my buddy Lockie, as we entered the house proceeding into the kitchen we were greeted by the boys: H cock-smoker Sagli, Q cant-get-with-Melinda Johnson and B made-Ashley-fat Anderson. Here, we formed the team of close-knit bro’s who promised to keep things in-line while J is getting stupidly wasted. Unfortunately, our resolution died as did our sobriety and we began drinking our faces off.

And so… we put it all out on the tables and were faced with an overwhelming table of alcohol. I took the initiative to start us off and I felt pretty good about beer bonging a tall-tall boy, as did the rest of the team. Little did I know I was about to be emasculated by Jake as he filled up the beer bong with just over an estimated six Oz of vodka? Within ten minutes I was feeling a bit tipsy I can’t even imagine what J was feeling but he was looking pretty good and backward.

I feel a little sorry for the guests who arrived sometime after nine with our lady friends who were repping some disagreeable Mexican shirts. I can’t lie they looked a little out of place… and they were sober which wasn’t so chill. But soon enough J cracked his enormous three-liter bottle of white-rum and these timid ladies got a little promiscuous, as did the party. This fine Latino was walking around in a bathing suit and for a moment I thought that maybe I was at a Mexican party and for a moment my lady friends didn’t seem so out of place but I concluded that this might have just been a stammer in thought caused by my delicious bong-rip.

Finally, the world through my eyes was a satisfying blur of confusion that some-how made sense to me, all the while bringing a smile to my face.  I left the house and met up with my friend Carly and I think she pushed me out of her car at some-point, because I sustained a cut on my hand after falling on to the pavement, maybe I jumped hahaha. I ran into father just after I stood up and I made fun of him for showing up on J’s mother behalf.

All this felt so random to me, Carly, my Dad, hot Latino-chick? I had a good laugh at it all and went back to the party! I must have only been gone half an hour but when I returned my good friend and co-worked Kane had arrived and may or may not have pursued a three-some with this slutty girl named Jennifer! Okay that might have been a little harsh I meant my *friend* Jennifer. That was pretty cool of K. This shit-head Cam was next level drunk and passing out yet still managing to make a few of his hilarious jokes. J was now laying on the toilet puking slowly yet surly making some gnarly growling noises, simultaneously he was getting some action from Danielle this gorgeous Greek woman well he could have been at least! There is a certain amount of respect we must give to any man who gets that opportunity after all, every male in our friend group is out to dip there pecker in a little souvlaki; after all Danielle is our utility woman, whatever that means.

I think H tried to fight me, but that was a given. Hahaha but maybe not he might have been trying to get in his woman’s pants, wait that’s not right, he was trying to get into his woman’s heart because I think the horny bastard might actually have feelings for a Canadian girl, I didn’t think you could tame H I thought he was more manly then that maybe there is a Bitch in the most manly of men…

In a drunken stupor I witnessed my friends hot-tubing with a Latino chick, pursuing three-somes, dancing like dumbasses, feelings I never new could exist and my best friend Jake passed the fuck out over a toilet seat with Lady Greek. Now that was a good enough conclusion for me.

Congratulations to J for making it past 12

I would like to give a shout out to my buddy Lockie for providing some traffic via his presence on sound cloud. Check out his latest tunes at http://soundcloud.com/lockiepeds

Us

There, is but one thing that may be written in stone.

It is embedded within the fabric of bone.

Our most powerful dictation of choice…

You see, nothing is entirely true,

Not even that, of which you may construe.

Opinions vary upon point of view.

That is why I have come…

To love you

Hate you,

And forever be with you

My other half.

You are that malicious impulse

The reactionary side of us!

My emotional ties,

To that of which dies…

Dr. Jekyll?

 or Mr. Hyde?

Cheers to our union my malevolent side.

BRAD:  I would like to welcome the official opposition leader of Alberta, Mrs. Smith. (Audience applauses)

Danielle Smith: Thank you Brad it is a pleasure to be here tonight. (Audience applause)

Brad:  Well let’s get to it then. I think we can agree that in the province of Alberta, the ideological perspective of most is dominantly conservative. Currently, we are sitting here with the leader of the furthest right-wing conservative party called the Wild-Rose, after their defeat in the most recent Alberta election. Mrs. Smith what do you have to say about your loss?

