The very long start, now furnished with an end

The shore slowly disappeared, as the boat chugged slowly away. It had been nice on that island, a beautiful place and lovely place. They yearned to stay, to enjoy themselves for just a few more days,but they still had to leave. They had to move on, to push ahead, to explore.

Nothing was worth delays in their schedules. They had to leave. It was simply part of the job.

The boat moved along, every cough, and pull of the motor bringing them closer to the shore. Chug... Chug.... Chug..... Time, place, and people other than the crew had no meaning on the boat. All that surrounded them was the deep, unreadable sea.

As they drew closer to their destination, the outlines of an old dilapidated harbor, slowly materialized over the horizon. On the old pier, was a young child...

The young child in question was sitting at the harbor, staring out into the calm deep blue waves in front of him. The soft, emollient caressing sea breeze stroked his cheek intimately, lovingly, much like a lover's soft endearing lips, brushing ever so gently, so fondly past him.

He felt it. He felt the sweet warm wind caress his face, his arms, and his legs. He heard the soft rustle, the soft flapping as it brushed past his clothes, felt the hair above his forehead rise, and long to be with the wind, to follow it, to stay with it, to be fly high in the sky! To whip around, unbridled, unrestrained, unchained... to drift with the cloud, just as he pleased...

Wistful, he turned back, to look once again, at the borderless mass of water before him, and wondered, if he would ever see the other end of it. He so desperately wanted to see the other side of the world, to experience life outside the confining prison that was Pandora! He yearned to explore every corner of the world, to be the ardent adventurer found the the old tales. Oh how much he wanted to leave everything behind him, and leave to see the corners of the world, the world beyong the tiny island of Pandora...

However, sometimes, while staring across the seas, he felt that he was staring at a far away star, a star so far out of his grasp, he was afraid he might never reach it...

Wistful again, he turned back to the sea, staring intently at it, noticing every detail of it, from the deep, dark unknown depths, to the soft, slivers of light casted through the slits in the walls behind him.

As he stared hungrily as the sea before him, the soft shafts of light slowly sharpened, hardened, turning the ocean a light shade of green. Still the boy watched with those longing eyes, yearning to see beyond, thoroughly unwilling to leave, as though staring into the waters enabled him to understand its dephs, its shores, and its secrets. The bright clear green ocean slowly dimmed, darkening, its depths growing slowly murkier. The shafts of light softened again, lengthening, growing ever so much dimmer. The shadows of the walls grew long, and longer, finally dominating the pier as the light, slowly faded.

But no! A set of sharp headlight broke sharply across the landscape, into the boy's reverie. The lights, two of them, sharp and powerful, panned across the waters surface...

The child leapt up in an unlikely mixture of amazement, and infuriation, as the boat neared him, coming closer, and closer,

The ship was an abnormality, a newcomer, something that did not belong! It sliced ever so sharply across the beautiful serene features of the ocean, blood pounded sharply in his veins. In that moment, he hated the boat, despised it for everything it stood for! He had heard that these were the people responsible for killing the fish his people relied on; These were the people who had destroyed other settlements for their own benefit; These were the people who had ruin peaceful life on Pandora!

Yet,the boat was a massive trade boat, filled with all forms of modern technology the chuld had never seen before, technology that was said to be able to improve his life, and the lives of countless others!

He stood there, in staring at the boat, wrangling with his emotions, watching as the boat approached the island, then slowly, majestically dock at the pier.

An old, grizzled boat captain stepped impatiently out of the boat, and looked around him, surveying the little settlement he had just arrived in. A group of men soon followed, hands filled with baggage, stretched to their full capacity. Soon, a young man and a boy followed out of the boat. One was probably in his early 20s, with a brutally short haircut, and strong, defiant features. He stood erect, and like his father, quickly surveyed the area. The boy had his back facing the boy, composedly looking, not at the settlement, but back at the boat, back over the sea...

"Thomas! Pluto! Get over here! We've got to find accommodation soon, or we can forget about retiring for the night!" The father barked, as he marched over to the two young men.

"Father, that weird looking kid over there is looking at us!" The short haired young man,Thomas half-whispered.

The boy, Pluto, did not turn, seemingly disinterested in the young boy who had been alluded to. The old captain too,hardly spared the young boy a glance. He said, or rather announced rather pompously and flamboyantly, "That's because we're new here, and because we're rich! Ignore him, let us leave now, and pray follow me, and let us find some suitable accommodation" The captain swept away, followed closely by Thomas, the short haired man, and their retinue of bag carriers.

The young child was about to turn away, when he noticed the other child, Pluto had not followed the troupe. Instead, now, he turned around, and the boy saw his face for the first time...

