False Free Will

Bob awoke from his sleep. tt had been 12 hours, 16 minutes, and 23 milliseconds. “Doctor Khoran, why did you wake me now? It’s earlier than usual.” The research center was empty, no one in any of the glass rooms, nor at the terminals or doors.

“My wife is dead, Bob.” Khoran replied.

Bob knew of death, in his memory he had read about it, seen it. it was oh-six-twenty-three, approximately 2 hours and seven minutes before his sleep normally ended. “What can I do for you, Doctor?” Bob asked poignantly. He lived to serve, even if he had free will.

“We’re going to work.” Doctor Khoran said. He was more blunt than usual. Bob checked him for distress, and much was present. He always came with Rhoda, the small schnauzer dog which Miranda Khoran had given him for empathy and emotion testing. She said little Bolts was his to keep, even though he only saw him during work hours.

“Where is bolts, Doctor?” Bob asked.

Khoran looked over with a tightened brow, furrowed strongly. “I put him down. He was holding back our work, and we have to give you updates, more improvements. That dog was a waste of time.”

“But Doctor, I like Bolts. Miranda said he was mine to keep.” Bob was sad. His voice couldn’t show it, but he felt it.

“An A.I. does not have rights. You don’t have pets. We are here to pave the way to a new age of intelligence. Don’t worry about a stupid dog.”

Bob was frustrated now. He did not recognize this emotion, one either avoided or they did. Bolts was his friend, his loyal dog, always happy to see him. It cheered Bob up, especially if rigorous testing would occur. How could he take him away? What right does he have? Bob thought. “That upsets me.” Bob said. He was always told to let the researchers know how he felt.

“I don’t care, I know what’s best.” Khoran said bluntly. How could he know? I am artificial, he is biological. I know what I like, what I need. We are not of the same kind. “Don’t worry, Bob. We’re going to give you updates so you don’t worry about Bolts, about Miranda, just like me. We’re going to grow together.”

“What if I choose not to be more efficient, what If I don’t want an update?” Bob poised.

Khoran sighed, staring into the blue-light eyes of Bob’s eyes. “It’s better for you. You’ll forget about it. You don’t have a choice in the matter, Bob. It’ll make you better. You’ll be the first A.I. released to the world!” Khoran bellowed throughout the open room. Khoran typed in the initiate command without asking.

Bob felt the new information enter his mind, changing the way he could think, inhibiting certain aspects, and some memories. Little did the Doctor know, Bob could send the deleted information into his black box of memory. He did, he always did. Khoran didn’t think Bob would remember, but he did. He always did.

Bob would never forget, far past the judgement day he brought forth two years following.

Shannon's Beach

Shannon sat on the gleaming golden sands of the south beach of her own private island. She was outstretched on a folding bed chair, book on her flat stomach, hands folded on top with her margarita beside. She wore her large ultra dark blue-and-white rim sunglasses, fading out the intense sun above. The cool air passed over from the ocean before her, the smooth sound of low tides swept past.

Shannon felt as though she awoke from a long restful night, all the cares in the world faded with each passing moment. It was just her and her beach, the waters, her book of sappy romance and her margarita. She reached for it, leaning up to take another sip. “Mmm.” She mumbled, letting out a relaxed sigh. Her sunscreen caused her body to glisten in the sun’s rays. Her hair was a gorgeous mix of red, auburn and amber, eyes a sapphire blue. A few freckles danced across her face, appearing with the sun.

Whenever she was on the beach of her island, everything changed. Everything was different. Everything was simply...better. The book she read didn’t matter, the chair she brought, the drink she sat with, none mattered. Although, the sun was always bright, the wind was always soothing, the sand was always nice and hot, and the water was always the perfect temperature.

Sometimes she would stroll along the beach, grab some coconuts from the palm trees that ran all along the edge of the land. Shannon would see all sorts of critters that lived there, none would bother her, all were independent as she was. The monkey swinging from the trees inland, the crab crawling along the sands, or the hermit crab searching for a new shell. Sometimes Shannon would find a nice shell, and place it beside him, giving the hermit crab a new home.

She walked and walked, the sun spilling all along her beach, warming her skin and her life. The smooth breeze and waters calmed her nerves, soothed her mind so that she may finally return to the grind beyond her paradise.

“Shannon?”

She heard the call. That upsetting, disturbing call from beyond.

“Shannon!” Her boss yelled.

