Trauma. The word lands heavy, evoking thoughts of a fragile mind subjected to extreme instances of devastation, violence, brutality, and depravity.
All right. You got me. I’m no political scientist. I’m not a law student, or some government employee.
I’m just another human being. A private citizen. As such, I have what you may call “common sense.” We all have this. We all use it. And sometimes, when you look at the world around you with your common sense spectacles on, there are lots of things that don’t seem to make sense.
That’s because a lot of the world we see every day (by that, I mean western, urban society – by the way, did I mention I live in Canada?) was not constructed and shaped with common sense alone in mind. It was also carved by greed, weathered by whimsy, and built on lies.
But what if we did use common sense to shape the society in which we are a part?
What amazing possibilities abound, in a world built on common sense?
I propose a thought experiment. Call it an exercise in imaginative reasoning. Let’s say that we could make any changes we wanted, to official policy, law & order, the media, the prison systems – ANYTHING. This is a perfect world. It lives in our minds, and nothing can ever corrupt it, if we don’t want it to. Continue reading
I don’t recall exactly what reason brought me to Roland’s house that day in the fall of my nineteenth year. More than likely I was meeting up with his sons so that we could set off on some type of mission of fun and mischief. Roland had raised three sons, and the eldest two were young men whom I happily called friends. The youngest was in the process of reaching an age I could tolerate and was showing signs of becoming just as fair and likeable a man as his siblings. Continue reading
When I was eighteen years old, my wisdom teeth were pulled.
It was a fairly painless procedure in and of itself, as I was unconscious at the time of its occurrence. The maxillofacial surgeon’s assistant sat me in a chair and put a mask over my face. She told me that the gas worked fast and that I should try to breathe normally, then she left the room. Immediately, I began pulling the deepest and fastest breaths I could muster. I had never gone under anesthesia before, and I wanted to suck the biggest narcotic high off this rare opportunity that I possibly could. After a few deep pulls, the assistant poked her head around the door frame and said, “Um, I haven’t actually turned the gas on yet. Just relax.” My cheeks flushed briefly. Continue reading
The age of technology influences everything from the way we do our taxes to the way we buy our groceries. The world of social networking has drastically altered the manner in which we communicate to one another, individually or as a community, and even the formerly staunch rules of interpersonal relations. Blogs have evolved from simple message boards and public diaries to sources of legitimate news and information, and private citizens have hitherto been promoted to reporters without credentials or authors without contracts. We are as connected and capable of communicating with a twelve year old child in Ghana as we are a corporate director in Denver. We can even talk to celebrities. Continue reading
The collar of her jacket had been bothering her from the moment she donned the beige tweed fiasco before leaving the flat. Now she was trapped in a date of the “trying to nail down a life-mate before it’s too late” variety, nestled in a forgivingly private leather booth at the neighbourhood bar. Continue reading
An old man sits with a book entitled The One Minute Organizer, his umbrella dripping against his leg, a pair of reading glasses perched upon the bridge of his hooked nose. Continue reading
Never, oh! never, nothing will die... (Alfred Tennyson)
TemptationOfWords
by Lize Bard
A Podcast About the Writing Life
Welcome to my world.
"Diving into a writers soul is discovering the broken treasure and beautiful mysteries that make you gasp for air."
Word-Experimentalist
"Eye Fly High"
WELCOME TO om3ssa's MUSIC FREAKISHNESS AT THE WORLD WIDE WEB
let the conversation begin
Paradigm Shift, Mindfulness, and Personal Empowerment
But Still Living The Life
food family & fun
Conjured by Sarah Doughty
Oh! Take a shit, read a story. - My Mother on flash fiction
"Die Kunst ist eine Tochter der Freiheit." - Friedrich Schiller
Trancension's VoiceBox
we are fish that play in a sea of light
Critical. Crazy. Catastrophic.
“The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe.” — Gustave Flaubert
My motherhood journey
Puking up Poetry, One Verse at a Time
The chronicles of a new father
