anavarro

So my work begins…

As far as my trip to this Island, it has been a vital piece to my development in this last week, and I will forever remember my time here.  I'm glad I've been able to experience this and I know I will come back and leave my own markings on Chronos one day.  Until then, I've decided to set sail.  I am taking no one with me; I have yet to find the man I've always loved, who is the only one that I would consider bringing with me.  Nonetheless, he'll know where to find me...if he exists at all.  And my voyage begins.

Forever yours,
Alexa

 As I said, there are so many moving parts that make up a man - his mind, his ideas, his actions, his achievements, his career...which all will eventually be affected by n.s.  We differ from our "closest relatives” greatly.  What if there isn't a missing link, like the "half monkey, half man" that has been thought of as the bridge between us and them?  What if the “missing link” is long gone, since man has the ability to continually evolve and are (well, some are) far from that picture of the cave men, which I believe could have been the cross over between monkey and man (Part 3+: biological evidence of cognition, which is more than likely myelin.  The cells, oligodendrocytes, being the thing to study in animals, if present.)   People are still able to act like cave men - look at tribes in remote parts of the rain forests.  They act very similar to what cave men must have been like*; but they have the ability, and always had the ability, to evolve.  That is the key.  When a child is placed in a setting of seclusion and doesn't receive any mental stimulation, something happens that is irreversible in most cases.  Place a monkey by itself and it still has the instincts to live and to survive.  But place a child by itself and by the time they reach the age of ten, they will be mentally retarded for the rest of their lives.  Place a child in a thriving, intellectual environment, and you will have the leaders of our species.  Genes, conditions and nature all play a role, although I'm not sure how much or to what extent just yet.  Natural Selection still occurs (as seen in this year’s pandemic and the numbers of deaths that continue to increase -- survival of the fittest.  Those with weak genes [autoimmune diseases, pre-existing conditions, etc.] are the only ones that are dying from this flu), but the way in which it occurs...that is changing.  Will man evolve into something else in a million years, or will out physical appearance be the final product?  Is the primitive man the “missing link”?  How much do genes have to do with this?  And the driving force, from a biological standpoint: myelin.  How much does this have to do with consciousness? 

My next steps are to finish studying the science of man, reading OPAR and pushing forward with that philosophy as my base.  I'm not a philosophy major, but from what I've studied so far, it is the most logical and scientifically based, as far as rules and laws are concerned.  Then, I will continue on and spend the rest of my life studying, researching, teaching, writing, and living science.  I'm twenty years old right now - in the next twenty years I plan to have books written and my own study of man and mind underway.  If anything else, educating a society that is so mystical in thought are my next steps.

But most importantly – how is this linked to Chronos? (Which is Part 4+).  My primary reason of developing a forth part was due to the whole concept of sleep.  Look at a baby, for instance.  A newborn sleeps about 75% of their day away for the first 4-5 months of their lives.  But in those 4-5 months, a baby teaches itself how to focus their eyes, how to eat, how to understand a language (which is the most fascinating), how to build their muscles in order to do the activities they see around them (holding their head up, sitting up, crawling, scooting, walking, running…).  Their minds are constantly building myelin and the more they do the same activity, the better they get at it, and the less they sleep.  Human development takes a drastic turn for the worse (in comparison to what they have achieved in the years preceding them) when a child hits around 7+ years, which I know is because of the school system our kids are put through.  The things that a child, adolescent and young adult achieves now-a-days is pathetic, to say the least.  There is no creative thought, no intellectual stimulation that is creating the right build up of myelin, and the seemingly decline of the human race starts to take effect.  Physical adaption  vs. mental creativity… if you can’t physically adapt to your environment, that species will no longer be able to reproduce strong offspring and will die out.  If a human cannot use the greatest thing that ever happened to them, then they will, by nature, die out as well.  But back to Chronos: I predict that there is a way to decrease the amount of sleep needed for a man to function by constantly using his mind throughout the day in a way that is stimulating, successful and productive.  Focus. That is the make or break throughout the day.  The more time you spend having to re-focus your attention on any given activity, the more energy you exert and the more your mind has to work on something that won’t eventually get easier to do, complete, learn, etc.  The more time and energy you can focus on building myelin in the right ways, the less time and energy you will spend in the long run because you will become more skillful at that task.  The cycle continues on…

October 18th, 2009

- I have a project I've decided is worth trying to pursue, and I'm wasting no time researching it.  It dawned on me early this morning, as I was about six thousand feet in the air.  And, even more, I've found a way to link Chronos to this new endeavor. 