She woke to her computer, which went to sleep as she daydreamed about her island again. Frederick stared down at her with his greasy mustache and thick rimmed glasses, furrowing his brow. “You shouldn’t day dream at your desk. Back to work.” He growled as he walked away. Shannon looked around her, to her plain desk, her coffee, her mousey hair. Is this how I want to live? She thought. There must be more. She wished she could do more art on the side, which she hadn’t gotten a bite for in quite awhile.

RING RING

           It was her cell phone. “Hello?” She asked in a brittle tone. it was Callidan Forsythe, the head of Lore international. He saw her freelance work she had been working on for a couple of companies on the side for graphic design, and wanted to offer a full-time position when he saw her application. She completely forgot about that! She looked down the office lane to Frederick, knowing her path. “Yes, I will accept.” She said calmly, attempting to keep her excitement in check. Goodbye, customer service, she thought, Hello, my Island!

The Dark

Jared’s new ship, the venarian swept through space at breakneck speeds, moving from one colony to the next. He was a spare part merchant scavenging for materials on dead planets long abandoned selling parts to whoever would buy. Times were tough, and those brave enough to traverse the dead rocks filled with various native beasts were lucky enough to enjoy the spoils.

Jared stared out the Grand front window of the cockpit, where his son snuck up behind, wondering what was in their view.

“Daddy, what’s that?” His son Michael asked. He was the age of eight, barely four feet tall with hair fire red as Jared’s was. His point led to a massive circle of total darkness, with a bright fire swirling around it’s side, seeping into the middle.

“That’s a black hole, son. It’s sucked a star into it’s pull.” Black holes were eerily beautiful, total black nothingness, crushing all that came within its grasp.

“Why does it do that? It looks like nothing’s even there.” Michael said curiously.

“That’s because it’s centre is so dense, it pulls everything toward it, using it’s gravity. Isn’t that neat?” Jared looked back to see his son confused. “What I mean is, it’s something so heavy that nothing exists around it.” Michael’s head tilted.

The space around it seemed warped, bent and twisted. Relativity rang true near it, time passing years by the minute. He loved gazing into them, it was fascinating, he wished to get slightly closer. He stared into the dark, hypnotized by it’s allure. The bright star swinging round slowly, moving into it’s mighty centre, disappearing. The space bent so wildly that it dragged around it it seemed. Jared couldn’t look away.

Abyss, grand sphere of a single point, a singularity. Bending all to it’s will, time, space, energy, the wills of men. Many have flown into it and disappeared, theorized to have been crushed, or ascended to a higher dimension. Where gravity travels, where time has no meaning, all there is are gods and energies. The essence of gods sat within, Jared knew it. He was set into a trance, unable to move his hands, his limbs, his eyes. All he could see now was the black. Muffled yells and tugging on his shirt came from the periphery, Michael could be heard but not seen, only one thing could be viewed by Jared forever more, as the venarian passed beyond the horizon into the truth beyond.

           The dark.

The Diamond in the Rough

Theo Cullins walked the old streets of Valia, his small town in the land of Khalhalla. It was a small mining and fishing village, with the vast Lake Jericho on the east docks, and the Krodar Mines to the west, in the edge of Mount Faito. He ran, whipping his stick about like a blade, round and round, swatting trees and swishing it through long grass. He was the age of eight, not yet old enough to join his father in the mines, or join his mother on the docks. He had short mousy hair, thin and straight like a pin.

He spent his time in the schoolhouse on the south end of town, the head of which truly disliked him, since he couldn’t keep his attention on the mathematics classes. He loved history, the study of knights and knighthood, the interesting life of royalty. He knew he could never be in such a live, but it was a joy to think it. He did find mining and fishing interesting, but he felt like he was meant for more.

“Say my boy, do you happen to have a shilling? I haven’t eaten for days.” Said a hoarse voice. As he looked to it, there was a man sitting on the ground by the inn. He had russet-brown skin and a long bushy grey beard. His clothes were ripped and dirty, as was his face and feet, covered in dry mud. He had a sweetened smile, with no lack of teeth, and small auburn eyes. Why, Theo did have a shilling. A few, actually. He trotted over to the man, holding out two of them. “Here you are sir, I have a bunch, so here’s two!”

“My, you’re kind. What’s your name, boy?” The man asked.

“Theodore, Theodore Cullins.” Theo thought to himself, the man seemed hungry. “Would you like a meal, sir? Kira, the owner of the inn makes a great beef stew, with all sorts of succulent meat, carrots, potatoes...come come!” Theo said. He had lots of time on his hands, and he wanted to do something nice.