His face...

The boy's heart stuttered for 1 moment, then stopped. A deep powerful wrenching feeling in his gut pulled he toward the ground,he felt his legs weaken, his body pull towards the Pluto. His gut impulse was to lunge at him, to grab him, to hold him, to achieve attain the intimate contact he so yearn for. His muscles slowly tensed, then relaxed again. Suddenly the resentment for the boat, for the man, and for his crew vanished. Suddenly it wasn't important anymore, as they stood, on that old dilapidated pier, gazing at the others profile, his face, his feature, his eyes...

Footsteps echoed near the arch leading away from the pier. The young man spun around. As suddenly as it had began, their moment of quiet gazing, of privateness, of intimacy ended.

The boy stared, dumbfounded, too young, and too innocent to understand any of it, to comprehend the situation that had occured, to know what had just sprang between them. He just stood, quietly at the pier, staring, watching as the children of the captain strode away.

Meanwhile, Pluto hurried away, meeting Thomas half way along the arch. They strode away in quick authoritativeness strides, never turning to look at that street urchin on the pier.
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"Catch me!" he yelled, ecstatic, as he sprinted through the tall grass, "You're so slow I bet you can't even see me... ooph!" The air was knocked out of him, as Pluto tackled his from the side, sending them both crashing to the ground.

No, not onto the ground... He landed on... the boy! Pluto!

"Gerroff me...", Pluto grunted, trying to catch his breath...

But he didn't get off Pluto. He felt as sharp rush of euphoria as the endorphin kicked in.

He turned around, instead placing his hands around the boy's neck, and looked into his eyes... They both shared that moment, one atop the other, looking deeply into each others eyes, both trying to catch their breaths.

He leaned forth, and closed his eyes.

The shadows began to lengthen; A soft wind blew lightly through the grass. An observer would have heard the soft, but sharp rustle of the grass, and seen the beautiful yellow sunset splayed across the sky, and seen the two young boys dozing lightly in the grass, peacefully resting in a world of their own.

The news came the next day. Business here was done. It was time to leave.

Fortunately, or otherwise, a member of the crew had taken to the small island, and had decided to retire, and stay on Pandora. A vacancy was open to the villagers, to join the crew on their voyages. Pluto claimed it would allow the person to explore every corner of the earth, to see the earth beyond Pandora. Pluto said if he took the opportunity, he could see as much as he desired

Pluto said it would allow him to be with Pluto forever.

But he had a family! He had a sick mother, a drunkard of a father, and 3 younger sisters to take care of, who all relied on his earnings to keep them afloat!

His dysfunctional family needed him!

But yet...

The other choice, was for Pluto to leave, and in all likelihood, for ever...

Torn, he brought his fists down onto the tree trunk before him... Did he trully have to give up Pluto, or his family?

Pluto said he had one day to consider, one day before he was forced to leave, with his father, and his brother.

A day till he had to make the painful choice.

A day...

He sat down at the pier, gazing into the sea as the shadows grew long, as time ticked by... He felt painfully aware of time's passing, yet could not bring himself around to noticing it. He needed to consider, to choose, to think!

It hit him. Why couldn't it happen that way?

He had to find Pluto.

He had to tell Pluto about his thoughts, about his choice. Turning, he sprinted away towards the inn.

A young boy sat at the harbor, staring out into the calm deep blue waves in front of him. The soft, emollient caressing sea breeze stroked his cheek intimately, lovingly. It felt so much like his soft, pink endearing lips, brushing ever so tenderly, so fondly over his own.

His lips.

He felt it. He felt the sweet warm wind caress his face, his arms, and his legs. So gentle, so loving, so much like his touch. Perhaps he had made the wrong decision! Perhaps he should have.... but no... it was the best choice he could make...

Wondering, pondering, and deep in thought now, he turned back, to look once again, at the borderless mass of water before him, and remembered, as a young child he had so desperately wanted to explore every corner of the world, to be the ardent adventurer found the the old tales.

Perhaps,he had been foolish then. His dream to see the world had been like a faraway star, whose light travelled over millions of years to reach him. Perhaps the star he had been staring at had already disappeared for many many years now. Perhaps it had disappeared long before his birth... But maybe it was still there, this existing, still giving out light, still hanging in the sky!

But he would never know. He could only hope that he had made the right decision. As he watched the ship depart, he realized that he might miss its crew, and might one day long for their company... But the decision was made. He was not going anywhere.