*This is a premature articulation of the thoughts that are streaming through my head, but I'll try to articulate them in the best way possible so when I come back to Journal Entry #3, I can use it as a gage for my progress.  I have a lot of research to do and the things I explain as "a matter of fact" are, for right now, just theories in themselves.  I have much more to do before I can state the following paragraphs as proof.   

I've come to find that there are many moving parts associated with living as a human being.  With science as the foundation of everything, there is a way to figure out the truth behind life (meaning the scientific explanation, the philosophy that guides a man, whether or not he wants to exercise it is a different story) and the rules in which man are to follow in order to live that life.  Rules, meaning a system in which to follow, a set of laws, regulations.  There are natural laws, which state that man must eat, drink, breathe, sleep (which is a major waste of time as far as I'm concerned, but nonetheless), etc. in order to survive.  By nature, the man who doesn't breathe doesn't live.  Humans are the dominant animal and have been for millions of years; evolution has not stopped occurring, but I predict it has reached its peak with man.  We possess an ideal body type and the biggest advancement to date: cognition.  That is the key, the driving force: the ability to build myelin, which in turn builds skill, talent, ideas, buildings and motors.  This has changed natural selection as Darwin saw in the 1800's.  It changed n.s. with every cognitive revolution: The Enlightenment, the Industrial Revolution, and our rise in technology... every time man molds nature to fit his purpose, n.s. changes the way it runs its course.  Nature must follow its own rules, but when it (nature) is changed by a certain group, within certain boundaries, I think the way nature affects that group isn't as it once was. 

For instance, place a man in the desert and tell him to find his way out.  He is not built like the animals that live in those harsh conditions:  his skin will burn, he will lose water in the form of sweat, he will lose energy as time goes by, which will cause him to grow weak if he doesn’t replenish himself with food and water.  What happens internally is far worse and will eventually cost him his life if he doesn't use the only thing that can, and always will, help him survive and use it fast: his mind.  That is the key.  Now, place a water snake, a garden snake, or a python in the desert and you can predict the outcome- they would die with very little chance of escape.  Why is that, when some of the inhabitants of deserts are in fact species of snakes to begin with?  Those that inhabit the desert have been adapted to their environment over thousands, perhaps millions, of years and have the ability to blend in with their environment in order to catch any other species that live there, can go months* without water, and so on so forth.  (This is part one: Physical adaptation vs. mental creativity, which will be tied to evolution).  Placing a snake that thrives in the water would be an obvious disaster, but place a human being in the desert, with is another obvious disaster as far as traits are concerned, but now the odds of survival have increased greatly just because he is man.  This is, what I think, the prime example of our own evolution as a species. 
                  *Time lengths, species and habitat not researched before writing.

Now, using the same environment, let us place a baby in the place of a grown man…death.  Let us place a retarded adult in the place of the baby…death.  Let’s place a child in the place of the retarded adult, and then the story starts to change.  They are still dependant on being rescued, but they may find a way to prolong death by hours or days.  The example is the same in the rain forest, on an island, or in the city- only the man who has developed his mind will, and can, survive. (Part two, which will be tied to the philosophy of Objectivism)

So what are the things I've decided to pursue?

Some of my questions are the following: What niche have man begun to fill speaking in evolutionary terms?  We can go to any environment, with the proper equipment, and be able to not only survive, but in the cases where man has thrived against physical odds… underwater, by means of a submarine and oxygen tanks; cold, harsh conditions by means of insulation and fishing poles, etc.   These varying equipments only exist because someone created them, and someone created them only because they used their minds.  And the pattern continues: a man with the proper equipment can still die in any environment if 1) they use the equipment wrong, 2) they use the equipment poorly, or 3) they choose not to use it at all.  They can die in the middle of an ocean or in the middle of a city – Natural Selection will then work in the same way it always has.  But with each success or disaster the outcome stems from the same thing: the mind. 