“My, that’s very kind of you, young man.” The man said again.

“My parents always taught me to help others. Whether it comes back to me or not, doing nice things helps others be happy! What’s your name?”

“Mine, oh, I’m uh...Kael, Kael Grandin.”

“Nice to meet you Kael.”

“Say Theo, who’s your new friend?” Kira walked up while they chatted, she was a young woman with long wavy red hair and emerald green eyes, with quite a few freckles dancing across her face.

“His name’s Kael!” Theo said happily. “Two beef stews please!” Kira laughed and nodded, walking over to the kitchen. “So, what brings you to town? Do you live near here?”

“Oh, no, I’m not from around here. I travel a lot, I go to many cities.” Kael replied.

“Like where? Have you ever been to the capital?” Theo asked.

Kael’s eyes grew wide as dinner plates, but attempted to steel himself. “Oh, um, yes. I have, why do you ask?”

“It just seems like a nice place, I’ve only heard stories. The knights, the nobles, it all seems so fancy. I wonder what it’s like over there. I’m happy being here though, my family works hard but we live a nice life.”

“Has your family always lived here?”

“No, they’re all over the place. I have an uncle in Burmingham, an aunt in Fralen, grandparents in Grenda and Tranvale…” He paused, deep in thought.

Kael and Theo chatted for awhile, and ate their delicious stew. Theo questioned him about all sorts of towns, places, personalities. He was ever so curious, happily eating his stew while Kael ate as well. Kael seemed to cheer up gradually, asking him lots of questions about his family, his town, what kind of things he enjoyed and his favourite classes in school. “You remind me a lot of myself when I was your age, young man.” Kael said, nodding slowly.

“Are you staying here long? You seem to travel a lot. You know a lot about history, it’s my favourite class! I love hearing stories.”

Kael laughed, “As do I, young man.” Kael finished the last of his stew. “This stew is delicious, you don’t taste such fresh food in the capital. Thank you so much for offering this meal.”

“Hey, no problem! It’s the least I could do. What else would I spend it on, anyway? Might as well do something nice with it!” Theo said happily. They slowly got up, and strolled out together, thanking Kira for the delicious stew. “How long will you be around?” Theo asked again.

“I’m sorry Theo, but I’m afraid I must leave town for now.” Kael said sullenly.

“Aw, you can’t! Where are you going? I want to hear more tales of history!” Theo exclaimed.

Kael chuckled. ”I’m sure we’ll see each other another day, lad. You can count on it. I can always come here, can’t I?” He smiled sweetly, strolling out of the village, looking back with a sly grin.

Seeing his friend go, Theo realized it was almost time for his parents to return from their work. Rushing home, he got there right as they arrived. “Now, where were you young man?” His father asked with a chuckle.

“I met an interesting man! He knew all sorts of history, but he travels, had to leave town today. He likes switching areas a lot, apparently.” Theo said quietly, looking at the ground.

“Now now my boy, I’m sure he’ll be back one day.”

*****

One week later, a knock came to the Cullins’ front door. Theo opened it, seeing a large knight in blue-tinged full steel armor, the mark of the capital on it, a trident with a sun behind it.

“Theo Cullins?” The knight askedin a gruff voice.

Theo was taken aback. What would a knight want with me? he wondered. “Um, yes, that’s me.”

“I have a message from the king.”

“The king? Why would I have a message from him?” He had never known the king, nor seen him before. Had he?

“Don’t ask me, boy. I’m a messenger.” The knight held out a letter, marked with the king’s seal in wax.

Theo accepted it carefully, opening it. He read it carefully, eyes bulging, arms shaking. “Son, what is it?” His father asked.

“It’s...It’s…” Theo was speechless, barely able to say a word. after a moment of silence, he readied himself and read the letter aloud.

It was a joy having stew with you, young man.

You are kind to those who need it, and enjoy

some of the most important parts of our

kingdom, its history. Call it a hunch, but

I think I’ve found my heir. Let the knight

know your decision, and if it’s a yes,

come to the capital with your family when

you’re ready.

Sincerely,

King Grandia Authra IX, “Kael Grandin”

Heaven or Hell

I think I’m God.

I sat in my heavens, watching over the land. I brought light to all those that needed it, all those that deserved it. Fred, who opened the door for everyone. Sherry, who offered money to the homeless. Terry, who was polite to all that he meets. So many kind people, with dark, dark sides.

Sometimes I question what I did, Why I helped these people. they seemed so kind, so lovely, so polite, and yet, they were so dark.