The old dilapidated harbor, with the young boy perched on the old pier slowly disappeared, as the boat chugged slowly away. It had been nice on that island, a beautiful place and lovely place. They had all yearned to stay, to enjoy themselves for just a few more days,but they still had to leave. They had to move on, to push ahead, to explore.

Nothing was worth delays in their schedules. They had to leave. It was simply part of the job.

The boat moved along, every cough, and pull of the motor bringing them further from the pier, and closer to the shore of the next island. Chug... Chug.... Chug..... Was he still staring at them? Maybe, they had gone too far to see clearly anymore. After all, time, place and people other than the crew had no meaning on the boat. All that surrounded them was the deep, unreadable sea.

As they drew closer to their destination, the outlines of new shore, slowly materialized over the horizon. On the shore, stood a young child...

Still nothing

He reached out, extending a hand to draw the curtains before him. Pausing for an infinitesimal moment, he inhaled the sweet musty smell it exuded, felt the multitudinous strands of fibre within the dusty cretonne in his hands, heard its soft rustle within his hands.

It felt the same, just as it had done in the innumerable occasions in the past.

But it was gratifying all the same.

The heavy, musty curtains swung slowly to the side as the dark confining windows slowly lifted. A fresh gust of air entered the room, displacing the cool, musty and stale air around him.

He sniffed; it was, among other things, the smell of petrichor, of moisture.

He stood to the side, as the latest breeze brought about a thick mist of rainwater in the small dank room. The mist sank slowly toward the ground, losing the battle to gravity, as its weight brought its efforts to fruitlessness.

As if the room needed more moisture.

He spun back towards the window, drawing it shut with a bang.

Spinning on the spot, he then marched calmly across the room, towards the door.

Something hit him, hard. Then it was gone, just as quickly as it came. He turned back, and again.

What was it? It had been a growing seed of doubt niggling in his mind for sometime now; a thought that had been bothering him for so long he had almost learnt to ignore it; to ignore its occasional sudden appearances in his mind...

It hit him, again, hard; escape!

He had to escape; to leave this place, to go to find...to find...

To find what? What was left out there? Who would still welcome him?

Frustrated, he ripped the curtains open again, and stared out at the quiet, barred and insidious street before him. A place which was his prison, his hell, the last place he wanted to be!

Yet, it was his home, his shelter, his last remaining place...

Torn, he leaped onto the small bed behind him, searching, seeking for the solace of his sheets. He tried to hold it back, but the warm droplets of emotion burst forth from within, uninvited, but inescapable, inevitable; flame on his cold, hard, and jaded exterior. He cried like he never had before, as though the emotion and feeling within him could no longer be contained, or held in. As he sobbed, fear, sadness and indecision left him, as though he were undergoing absolution; catharsis, flooding out of his eyes with his tears.

But just as quickly, anger filled him, expanding within him, taking over his emotions, his mind, and his very soul! Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to suffer? Why was he forced to lose everything?! The rage congealed at the bottom of his skull, blocking all other feelings; stoppering up the access of all other thoughts. He wanted to strike something, someone; lash out; injure; hurt!

He leapt up, running to the door; screaming; banging. He wanted to get out, he NEEDED to get out!

But he couldn't. He kicked, yelled, screeched, but no one came...

Once again, he sat down, in defeat, and in pain, back into the dreary rhythm of life.

The wheel turned, the seconds ticked by, as time passed. What did he care? Time meant nothing to him.

Then, a knock. and another, as the scraping sound of a key entering a lock was heard. The door opened, and a shaft of light entered the room.

A head, followed by a voice..

"Dear, you have visitors..."

Absolutely Nothing

Perhaps the humans are as such.

Perhaps humanity is really that inconsequential globule of stupidity, best explained by as an incoherent trundle of insanity, of irrationality, which has exceed tolerance of even the brobdinagian earth.

Perhaps we trully are past the point of possible redemption, where we have sunk so low in a crevice so deep, we may no longer clamber out.

Yet maybe, just maybe we were designed as such, our innards strung in a way such that insensitivity, masochism such that self destruction is innate.

Maybe our every move has been choreographed, designed, preordained.

Maybe we have been manipulated, played around with, our little inconsequential limbs twiddled with, thrown around by forces beyond our control.

Maybe, narcicistic as we are, the world doesn't rotate around us, or about us, and we see what we are supposed to see, and thus respond as we are supposed to respond.

Concievably, our actions are not ours to make; our thought not ours to think, our love not ours to give.

Perhaps then, I am not wrong, to have succumbed to the oldest, most classic, and most envisioned teenage flaw.

Perhaps then, it isn't avoidable.

Pehaps then, it simply isn't my fault.

OK. I AM FULL OF BULLSHIT.