1) What happens from here on out to Natural Selection when it is no longer working from the forces of nature? *as it once was
2) What does that mean for humans, and what does our evolution look like, from a biological stand point? *in comparison to other animals
3) Which laws and rules, in both nature and for man, are the irreducible primaries… the things that will never change? 

10/14/2009

I've become increasingly interested in Chronos over these last few days.  

I noticed little markings on the sides of the trunk that seem to tell a story - I think there have been others that reached this place before me.  I've come to realize that there is no way to change it or to store any piece of it, but I've figured out a way to save it.  And these markings, it's like these men before me each left a piece of the puzzle and it's all before me now.  Each time these men discovered something monumental, a branch was added to this magnificent tree; they all tie together to make up this immoveable mover.  With every invention, every discovery and new advancement this world has ever known, a piece of Chronos has been saved and is able to be used toward something else.  The tree itself cannot be moved, but it moves the rest of the world, and I'm able to see its beauty in the solitude I've wanted for so long.  The tree is healing, steady, and doesn’t wait for anybody.  It’s fascinating and I know I will always come back to this spot whenever I want to feel inspired.

As far as my other ventures go, I found that I was more drained than I had realized.  Physically drained; mentally, I haven’t been able to shut my mind off.  I’ve had to actively control the paths my thoughts have traveled down so I could try and get a complete thought and maybe reach a conclusion, which I know I will get better at; but nonetheless, I’m just enjoying this new evolution I’ve been going through.  But my time of fun is coming to an end and I need to pick a project and really close in on it until I’ve built something substantial; there is always time for leisure activities and adventures in-between everything else.

I will always resort back to this fundamental truth:  A is A.  I’m learning from the great men before me as I sit and study this place I’ve come across; eventually, I will move onto bigger things – at least I know how to steer the ship once I decide to set sail once more.  My time here may be shorter than I originally anticipated...

- Alexa

What a beautiful face I have found in this place

that is circling all round the sun

When we meet on a cloud I’ll be laughing out loud,

I’ll be laughing with everyone I see,

Can’t believe how strange it is to be anything at all.

So I come to you, again, Dear Journal – writing down these beautiful thoughts, documenting this place I’ve found in black ink, so I may look back and remember these great times, these hard times, and these amazing, beautiful places I have discovered. I’m the Captain, the Author, the Decorator, the Artist… and this is my ship, my piece of art, and my novel – so enjoy, as I know only you can.

My thoughts are screaming, and I’m surprised I haven’t made it here prior to this much needed visit. Where to begin…

October 9, 2009

I’ve reached what appears to be a deserted Island – coming from civilization this is quite the switch, but it is refreshing in its own right. I came across this place late last week, maybe a little sooner. I’ve spent some time exploring  and I’ve gotten accustomed to my new home. I don’t know how long I will be here, but I know I will return when I want to. I’ve decided to focus my mind on the task at hand, and my current endeavor is to study the science of what is. Reality, consciousness, thought… me. How these are all intertwined, as I believe they are. To understand the boundaries of reality so I can live in accordance with its laws, while in turn molding what I can to benefit and further better my life here, and when I decide to go back, if I ever decide to. 

I’ve come across this beautiful tree; it is different than all the others I have found on the Island. It’s intriguing, and I think it will keep my attention for quite a while. I’ve decided to name it Chronos.

Until next time,

Yours Truly- Alexa

I have had an overwhelming desire to climb a mountain and lay under the clear sunlight with nothing on.  I want to feel the sharp rocks under my bare feet, enjoying that pain mixed with the pleasure of what I will see in the distance:  Man conquering nature. 

The passion is unreal  These are the days of my rebirth - the years behind me, the chains I placed around my wings, and the emotional whirlwind that became my life... are all behind me.  Life has started for me - I finally fully get it.  I'm overwhelmed; the passion has returned.

I won't apologize for who I was or what I did.  I was wrong, and I know that now.  I won't keep looking back and feeling sorry for who I should have been.  It is over, and I have won.  Life is beautiful - the passion is incredible.

Non-contradiction:
"She sat on the edge of the earth, feeling the warm water underneath her sandy feet.  She had been there for hours contemplating life.  It was pointless, or so it seemed.  She would always resort back to the water; the view of tiny boats in the distance romanced her in a way."

Either-Or:
"The view from her window made the months behind her worth it.  Night was approaching, but she preferred to see the world around her in that way.  Tiny lights on the ground started to turn on, one by one; then a town in the distance radiated its light.”
 