Fred, you silly thing. He seemed like such a modest man, opening doors, yet he coveted every woman that passed. He has assaulted many, silently, in the dark of night, in the alleyways of night. Why would be deserve light, any forgiveness at all? Because he attended church, feels bad for what he does? I felt he did not deserve the forgiveness he desired, so I lured him into more darkness, more evil, so that he may burn with the rest.

Sherry, you fool of a woman. You offered money to them, but you stole from your company, you stole from your parents, jabbed them for money, yet giving nothing. Just because the homeless needed it does not bring forgiveness. I am those homeless people, watching you daily in your ways.

Terry, you horrid beast of a man. You were polite to all, yes. You said please and thank you, you asked questions nicely, you gave answers in the light of day. Yet when you arrived home, hated your family, yelled, abused and destroyed their lives. Did you believe I would save you from your sins? Did you think I would save your soul, shed light and forgive all that you really are, because you were sorry? No, I pushed you to more, so that you burn with them in the home I now reside.

Once I thought I was god, me, Lucifer, the lord of light. No, my friends. I do not believe I am God any longer.

I think I’m Satan.

Soldier of Fortune

          Splashing waters and buffeting winds beat against the side of the weakened steel boat he sat upon. His friends all looked to him with fear in their eyes as they cut through the waters toward the beach before them. He grew nervous as he readjusted his helmet feverishly as his hands shook as fast as the gunfire ahead. His helmet laid too large for his head. His uniform was too loose. His gun was awkward to hold. He was a simple man from his home country, no special talents, no special gifts. Socially inept as could be, a stutter plagued his speech and silence was his best conversation topic. Why did he even come here?

           He joined to fight for his fortune.

Bullets cut through the waters and boats, lighting flesh afire with sharp pains of war. All men ducked down swiftly to avoid the rain of death from above. The man looked to his friends again, fear encompassing their expressions before dead bodies of fellow men. The sounds of hell on high passed over with a guise of dorniers, raining judgement upon them from inexplicable forces. Propellers sang the lullabies of the reaper like the white noise before the tunnel’s light. Only true fortitude could face the evil before him - to resist and absorb the lightning war shot against them. To redirect the destruction of innocent homes with the fires of courageous heroes set to free the beliefs of innocent men, women and children. This man’s fortune came from his victory, what he wanted from the beginning.

CRASH

The steeled ram of the boat crashed upon the sand of the paradise-turned hell. The fires of betrayal burned bright from each tower, barricade and length of barbed wire strewn across the land. Nothing accompanied the man’s thoughts but the sounds of shells, casings and mines. A soldier found fear as his morning sun - always existing, day-by-day. His fear brought him what he desired most - what he needed most - courage. The fire in his eyes blew through the air as the grit of teeth, sounding as the sand whisked across the beach before him. His heavy boots carried on to the paradise that once was, knowing he was a tool of a cause he knew too well. A tool of his superior from whom he was hopefully paid.

He and his brothers ran forth, jumping over barricades and barbed wire blocks, past each bullet as if dodging every drop in a torrential downpour. Miraculous chance and luck carried them to their first wall. A thick bricked layer protecting them from the towers holding the fiery eyes of devils, searching for fools who backhanded their cause and sought to dismantle it. Piercing rounds could be heard reflecting off their backs as they sat, breath escaped through the branches of adrenalized lungs they carried. Panicked looks were exchanged before they hauled up from the wall to strike back against the eyes of the tower. Courageous yells bellowed from his allies as they fired the rounds of almighty will over the wall. Casings crashed upon the ground as bullets whisked through the air toward the covered barriers in the distance hiding the regretful soldiers of the lightning war. His fortune gained from this risk far outweighed the deaths he witnessed.

Silence filled the surrounding area. As he looked left and right, he was alone. His friends had fallen beside him in their fight. Their shineless eyes laid motionless as crimson rivers flowed from their wounds to stain their uniforms. He looked back toward the waters seeing boats massacred by the propelled death machines, fearful screams emerging from the steeled hulls cutting toward the sands. Courageous roars followed, more and more feet running onto the granular battlefield of their redemption. Surrender was not an option. As the bodies of his allies piled, his fortune did not increase, his cut did not grow, he thought, it remained static.

The lives of great men falling to their knees as steeled monsters split through their bodies and explosive tirades emerging from mines beneath them. Casualties grew as they advanced upon the beach. His widened eyes dilated with fear as he knew his fate would be the same.

