Joyeux Noel

Psalm 4
1Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness!
You have relieved me in my distress;
Be gracious to me and hear my prayer.
2 O sons of men, how long will my honor become a reproach?
How long will you love what is worthless and aim at deception? Selah.
3But know that the LORD has set apart the godly man for Himself;
The LORD hears when I call to Him.
4Tremble, and do not sin;
Meditate in your heart upon your bed, and be still. Selah.
5Offer the sacrifices of righteousness,
And trust in the LORD.
6Many are saying, "Who will show us any good?"
Lift up the light of Your countenance upon us, O LORD!
7You have put gladness in my heart,
More than when their grain and new wine abound.
8In peace I will both lie down and sleep,
For You alone, O LORD, make me to dwell in safety.

I just finished my second annual Christmas Eve tradition of staying up far too late watching a movie. This year it was a film called Joyeux Noel (French for Merry Christmas). It is an incredibly powerful, semi-fictional account of the historical events of Christmas Eve, 1914, when the Scottish, French, and German lines called a cease-fire and fraternized with each other for that entire night and the day of Christmas following. Ten minutes into the film, I wanted to cry. When I realized I was only halfway through the film, I almost stopped watching. When I finished the film, I did cry. The stupidity of war (particular the so-called "Great War") and the pain and suffering and separation that comes with it was countered so perfectly by the undying hope and love that is shared globally on Christmas as shown in Joyeux Noel, and I could not help but to be reminded the whole way through the movie of my blessedness to be free from such death and despair both literally and spiritually.

Psalm 4 is a distress signal, a white flag raised in the hopes of grace. It is a plea for the waiting to end and the punishment of our trespasses to rain down, and it is a curse on those who have harmed us, as well. It reminds us to fear the Lord and to walk in His statutes. It asks that question on the back of everyone's mind: Who will show us any good? Is humanity even capable of good?

On Christmas we celebrate the answer to Psalm 4. Two millennium ago, the very Son of God was born as a human baby. He did not come to smite the wicked. He did not come to reward the righteous. He did not come to bring peace to the world. He did not come to do anything special in the minds of men. He came merely to live and to die. But He came to do so perfectly. In His perfect life and perfect death, that God who took on the imperfection of human flesh did something no human could: He provided a way back to His arms. It is there that we will find peace. It is there that we will find grace. It is there that suffering is turned to joy and there that death dies. It is there that we find the true meaning of love. It is there, in the arms of God, that we find out what goodness is.

It began on that first Christmas.
Joyeux Noel.

-Nic

Selah

Psalm 3
1O LORD, how my adversaries have increased!
Many are rising up against me.
2Many are saying of my soul,
"There is no deliverance for him in God." Selah.
3But You, O LORD, are a shield about me,
My glory, and the One who lifts my head.
4I was crying to the LORD with my voice,
And He answered me from His holy mountain. Selah.
5I lay down and slept;
I awoke, for the LORD sustains me.
6I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people
Who have set themselves against me round about.
7Arise, O LORD; save me, O my God!
For You have smitten all my enemies on the cheek;
You have shattered the teeth of the wicked.
8Salvation belongs to the LORD;
Your blessing be upon Your people! Selah.

The Lord will be faithful to save.
David wrote this psalm as the outpouring of a broken heart. His son Absalom, was attempting to usurp the throne. Not only did this mean that one of his favorite sons was trying to kill him, but the country was being torn apart as a result. It was a dark time for David. Feeling friendless, hopeless, and surrounded by enemies, he turned to the only one that had never failed his trust. Countless times, God had been there in his neediest hours, always providing a hand of protection and of comfort. David was far from being a perfect man, but he always knew where to turn to when he screwed up or the world seemed to conspire against him. He knew that the Lord would provide for him in this situation, as well.
The Lord is faithful to save.
I do not have a family member trying to kill me. In fact there is no one I know that I am not on at least civil terms with currently. But sometimes it still feels like I am friendless, hopeless, and surrounded by enemies. It just happens to be an internal conflict, and I am fighting the seemingly insurmountable issues of my own making. Despite my generally happy personality, I have found more and more often that the weight of guilt coupled with my stubbornness have led me down a sad, broken road of emotional turmoil that is so foreign to my character, but that I have gotten all too used to. But I know where to turn to for salvation. I know that God is just waiting for me to stop avoiding Him and stumble towards Him instead. I just pray that I can man up and have the guts that David did to do so over and over.
The Lord has faithfully saved.
In reading Psalm 3 you might perhaps notice an interesting aspect of some of the language David uses. If you look at verses 4 and 7 in particular, you can see that those statements are written in past tense: "You have answered me," "You have smitten all my enemies." It is an immense comfort to be reminded of the Lord's prescience and prior actions. He is not only sure to be there when we need Him most. He is also there laying the foundations for our salvation before we even realize we need it. There is no digging a hole to deep for God to reach down and pull me out of, for he has been right next to me the entire time.
I know that I will face many more trials in my life. I know that many of them will be of my own making. And I know that they will lead to some dark times for me. But I know three other things, as well.
I know that my God has already saved me. I know that my God is currently saving me. And I know that my God has prepared my future salvation.
Selah.