A is A:
"She sat with one foot over the ledge, the other placed effortlessly underneath her thigh.   She glanced behind her – she had come a long way.  She turned back around and kept her eyes focused on something in the distance.”

The future belongs to me now.  I have earned it; it is rightfully mine.  

I have these thoughts, these amazing thoughts, of what life should be like. 

It's sunny outside, and I am in a house with beautiful windows.  The light that is shinning in is radiantly pure and it touches every surface of the house I helped build.  I am naked; I am free to do whatever I choose.  I take a walk by the river on the side of the house - I walk for hours.  There is music in the background, Halley's fifth, and I dance passionately through the garden that stretches out for miles. There is life all around me, and I’m free to create a masterpiece. I choose to paint a picture, something as beautiful as the place I live in. I paint what I see in the distance: my dearest working in the fields. We are alone, we have always been alone. I walk toward him, and then I start running at full speed.  I jump into his arms, and we both start laughing.  We laugh for hours about anything that amuses us.  And that is our life, full of the greatest purities and the deepest love imaginable. It belongs to us, for we have created it for ourselves.  We are the sole owners of our happiness - we are the sole owners of our lives.

The light is so pure as it touches every surface.

So little have escaped from the child buying markets.  I am one of them; this is my story:

”She played under the table while her mother cooked breakfast.  Her dad was gone on another business trip and her brother and sisters were away at camp.  She was alone, which meant no one would bother her.  She loved playing under the table - she would dream up games that could entertain her for hours.  The fresh summer air that floated in through the curtains captured her attention for a moment.  She found herself in a deep thought: What would she be today?  A princess?  A detective? Anything was possible.

The first day of school came with many emotions, but excitement conquered the others.  She sat on her dad's leather skinned boots while grasping onto his leg in order to get a feel for the place.  She spotted blocks in the corner and turned around minutes later to see her dad was no longer in the room.  In the years that followed she made crutical decisions regarding whether or not she should become a girl scout, a ballerina or a musician.  She choose all three.  Life was simple; life was beautiful.

Her parents divorce left her family in shambles.  She was ten years old when he walked out of her life, never once looking back.  The music stopped.  Her mother never explained to her what was happening until years later; but by then, she had already formulated her own conclusions.  The dancing stopped.  As her family started falling apart her mother turned to faith as the glue that would hold them together.  It was then she stopped dreaming altogether.

The innocence she had for those eleven short years was taken out of her with every tear shed in those middle school years.  Her love of life soon became a bitter resentment toward her reflection and a hatred for her family.  A greater fear than she had ever known was magnified during this time, so she balanced on the invisible line called Christianity and tried her hardest to be the good little girl that chased after God’s will.  She was told that this was the only way of life and to deny it meant an eternity of torture. The child buyers had started to lure her away from herself.

She sat in the doctor’s office trembling from the fever she couldn’t get rid of.  As he came into the room, holding her chart in his hand, he looked at her mother then directly into her eyes. She was sick now and that would become her identity for the next three years of high school. Her life was now a routine of confession and redemption; it had been years since she could remember what it was like to lead a carefree life. She was taught that sickness of this magnitude was an allowed attack from Satan, and just as Job never questioned God, neither should she. God wanted to bless her but there was something in the way. The confusion she was told not to sort through as a young girl slowly surfaced and she found herself at a crossroads a few years later.

She cried out one night, unsure of who she was or why she was feeling so much shame.  She had no one to look to; she was living in a morgue and she knew she would die along with the rest of them.  She looked all around her, desperately searching for any sign of life in that desolate place- then, in the distance, she saw a white light flickering.  She didn't know what it was or why it was there,  but she knew if she wanted to live she had to get to it.  It was truth."

This is what life was like in the child buying markets.  I had many friends in these camps; they have all since died.  They were thrown out in the streets to fend for themselves without any social skills or means to get proper help.  Instead of holding on to the last bit of their identity, they gave themselves away.  Some were too eager to let themselves go, while others fell only because they saw no other way out.