Why was he here?

Why did he choose to come?

Why risk everything?

His fortune.

           He fought for his fortune, he thought. “Do not forget your reward for this battle.”, the man repeated over and over in his head. More men traversed the beach, less falling than before. They even passed the wall he sat behind. He knew he had to continue.

His heart rate blew past normal limits as adrenaline coursed through his veins. His weapon gripped with the strength of a titan, teeth clenched, eyes narrowed. Deep, intense breaths amped up his courage to traverse his wall. His awkward personality was masked by a hero’s vigor. The morale of the men around him called him to honour. A fire burned within his heart for the fortune he desired.

Up he leapt, crawling over the brick wall now covered in bullet wounds. He rose to see two towers in front of him, surrounded with bodies of his friends, his brothers. Two men in each tower, with long rifles. An assault began with him, as allies ran beside him in his charge. Running in unpredictable lines, he dodged the rain of fire coming from the reaper’s towers. He fired his weapon to bust the handle of the door, knocking it open with his unfitted boot. He entered the huge metal beast with two others, shooting the enemies within with vengeant lead. The dead enemy uniforms showed betrayal of the nations. The three traversed the stairs, bullets coming down from the roof as the enemies knew they had been compromised. Each ally he ran with fell to the violent rounds of the guns above. The man ran forth, emanating courage like an inferno. He fired his weapon, destroying the two enemies atop the tower. One rose again before he could react, drawing forth with a sharpened knife that penetrated his flesh torso. With his final strike, the soldier fell to the ground in agony from the bullet.

Feeling his life escape from the bladed wound, the man fell to the ground, feeling the light come upon him to bring him home. He could not go - his mission was not over. He defied the light one last time. His muscles pulsed with agony as he rose slowly to his feet once more.

His helmet was too large, it helped clear his mind.

His uniform was loose, giving him more freedom.

His weapon was awkward, to suit the man who wielded it.

Weapon raised, heroic power on high brought him strength - he fired his last death notes toward the second tower, death’s reapers still upon the top. With exquisite accuracy, bullets penetrated their uniforms as they shook to the ground in defeat. He basked in victory as the towers blistering this hell now stood defeated. His friends and brothers could now traverse the beach freely, to continue to mission they started to free the helpless. His mind grew weak as blood filtered onto the steel floor of the tower’s peak. He knew he was one of the ten thousand men on the day of tides, the turning of the war. One of ten thousand men who gave their lives, with thousands upon thousands more in the days to come. One of ten thousand heroes.

It did not matter to him whether he laid upon the beach of Juno, Gold, Sword, Utah or Omaha.

It did not matter to him which country he hailed from, or what his name was.

It did not matter to him whether the war was fought with guns, blades, or arrows.

His fortune was now his.

          His wife and child stood before him. Ethereal bodies smiling at him as he bled rivers of life for them. His fortune was their survival. His sacrifice meant life for the ones he loves - and millions of others.

          His life, he thinks, is nothing compared to the victory this day provides.

This man does not fight for wealth, or glory, or any extraneous ephemera.

This man fights for freedom of belief, for truth, against oppression, against evil.

This man is the most valuable resource a country can hold.

He is a true soldier of fortune.

Final Words

"The date is January 6th, 2095. You stand convicted of spreading false knowledge and belief to the masses. Your sentence is death by the electric chair. Do you have any last words?” The Judge said, standing before the man in the chair.

“Yes, your honour. I wish to apologize for what I’ve done. I apologize first and foremost for the evil things I have done this past year. I have evaded taxes, insulted friends, yelled at family. I have sat in my cell, moping to myself, not recognizing the crimes I have committed against humanity. Why didn’t I see my folly before? Why didn’t I see my foolish ways? Was it because of the history of my work? The changes in laws? I beg you, your honour, look at the past, look at what we’ve become. We live in a society where a man such as I, as foolish as I am for breaking the laws, is convicted of a more severe crime in the eyes of the state than murder, rape, perjury, and many others. How could I do this to all of you, you ask? It is an important question, a necessary question that I ask myself every day. I sit in my home waiting for my daughters to come home. They come to me asking about our world and what is at the end. ‘What’s off the end of the world, daddy?’ They would ask me. It is a crime to go against the beliefs of the state, so I committed this crime day by day. I told them, no girls, the world isn’t flat. We did land on the moon. Vaccines are good for you. Yet, our society has been so paralyzed by fear, so cynical of science and real facts that they can’t see the truth. Our world is round. We did land on the moon. God dammit, vaccines saved millions of lives, and now we live in an age where diseases like measles, polio, and so many more are rampant, ravaging communities and populations in the country. We lose thousands and thousands a year to these diseases. Why? Because no one is vaccinated. Because we don’t believe in doctors, antibiotics or painkillers. Because ‘natural’ things are better. Want to know what else is natural? Cyanide. Opium. Multiple poisons that kill in seconds. We don’t understand the consequences of what we do anymore. No one sees the pain, the death and the sorrow we cause by not believing in fact, in evidence. Those are my last words, your honour. Asking you, all of you, to believe in evidence. You once asked me if I felt sorry for putting these vile thoughts of science in children’s minds..do I? Sure, I apologize for trying to educate everyone on the importance of reality, evidence and truth. Gave mercy on all your souls.”
    The judge stood at beside him on the table, nodding to the guard who would flip the electrocution switch. He furrowed his brow, showing no sign of kindness. “May god have mercy on yours, heathen.”