Danielle Smith: it was a disappointment for the Wild-Rose in that we did not win the majority, but overall it was a great success for our party.  We quadrupled the number of seats we had in legislation during the previous term!

Brad: It has come to my attention that the consensus in Alberta is that you would be the Premier if the Wild Rose did not support white power advocates and did not hate homosexuals. How could you consider the election a success if Albertans believe such radical accusations?

Danielle Smith: But the Wild-Rose does not hate gay people by any means or support white power movements. No ifs ands or buts. So I deny any statements or opinions that accuse my party of this.

Brad: Well I agree the  Wild Rose probably does not hate gay people or believe in racial superiority, the party is just made up of potential MLA’s who do.

Danielle Smith: all individuals have the right to free speech in our country; on the other hand I believe the intensions of my MLA’s were ultimately miss-read.

Brad: Yup I agree completely, this statement toward the gay community was completely miss-read. If they don’t change they will “suffer the rest of eternity in the lake of fire”. Wait what could this mean, hmmm, gays will forever burn in hell? No, perhaps if gays don’t change their political opinions to that of the Wild Rose, we should throw them into a lake of fire and watch them burn? It is a very controversial statement if you ask me, your right it was probably miss-read, could of meant either of them maybe both.

Danielle Smith: Now, that is just ridiculous. Personal views and opinions should not be looked at in regards to politics; Allan Hansberger’s political views are completely different from his personal opinions!

Brad: But he hates gay people!!

Danielle Smith: politically he does not hate gay people!

Brad: if he hates gay people, he hates gay people! Why support him, why not just cut ties with him and publically apologize as the party leader? It could have turned the whole election.

Danielle Smith: well I was defending free speech; do you not agree with free speech?

Brad: Free-speech – the right to throw homosexuals into eternal lake of fire (appropriate as long as your political opinion varies)! Yes, I agree with free speech but it doesn’t apply to individual hating politicians who are asking me to vote for them because they claim that they are looking out for the people’s best interests! If you hate homosexuals, you must hate people cause they are people, unless the Wild-rose and there leader do not think of homosexuals as people. In any other context this just wouldn’t make sense because hating people is not looking into the peoples best interests.

Danielle Smith: WHAT EVER! (Her face turned maliciously red) WE. DO. NOT. HATE. PEOPLE.

Brad: I believe you, you do not hate people, and the Wild-Rose purely supports people who do!

(Instantaneously, Smith’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and were replaced with vivid red pupils that gleamed sinisterly. In a moment, she began hovering in the air. Here, she hardly looked human at all; her physique was enhanced to the extent that it seemed as if nobody could stand up to her superiority. )

Danielle Smith: You will all feel my wrath, MUAHAHAHAHA

(As she lets out her malevolent laugh, she shuttered and began to shake. Resting her head in her lap she crouched in the air. She was consumed by a painful frenzy and bone like substances began shooting out her back, tearing through what used to be her shoulder blades. After the metamorphosis was complete she had adopted dark black wings that conveyed the evil within her. The interview was concluded with the audience running and screaming in fear while Smith unleashed her hell-like wrath on them while her eyes released laser rays that would explode on impact. Brad slipped away through the back door.)

It is amazing how Life has such a magnificent tendency to equivocally end up feeling like a Disney movie. Could this be a symptom of childhood propaganda? Perhaps.. but who cares! I sure don’t, but Allison Redford probably does. Man she would love to regulate Disney and their influences…. socialists…… grrr……

Now don’t get me wrong I am not here to talk about the greatest assortment of feel good movies ever made or to preach some of grandma Willows (Pocahontas) wisdom. But its those maliciously consuming moments: like when we almost lose our favorite toys from the epic Toy Story trilogy as they are to be consumed by a fury of flames, or the numerous times Aladdin gets chased for stealing that loaf of bread, or even the day you get t-boned at a sketchy intersection and the insurance companies write off your first car as they put the claim 100% against you and begin there infinite pursuit at your wallet….. that establish the fact that the face of adversity is truly a f*king b*tch that can’t even keep its homicidal bad luck issues out of our beloved Disney movies, let alone my life.