What happens to a child when they are told that this life is meaningless?  They start to see reality as nonexistent, absolutes as a subjective perspective and life as something that is worthless. The Comprochicos know this, therefore, the young becomes their pray.  The first thing we were taught was that one prayer said would guarntee an eternity in paradise; what we ended up doing was praying that prayer over and over again because we never really understood what we were doing.  We were never taught what morals were; we were only taught how to read a list of what was good and what was evil. We were never taught how to think; we were given an ultimatum and told that that was the meaning of life. They kept telling us how simple this all was, so in turn the confusion we faced showed a personal flaw of stupidity which needed to be hidden and would never be addressed. The child buyers formed our opinions for us: The world was evil, mankind was evil, and we were worthless.  We were their creation and served as tools in their plan to expand God’s kingdom. Some become remnants of Olympian gods, while others became unidentifiable. 

We were told how evil we were and that the damage around us was the direct result of human nature.  We learned that we were all damned to an eternal abyss. They stole the last remaining traces of hope we had, then they gave it back to us, only this time our hope would not be in ourselves. We were not to be held accountable for our actions any longer; human nature was to blame and human nature could be forgiven by blood shed. We were told to balance, blind folded, on a rope and were condemned to hell each time we fell. We were sinners, we were evil, we were mere humans, and we were nothing. We no longer had the freedom of choice; we were given a task that needed to be completed. We were told free will was the reason we were working off our debt, so to escape making more bad choices, the Comprochicos gave us a guideline to live our lives by, free of thought.  We each held gifts of the spirit that needed to be exercised and  we were all working for the greater good of each other, for the name of Christianity, and for God. We were Christians.

We were locked inside our own lives and each of us were trying to escape in our own methods. Some turned to mind numbing activities to dull the confusion that had become their reality, while others turned to physical pleasures to erase the pain felt deep inside. So few started to cut away at the chains placed around their wings, and some never made it out alive.  Those that stayed inside were released only when they were unrecognizable:only when they looked like the Child Buyers. These men were placed in political positions, they were given the power over our rights and they ran our country. They started their own village filled with people just like them, which expanded into a state, then later become a nation. They no longer held a sense of self;  they are now only images of the people that created them.

They took the last traces of creativity, love, honor and hope away from the world they were released in.  There wasn't sense in dreaming any longer.  Life became a lie.

I was able to witness few individuals who escaped from these camps.  They left before their minds were stunted and they we able to find others like them through the ruins.  Now they are living in the one place the Comprochicos haven’t invaded; it's a place so full of innocence and potential.  The Child Buyers are frantically searching for this place, the place that holds the children they didn’t steal. 

I am one of those children, now a grown woman living the carefree life they tried to take from me. They have no way of reaching me now, for I have become the very thing they fear: a self-made soul.

 I am free.

 Life is simple, life is beautiful.  

I used to think that history was nothing more than names on a paper or a war we had to learn about in class.  Now, as I am living in one of the most life changing times in America, I realize just how important history really is.  History has always been interesting but it finally became real this past week.  It is the most important thing we as a nation can learn from in order to continually better ourselves.   Man keeps on advancing forward; our current great rise in technology is proof of this.  Our government, however, has started to erase everything we have established as a nation over these past two centuries and is backtracking at a disastrous speed.  Although I am optimistic that I will die in a free nation, I fear that my descendants will not.  We have given a dangerous man the power over of this country without considering the consequences.  I didn’t think ignorance of this magnitude could ever become this prominent.  

I no longer look at the major events that have occurred inside our borders as a date; those events were a reality to millions of people and ultimately led to my current experience in America.  Our forefathers are not just faceless people whom which we study about; they are the sole reason our freedom exists today.  They sat in a room and discussed whether or not they should go through with the biggest revolution the world had ever seen.  I can only imagine what went through people’s minds: “The Great Experiment” trying to take over the greatest navy in the world without a well trained military or the means to recover if Europe destroyed them.  Our success was greater than just the freedom that has become our way of life; it allowed us to make a name for ourselves – a name that was like none other.  They were real men with brave, incredible ideas.

In that time, honor was still a virtue and not just a word, education was a means to a better life and not just a letter grade, and men understood the magnitude of what their current decisions would mean for the future of their country.  For the first time in my life I know what it means to be a proud American: it goes beyond shedding tears when something unimaginable happens and it means more than just calling yourself a name given to you at birth.  It’s fighting for your rights given to you as man, both overseas and inside our borders if need be, because you have a right to live and no one else should have a hold on that life.  It’s taking advantage of what we fought for and exercising that unmatchable freedom to think, produce, work, study, and to live.  

