I've always found people who can admit they are wrong, admirable. It isn't about a single apology, or admitting your defeat in an argument. This is about the knowledge that you hold to yourself, the knowing of being on the wrong side of things. They don't try to justify themselves because they cannot change themselves. They don't intend to, because they've tried and they've failed. Their failure is sad, I'd say. I believe they find it sad too. They have an ingrained inability to conform, to change, to exist in the right. And any efforts to escape that part of themselves is futile.Although I never believed in seeing things in two dull shades of black and white, it seemed to me that I always lingered on the horizon of just these two shades. Perhaps because this is what I was always taught. Morals and ethics, laws and conforming to society, they were drilled into me right from the start. My father was a man like that, a strict, upright, unbending man. I always believed that my own stric

"So what business brought you two here again?", Doctor Ema asked in her gentle voice.We hadn't said anything about our business. At this point, I didn't intend to."Well, it's a rather long story but...let's just say it doesn't have anything to do with Shamballa. You do understand that we have nothing to do with any disturbances in town, don't you? We only came here yesterday...to Agartha, I mean.""Of course, I understand. Don't get so worked up about it.""Yes, well, if we're okay here, we'd like to leave. We don't want to cause anyone any more trouble", I replied.Her face shifted a bit under the dim light of the single flickering bulb."That's...well...", she looked away to her side.I waited for her to give a response, a proper one. Her calm and composure were suddenly making me anxious."I did tell you that people here don't trust outsiders, didn't I?", she paused for a short while, shifting her gaze toward us."You can't leave just like that, I'm afraid.""And why not?!", I wa

I'm not a fan of kindness. It sounds like a sad thing when I say this but people who go out of their way to be kind to me, always seem so far off. I think its better to be kind with a certain degree of aloofness. Perhaps you think, people like Chopper and Lady are just about the thing I'm talking about. But those people have a world of their own. They have no need for kindness, not for themselves and not for others. It seems to me that those of us that really live on the outside, the ones that aren't living at the edge, we are the ones that need something so paltry as kindness. My father was a kind man. Even though I was born without any magic, when the other kids made fun of me or left me behind in their games, he'd always come along to grab my hand. Even though I wasn't the youngest of my siblings, I was still the one that got piggy back rides from him. I'm sure he loved us all the same but I distinctly remember his adoration for me. My mother had little presence in our childhood.

"Oh, it's just you this time", her gentle smile was as refreshingly dull as ever, "Sorry, I didn't think I'll see you so soon.""It's nothing to be sorry about", I felt calm just being there. It was impossible to rest easy when every time we went out, we constantly needed to look over our shoulders. The hostility was growing everyday. It seems the villagers were being threatened by a hostile party. They were told not to sympathize or mingle with us. As a result, people had no choice but to turn their backs on us. No one wanted to be painted as a target and certainly, everyone must have been thinking it was our fault. If only we hadn't come to their land, their peace wouldn't have been destroyed.At home, I couldn't relax around Lubbock. Serena was nice enough to keep us company, though. Only in her company, did Miss Traveler ever say anything. Mills was feeling burdened too, even though he didn't show it. Neil, on the other hand, once came up to me and said brazenly that he was on o

Because my mother was such a wretched being, devoid of all joy, embittered through to the end, I cannot say I understand how Doctor Ema was feeling when I laid down Serena's now motionless body on the rickety bed in her little dark room. At least, that's what I would like to say, but that would be a lie. In truth, I believe that you need not experience everything to be able to understand it. I may never have tasted motherly affection but I wasn't completely ambiguous about Doctor's situation right now. Lubbock had followed close behind me. He stayed silent, and observed everything keenly."Not there, could you move her in here?", Doctor said as she opened the little door in her room which, I had assumed, led to a toilet.I promptly heeded her instruction and moved Serena where she wanted her. To my surprise, beyond that tiny wooden door that was about to come unhinged, rested a lab of some sort. In the center was a long stone table, where I lay Serena. This was her lab, and not a med