I have relized, we need her nonetheless. You see, currently I am poor, broke, and attempting to start working two jobs on top of school all the while with no car :p. My life has snowballed from a Disney movie to a train wreck if I ever saw one. Yesterday I was livid, but today my back stopped shooting vivid pain induced shocks throughout my body, and that concussed daze went away and I legitimately feel like I have grown as a person through this confrontation with lady adversity.

Now, it is easy to forget the famous words, Saturday Always Comes but we must not let ourselves forget their meaning. Some of you have probably been asking yourself what the hell do they even mean, well let’s take it in context. Life isn’t always a Disney movie that would be to easy, instead we will forever have struggles within our lives to bring our conscience out of our own little worlds and back to reality. In essence, no matter how hard things get or how blown up your car is, life will always be filled with those Disney days. You see, Saturday Always Comes.

Today I learned something about writing that is far more valuable then anything you could learn in books. Techniques, literary terms it is all a load of shit. Writing is about the flow and the following, when you stop to think you kill the voice and now your writing is no longer real. To put it simply you just punched ‘us’, the reader in the face.

(DON’T STOP READING JUST YET)

For example Suzanne Collins single handedly butchered her distinguished hunger games series in the third and final book of it. This is because she started pulling things from her ass. You see, we read the books to the end because we all wanted to know Gale or Peeta and obviously Gale was the better man…. But no…. Collins decided that apparently men are inherently dumbasses and do things like bomb the love of our lives baby sister off the face of the earth BY MISTAKE! Am I the only one that’s stuck asking “what the f$%k” was she thinking. I have concluded she must have been dropping some hard drugs or binge drinking for that matter, probably both… If you’re going to give the readers a twist and have the main character end up with the underdog then give us some respect and be creative or at least don’t do it while your smoking crack. Thanks.

Writers, nobody-wants-to-read-the-sweat-that-comes-from-your-ass; well that’s not entirely true, maybe Steven King does.But don’t get me wrong, I have tremendous respect for the man himself, how could you not? He literally sat who knows where as though constipated yet managed to still shit out 47 something novels. All the while, I have been thinking ouch that has got to hurt. Though, we must hold anybody who is willing to endure that kind of pain for money, in high-regard. Now, I am sorry to those such as King fans or Suzanne fans who I may have offended but not because I might have offended you but because I am sorry for not being sorry? But I am an asshole remember.

I swear some writers must be smoking crack

Click play to listen to the song to better get the feel of this post.

Five days and still no words, but take into consideration I have been in Maui: surfing the waves, drinking and enjoying the little things: Mai Thais, margaritas and masturbation. So cut me some slack.

I have come to realize over the past week, that it is amazing how much we forget. You see, life is fucking amazing but we often get caught up in the shitty parts of it, such as the bad days at work, or the seemingly endless years so many of us spend pursuing education. I sure did and the funny thing is that both of which serve only to lead us to where we wish to be….

In my case it is the dream of that beach house in Cali driving a Porsche that gets me hard and keeps me going. That said, it is in our nature to adapt and pursue our turn ons. I once heard the expression, “grab the shaft and never let go until you see the job done”. Though, the question was to what extent? Should we work ourselves to exhaustion, day in and day out?  The answer is no, to do so would mean to forget and become tired. This would lead us to lose touch with what living is all about…. And I have dictated this before in the infamous milestones we all enjoy. Including that of binge drinking, dance parties and embracing one and other.

But it is all quite simple… We must live to enjoy and love. Now hearing this, do yourself a favor and fall in love with as many things as possible because to love is to be human and there is nothing we need more in our lives then to embrace the beauty of the world around us, apart from sex and tokes.

Right now I am sitting on the very beaches that provide the inherited ability to do so and I see a mother holding the hand of her daughter all the while preserving the most righteous of smiles. I see people swimming, leaving their imaginations open to take them to the places that may only be compared to that of their childhood bliss. I also see those middle aged men, Google eyed at the sight of the accumulating splendor found in the: vibrantly lit bikinis, bubble butts, stunning breasts and jail bait the beach delivers. I can’t lie my eyes have wandered too but I lay in the third category where I see people who are simply missing those special people back home like the friends, family and significant others aka those special someone’s they left behind.