America is the greatest country in the world - this is the only country that allows man to live up to his full potential without the chains of governmental “intervention”.  America has the potential of reaching an ideal state; once that is gone, it is gone forever.

"Men cannot imprison, or chain, or hang the soul." 

Another realization comes to pass; another lesson learned.  These past few months have held some of the most uplifting moments in my life, and I am a better person because of it.  Little things I knew all along have finally sunk in and hit home - this is so liberating. 

Looking over my past entries, I noticed I always use the word "battle" to describe the times in my life that caused me to re-think an action or even a past thought.  That word alluded to more than I knew at the time.  I would think about something in my life, something I didn't like or wanted to perfect, then my old thought process would get in the way, or I would make some pointless excuse and go back and forth despite my better judgment.  I usually went from A to B, but I took unnecessary roads and experienced unneeded stresses.  Fixing the areas that are a little weak in my foundation should be fun and liberating, not stressful and looked at as a battle that I may or may not come out alive from.  I have the ability to continually better myself, and I have decided to take on that opportunity and rock it.  I want to be the kind of person that is so in love with life and is passionate about living it.  Everything else falls into place after that.

“Any spare change, lady?"
The sound of the cheap bell hitting the tin can jolted her back to reality.  The poorly decorated sign read "God blesses those who give to the less fortunate."  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill and thirty-seven cents in change.  The sound of coins hitting the bottom of the can was followed by a bitter thank you from the bum in charge of operations.  She stood watching him, unaware of time or that it had started to rain.  She lighted a cigarette, placed a cold hand into the pocket of her coat, and continued on her way.  
She adjusted the hat that covered her dark brown hair and looked over her collar at a building covered in Christmas lights.  "Watch it, will ya?" (church bells?)  She looked at her watch; it was twelve twenty.  It would be miles before she reached the train station.  She felt the dollar bill in her pocket and flagged down one of the many cabs flooding the streets of New York.
"Where to, lady?" the cab driver asked indifferently.
“The University, please." Kate Valdez answered back with the same indifference.

Kate Valdez stood looking at the Broad Street University for a moment; the building was a historical site now.  The stones were worn and the style was outdated, but the prestige that came out of those double gated doors couldn't be denied.  Great men had risen from this building and she was on her way up to erase the last traces of one of them.  The door on the 2nd floor read: "Antonio Valdez, Vice President." It took her a moment to grab the door handle, then she went inside.  The room didn't seem very different than she last remembered: his certificates from the Physics Board of World Studies (??) were framed on the wall and their picture was still on his desk; the corner coat hanger was still occupied by his favorite suit jacket.  Kate Valdez walked around to the side of the desk and looked out the window.  The rain started to pick up and it took her a while to focus on the task at hand.  She pulled his chair around and sat down, noticing one last cardboard box waiting on the floor.  Kate Valdez started to clean out her grandfather's desk, filling the box with old papers and some supplies.  She grabbed the framed picture and cleared the dust from their faces.  Kate Valdez hadn't cried at his funeral and she couldn't bring herself to do it now.  She held the picture in her steady hands.  Before the glass spread across the carpet there was a knock at the door. 
"Miss, is everything ok?" Mr. Valdez's secretary, Susan Waters, asked through a cracked door.
"I'm almost done.  Just a few more supplies and I'll be on my way."
"Take your time, Miss Valdez.  You know you are always welcome here." Susan Waters turned and shut the door quietly. 
Kate Valdez walked toward the door and glanced near the coat hanger.  She placed the box on the floor and extended her hand toward the jacket.  She let the rough fabric graze the side of her cheek.  It still smelt of tobacco and peppermint.  She remembered what he had looked like in that jacket only two weeks earlier.   She appeared out of the vacant office a short time later.
"Susan, can I leave his stuff here while I go to class?" Kate Valdez asked, walking toward the door.  "Certainly, dear.  You know you didn't have to come in so soon after... you know, it all happened.  I could have done it for you."  Kate Valdez was already on her way out of The Dean's Headquarters when Susan looked up from her desk.
                                                                     *
"... remember, class, history has little to do with the present moment.  History is in the past, and we are merely studying it.  Mr. Bryan, this comment is directed to you.  I don't want to hear your thoughts on governmental intervention.  We aren't in debate class and it would suit you to keep your opinions out of this classroom.  Oh, Miss Valdez, it is so nice to see you joining us today.  Not on time, I see.  Please find a seat.  We were just discussing the Great Depression." 
                                                                    *