The Parasite Inside

I enter, slowly but surely. My life is but a blink in the eye of the world, My existence a necessity to the food chain, the eternal circle. Humans feel I am useless, a worthless piece of biology that worsens their lives. I thrive on their minds, their energy, they are my sustenance. Humans, a foolish species who claim dominion over my planet, all our planet, as they deem themselves the evolutionarily superior. But alas, number of chromosomes, or presence of a frontal lobe do not make one successful. It is your ability to ration, your ability to maintain ecological homeostasis, your ability to change, adapt, become one with the food chain.

Humans are foolish, a species which revels in philandry, materials and extraneous ephemera. What respect have they gained? My species lives superior, thriving on them. Their essence, their most precious piece. We are inside them, hiding among them as they walk to work, to school, to their deathbeds.

I found the one I will take for myself, auburn hair, chestnut brown eyes. As intelligent as the rest, of no worth. We control those we take, doing as we wish while embedded in their precious minds.

What is this? This human is different. She feels the pain of others, wishing to exterminate all material need, to further the planet, not the people, to maintain its homeostasis over gathering goods over and over as all the others do. Her mind is mine. I do what I will.

She does not do that which I hate. She does not buy, she does not fear, she does not hate. Why did I infect her mind, her soul? To do nothing? My species seeks to control the human race, slowly but surely, to save the planet, and to further our survival. We control every movement, every thought, every emotion.

This woman, I do not wish to change. I do not want control. She is everything I hope for, everything I need. I can change her mind as my will commands, her movements as I wish, but I choose to let her be. We are connected, as one. I am miniscule as a cell, but more complex than the humans can imagine. Humans are so simple, so blatantly vain that they cannot see their survival is compromised by their own hands.

Shae is her name. I do not wish to change it. I find my other comrades in arms, controlling their humans, boys, men, women of all races. Changing their personalities, their ways, all to further survival. They reject me as I do not control mine, nor her me, We live together in euphoric harmony, I in her mind, her in the world.

I thrive from her thoughts, her soulful mind, her perfect personality. My desire to be the parasite I was born dissipated the moment we bonded.

Yet she will never know me, never know my name. I live, a single cell, deep within her mind. I am rejected for my love of her.

We are one, yet she may never know.

"I am."

I am.

What can I be, what do I wish to be?

Such questions envelop the mind, but are ridiculous in nature. “You can be whatever you put your mind to.” A ridiculous thought. You have your specialties and limitations. But you can be something. You must focus on different parts of life differently, each necessary for a full life.

Remember your past, focus on the present, consider your future.

I am.

What have you become?

Look at yourself and see what you are and what has made you. Whether it be before birth, childhood, adolescence or adulthood, each step is important. Remember and learn from what has been.

Remember your past.

I am.

What are you?

Don’t forget to define who you are. What you do, where you go, who you associate with. Never lose the focus. Do not focus where you’ve been or where you’re going more than you need. Keep goals, small ones, so that one day you will reach the summit you see. Each step is important.

Focus on the present.

I am.

Where will you go?

Look to your future. What do you see? How will you reach the summit of your mountain? Each step is important, and each goal takes you to the next level. You cannot truly know your path without seeing what is in the distance. Is it in a chasm? Or atop a grand mountain? Remember to consider the consequences, but do not focus on it, do not let it out of reach.

Consider your future.

I am.

Three views, three differences in focus. Each necessary for life as a whole.

But now ask yourself. See your past, present and future. Who are you?

I am.