There is but one thing all these people have in common a state of, love, tranquility and peace. I have found most of them have achieved this feat through the alcohol vacation combo wombo.

More seriously, it is a fact that most of these peoples lives and ambitions have been shrouded within the shit life throws at everyone week after week, it seems the job cannot always be accomplished with ease. I’m sure I didn’t have to tell you that.

The point is life is damn hard and to use the previous analogies’ we all have a shaft to grab and a job to see through, hold your values close and get to where you want to be.

~The Asshole

Two Days for Every one

I sleep but I don’t. The nightmares began two weeks ago. Now, when I go to sleep, I go to hell and in hell I always thought they’d serve beer, they don’t. I heard I’d find strippers I cant. My friends told me they would bring Jane, they didn’t. All I found was her.

This place is simply covered in my own self-hatred. Here, there is only self-loathing and retribution; they are close friends of mine. It seems we all must face our deepest of grievances. She was mine.

You see, when I fall asleep, I wake up. Though, in this place things are mistaken and this place is as hopeless as it is un-forgiving.

All I can see is an empty field with its tall grass swaying in the dark wisps of the protruding fog. Everything appears in black and white. The only color lies within her piercing eyes.

The

Her

Of

My

Heart.

It is so real, but how? The sting of being alone, the fluctuating emptiness within my heart, how could I create such a place as entrenched in the blackness of my tormenting revelations, as this? Maybe I am more F*&ked up than I thought.

You could say, I made mistakes; mistakes I would go to dire straights to erase and vanquish because I was selfish and had hurt her. At this thought, I could not help but meet her gaze. I was searching for a glimmer of forgiveness or at least some form of mutual love but it left me vulnerable.

Suddenly, in a surge of ecstatic emotions all I could think about is how I must fix things, how I must hold her, feel her touch. I ran towards her and at the same time watched as the flicker of sadness and mistrust I had left her with began returning to her eyes. Though, she opened her arms to embrace me and I fell into them. For a moment, I felt the loving bliss I had once new. But moments never last and she began fading into the very wisps of darkness that defined my hell.

She was gone. I fell to my knees in pain. After awhile I looked up only to find a door. I knew not what was on the other side, but concluded I would rather be anywhere than here? And so, I went through the door and woke up.

2 a.m. on Saint Patrick’s Day. Binge drinking with a bedtime smoke, I must of passed out. It is like living two days for every one. The last few days have been horrible but Saturday always comes right? I think there is but one thing left to do before I let out the closing words to conclude this post. Cheers (Knock back the end of the bottle one last puff). To the bad days!

Fuck……………………

~Mr. Asshole who lost his heart~

To those who have been through horrible days:

By Bradley Scott

Listen to this song by Franz Schubert to better set the tone of this short story

 TO WHOM EVER READS THIS:

I Dr. Smith have had the luxury to experience the world for how it is. It seems we, as humans “are not what we are”. Continually, truths are hard to find as a result of the shroud of misconception we have created through human dishonesty. We seem to say things we do not mean in order to make other people happy. We even tell lies to avoid conflict and society views this as a bad thing. In some ways I have come to realize, that some truths are better left untold and the world can be a better place with the ability to lie. I have not always perceived the world under this light. There was a time not to long ago where I too, thought an honest world would prevail as a better one. I developed this thought, as the hypothesis in my study of an honest society. My question was, what would happen to the world as we know it if people had lost the ability to sanction their true thoughts. To do so, I created a machine that would make lying impossible.

After creating the machine, I did not know where to start. I ended up meeting with my best friend Mallory for drinks at my place. The moment he walked in the door I knew something was wrong.

“Hey Mallory it’s nice to see you! Mind telling me why you look like you got hit by a fucking train?”

“Well this is precisely why I came to see you old friend. I have not gotten any sleep in days.” He groaned, by the look in his eye I knew he was consumed by fury; a provoked bear waiting to lash out. I should have known what was to come but I didn’t. “My wife Cassandra, she is a god damn whore. I know she has been cheating on me! Remember our wedding day I gave her that diamond bound gold ring as a symbol of our love and she promised never to take it off. She has not worn it in weeks.”