Kate Valdez walked up the steps to her apartment door on Oak Street.  She threw her keys on the side table and set the wet cardboard box on the floor next to the sofa.  [Kate Valdez walked toward her kitchen window and opened it, allowing the rain to beat down on her chest.  She laughed a bit, mostly at her behavior these last few days and partly because she enjoyed the cold sensation the rain brought. (Awk).]  She held her hands on the window for a moment, laughed again, then locked it.  Kate Valdez started toward her bedroom when she heard a knock at the door.
"Who is it?"
"Who do you think it is, open the door it's raining hard out here."
"Oh, Rush, I forgot you were coming."  Kate Valdez opened the door and saw Rush Mychals standing there, drenched, wearing his basketball uniform.
" Yeah, like how you forgot to come to my game?"  Rush Mychals brushed by Kate.  He looked her up and down and added, "Don't tell me you just got home.  Where have you been?"
" I got lost."  Kate Valdez said as she started toward her bedroom.
"That's all you ever do now is joke.  Take something seriously, will you?  Where were you?" Rush Mychals followed her to her room.  Kate had started to get out of her wet clothes when Rush asked her again, this time with a little more authority.  After a while she looked up at Rush and said indifferently, "I went for a walk." She rubbed her hair with a towel and started back toward the hallway.
"It's late Rush, I'll see you tomorrow."
"You can't be serious, I haven't seen you all week." Rush Mychals pushed his wet, blond hair out of his eyes as if that would help him understand the fragile girl standing in front of him.  Kate Valdez opened the door and waited until Rush Mychals stepped back into the rain.  He jolted back around to face Kate and, pointing a finger at her, added, "....." She locked the door behind him.  She was finally alone.

Kate Valdez used to spend every summer at her grandparents house in New York.  Her parents would travel back home to (?).  Kate loved spending time with her grandparents; they lived by the Hudson River and Kate would sneek out [ I don't see this scene completely yet.]

There are many ways to cope with life outside of paradise, and I have merely taken on one of them.  Some seclude themselves in their rooms while others go as far as picking up a counterfeit identity in order to live among the rest of them.  I can't deny what I want, so, I have taken on a different approach.  I have never felt as alone as I do when I am surrounded by the multitudes of people I face daily, so I plan to place myself directly in the center of the morgue.  I can't pretend I'm something that I'm not.  It has never been easy for me to lie to anyone, much less myself.  Life is so simple and I'm not about to complicate things.  
 
There is a difference between living and living among something un-definable.  I can't explain it just yet; it's almost like something was eliminating them before they even had a chance to fight against it.  The battles I fought to get where I am now seemed too unrealistic at times-they shouldn't have had to take place, and that is the undefined force so many have lost against.  I know what it is like to grow up in a home and environment that was broken from the start.  I have felt the side effects of a dangerous religion jammed down an innocent throat and I have witnessed the attempts from those trying to end that life lived in vain because of these things.  The struggle is real and the pain is evident... but it was the path they chose and the result was logical.  What I have yet to figure out is if their end was just.

The domino set has been stretching on for centuries, and with only a handful of exceptions, the rest are predicted to fall.  Atlas may eventually shrug and they, then, will be left to fend for themselves - but I want to witness those exceptions rising from the battlefield; I don't want to scavenge through the ruins.  Instead of resorting back to Atlantis, as I have in the past, I will place myself in the middle of this desolate place and bring back with me those who chose to live.  I am not trying to be John Galt - I am trying to stop him from having to shrug at all.

This is the life I have claimed and I will do everything in my power to keep it.  I'm not about to take the stand of a savior, or even a teacher, but that of a child.  I will question their motives, their thought process and their actions just as a child would.  If there is any fault in the above, I can only hope they would recognize it in their explanation to me.  If not, the dead will, and should, remain that way.  I love the characters in Ayn Rand's novels, and if those men are out there, I'm going to find them.