“Mal, Cassandra would never do that to you, you know that have you been drinking?”

“Fuck she must be cheating on me man. Look, the other day I got home from work early. I needed to get on the computer to do our taxes; I came to a computer screen with her email open. I ended up reading a flirty message to my brother saying she will be their soon and that she hopes he has the ring. I will not act on this until I know for sure that she has cheated on me, I plan to confront her tonight.”

I could tell he was broken. When I looked into his eyes it was as if I could see an ocean of discontentment ready to flow over the dam of equilibrium and peace within him, a barrier that served as a last line of defense in the protection of the valleys of his heart. The relentless waters seemed determined to knock over this dam and wash away everything he had come to know. I did what I could to help him.

“Mallory we have been friends for a very long time now. I have something that can help you find the truth.” I pulled out the machine. It was smaller then a pocket phone and did not seem like much, yet its delicate platinum trim gave off flickers of its significant power. “This is the Invention of Honesty it might not look like much but it holds the power to force everybody in the room to speak nothing but the truth, all you have to remember is to flip the switch to on.”

I do not know what convinced him it would even work but I figured it had something to do with his declining mental state. But I had deceived him, leaving out the fact I had installed some recording as well as tracking properties to the device to better aid my study of an honest world.

I went home and dosed off. Luckily, I had fallen asleep with the transmitting device, which relayed every noise around the invention in hand.

I remember waking up to a car door slamming, then hearing Mallory’s voice. He was talking to a man on the street bartering for a butcher’s knife. I concluded that Mallory was going to kill his wife Cassandra if he found out she had truly committed adultery. Instantaneously, I was taken over by instinct and began sprinting out of my house towards Mallory’s apartment. I was hoping with all my heart to intercept him before he could make a mistake he could never live with.

I could not keep out the thought that if she dies I would have caused it. No, this could not happen. Ironically, everything seemed colorful and alive as I was running down the endless blocks of the city. It was as if I could see all things, things I had never seen before on the very streets I walk every day. Finally I reached his apartment and rushed into the elevator, having the device in hand. I heard Mallory begin his confrontation with his wife.

“Cassandra you know I have always loved you, I just do not understand why you have tormented me by being so insidious!” he screamed in pity as he began to cry. I wished the elevator to hurry up

“What? Mal I love you! Your scaring me.” She said in a trembling voice

“Here is your chance to tell me. Have you been sleeping with my brother”?

“Mal, never I promise never! Please.” I heard him flick the switch of the device to on. Consequently, I had begun to hope I would make it in time or that the machine would prove her innocent. I remember looking at the top of the elevator feeling as if the minutes were going by painfully slow. ‘

“Three floor’s to go ‘Damn! Why won’t this fucking elevator hurry up’ I screamed this four times at the top of my lungs and slammed the wall in frustration.

“I am going to ask you this last question and I know you will be honest this time. Did you give my brother the ring you promised you would never take off out of love?”

“Yes I did I wanted him to take care of something.” She grinned. In that moment I began running from the elevator to the door of their apartment

“You whore!”

Right then I relentlessly burst through the door as Mallory smashed Cassandra into the wall with his right arm and lifted the left. I let out a shout. “No!”

Cleaver in hand he ruthlessly tore the flesh of her stomach. I watched as the blood gushed from her veins and as fatty tissues slithered through the tormenting gash that the cleaver delivered.

“Here is your last chance before you die to admit your acts of adultery.” Mal cried in a stutter of insanity.

“I….. I’m.. Innocent.” Cassandra whispered in a last ghostly breath as blood spilled from her mouth.

Mallory’s eyes began bulging from his head; he fell to the ground as tears sprang from his eyes in the sudden realization of her innocence. He screamed, “What have I done. AHHH! My love, my dear Cassandra.”

To this day I can hardly fathom the outcome of it all and I too found myself drowning in a hole of this melancholy existence. My head at my knees I began to cry, I looked up to see Mallory standing with the cleaver in hand and watched him slowly stab the cleaver into his chest in a final attempt to seal the gapping hole within his heart. He fell to his knees and gave me one last look and whispered, “The invention of honesty?” With a chuckle he began to go, I watched the life pour out of him as he fell completely to the floor.

I stood up and went to the computer to investigate the emails Mallory had been telling me about earlier, I found out that she gave Mal’s brother the ring to have Mallory as well as her initials engraved on it to surprise him on valentines day, recreating the moment of their wedding day. Lost and plagued by the events of that night I began the journey home.

The more I seemed to walk, the greyer the world seemed. What had I done, my two closest friends lay dead and for what a misinterpretation of the truth? Maybe there is no such thing as honesty at all. Maybe a world without a distorted discrepancy on what we reveal to others and what we keep to ourselves is a purely impossible feat. I should have destroyed the machine that night and got on with my life as best as I could. A scientist by nature I kept going.

The next few years of my life I continued studying the effect of a society where people were forced to tell the truth verse the society we live in now blessed with lies. After knowing the potential danger of this device I had made sure to conduct all future research by a series of interviews with random people. Never under any circumstance would I allow anybody other then myself to access the machine again.

My practice consisted of beginning an interview with the device off, following up by turning the device on and repeating the questions in order to reveal the discrepancy on what one thinks verse what they share with others.

This takes me to today. I plan to destroy the machine and everything associated with it: the recordings, my notes, and myself. You see, I Dr. Smith have had the opportunity of seeing the world for how it is. People are truly devastating. I have seen the cruelty and lack of compassion we have for one in other expressed to the fullest extent. Life in this world is not worth living. My mind is in ruin and I have come to hate all things.  We live in a doomed existence with the sole purpose of being ruthless to one and other.

It seems over the years we have simply figured out a way to keep our hatred for one and other covered through dishonesty and deceit. Verbal discrepancies. I was once like everybody else. Somehow born into the ideology that this is all okay. We pretend that we as humans are good by nature. I guess I kind of wish that I still did. I would like to apologize to my relatives for what I am about to do. I know you could never understand but I cannot live with what I have come to know. In conclusion to my research I will leave you with this; some things are “honestly” better left unknown. Good-bye.

~Dr. Smith

The Doctor was found dead later that evening.

This Story is based off of the play Othello discussing my ideas about honesty and the affect it has on society and the character Othello. I have chosen to contrast the ideas developed in the play by arguing the opposite because the story of Othello portrays honesty as a valuable trait that would make the world a better place and is critical on lies and deceit.. My story contrasts this entirely as a series of truths lead to the misconception that causes the major conflict within my story. Please note literary use of names. Cassandra means entangler of men. Mallory means unfortunate or unlucky. 

Tomorrow is a funny thing in itself. Nobody can feign the future. Not even me. And It is safe to say today was horrible; I was practically disowned by my closest friend and the most amazing person I have ever met. Furthermore, It is incredible how I had not seen it coming, not even the day before. I must be oblivious or stupid. Human. Or maybe…the face of tomorrow is simply forbidden, ever changing and forever unknown to mankind.

Luckily enough, I have a pen and ink and we, as people are nothing if not artists by nature. Whether you’re a freestyle skier, dancer, bartender or even a writer like myself we all must paint and have been provided countless tools to do so.

I guess tomorrow is as impulsive and unpredictable as a woman and is therefore a she. Though she is beautiful with crimson blue eyes that could only be compared with that of the ocean, a lady of the water who swims in our future and many of us seek her gaze. In most cases it will never come. But it seems in her existence she remains loving, gorgeous and feeds the sumptuous glimmers of hope to all mankind. In contrast, she will inevitably hurt us all.

Nevertheless, she is not responsible for the reality we have made for ourselves, it is our own doing and by no means can I associate her with the negative connotation of her name. I have found that tomorrow has a particular way with me as well and you will find you will always have to love her, much like our so often infuriating family.

Today, I feel like shooting the messenger but tomorrow with her malicious smile is as disarming as she is wounding. In her carefree nature she is reluctant to our pain but at the touch of her presence, I have found myself seduced and persuaded to the most candid of prose.

 A wise mentor of mine once told me you can never hate tomorrow despite the hardships that may come and no matter how hard things may get, there is always something to look forward to.  You see, Saturday always comes, thank you.

~Saturday