In good hands,
Nic

Without Further Ado

So here I am finally putting up my thoughts on Psalm 2. Yes, it's been just over a month since the first chapter. Let it be known that it's been a crazy month. And, as is likely quite apparent, I have a lot to work on. So without further ado I give to you: Psalm 2.

1Why are the nations in an uproar
And the peoples devising a vain thing?
2The kings of the earth take their stand
And the rulers take counsel together
Against the LORD and against His Anointed, saying,
3"Let us tear their fetters apart
And cast away their cords from us!"
4He who sits in the heavens laughs,
The Lord scoffs at them.
5Then He will speak to them in His anger
And terrify them in His fury, saying,
6"But as for Me, I have installed My King
Upon Zion, My holy mountain."
7"I will surely tell of the decree of the LORD:
He said to Me, 'You are My Son,
Today I have begotten You.
8'Ask of Me, and I will surely give the nations as Your inheritance,
And the very ends of the earth as Your possession.
9'You shall break them with a rod of iron,
You shall shatter them like earthenware.'"
10Now therefore, O kings, show discernment;
Take warning, O judges of the earth.
11Worship the LORD with reverence
And rejoice with trembling.
12Do homage to the Son, that He not become angry, and you perish in the way,
For His wrath may soon be kindled
How blessed are all who take refuge in Him!

It's kinda funny how accurately Scripture can speak to the heart. I've been a perfect model of those kings and leaders, trying to wrestle the issues of my world into my own hands, misusing my weaknesses and ignoring my strengths. Worst of all, as the kings of old, I have relied on the counsel of my own meager wisdom and insight, packing God away in a neat little box to take out again when I have everything under control. A problem with this strategy arose early on, however, as I saw the fires of life burning more and more, and my control slipping further away from me the more effort I put into maintaining it. And the arousal of other great beasts not even entirely of my own making (notably the totalling of my car) certainly added another level to the chaotic frenzy that I had not planned on. But, being the stubbern mess that I am, I refused to turn away from the immenent cliff, but charged on in my not-so-blind rage "Against the LORD and against His Anointed, saying, 'Let us tear their fetters apart And cast away their cords from us!'"(v.3) But I was finding it more and more difficult to run away from the consequences of my actions: the feared wrath and scoffing of verses 4 and 5. I was starting to lose hope in a pretty serious way, rapidly aproaching the point of just giving up entirely on being of any worth.

But Psalm 2 does not end with God meting out His righteous (and most deserved) justice on the kings. He instead continues beyond that point, giving not just a warning to change their ways, but encouragement and hope. The very last phrase of the psalm: "How blessed are all who take refuge in Him!"(v.12) shows beyond the shadow of doubt that there is forgiveness for those who return to Him, and even more that there is safety and comfort in His light.
Thankfully my story has not yet ended with me going off that cliff. A couple of nights ago, as I was trying to forget my pain in my pillow, the realization hit me: there is nothing to be afraid of. There is no fall to far to be raised back up from. There is no sin that can mar a life to the extent that it can no longer be used by God. I cannot begin to describe the waves of joy that crashed over me as those thoughts zipped through my consciousness, so I won't try. I must say that I felt not a little foolish, as well, at my idea that I could somehow screw up God's purpose for my life because of my folly.

I know that I will do terrible things in the future. I know that I will miss out on great opportunities as a result of my failure to follow God. But I also know that while my path changes constantly, I will most assuredly still end up at the final destination that was mine from the founding of the world. So I will hold on to that hope that remains firm, knowing that the sorrows and joys of life will only positively impact the end. After all, it's the build up that makes the grand finale.

Bursting forth,
Nic

Further up and further in!

Heya! So as part of a plan to help bolster both my Scriptural knowledge and my personal spiritual life as a whole, I've decided to keep a journal (or something of the sort) of my thoughts on what I read in my devotions. The plan is for me to read a chapter a day and record my questions and discoveries I stumble upon on the way. Some posts might ramble aimlessly on for pages. Others might only be one or two sentences. One or two might be intelligent. Some might be inspired or even inspiring. Most will probably be quite the opposite. But hopefully every post will help you and I to grow just a little bit closer to the Father who holds our lives in His hands. I encourage you to join me as I embark on this venture through realms both familiar and un!

Being one of my favorite books of the Bible, and also one that I think we'll find surprising depth residing in unforeseen nooks, I have chosen to begin my venture with a journey through the Psalms. So without further ado: Psalm 1.

1How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor stand in the path of sinners,
Nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
2But his delight is in the law of the LORD,
And in His law he meditates day and night.
3He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,
Which yields its fruit in its season
And its leaf does not wither;
And in whatever he does, he prospers.
4The wicked are not so,
But they are like chaff which the wind drives away.
5Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
6For the LORD knows the way of the righteous,
But the way of the wicked will perish.
(Taken from the NASB)

Well, I've got to say that precious few passages could be more uplifting to start out this project than one that encourages us to meditate on and delight in God's Word. It's a bit ironic actually. For not a short while now I've been very much slacking in spending time even reading Scripture, much less taking it to heart and applying it. Then, after coming up with the idea of carrying out this project to help recover from said malady and despite being exuberantly excited about it, I still put it off for a good couple of weeks before you now find me writing this entry. So having the first thing I read end up being what it was is somewhat humorous to me. Having previously run into God's sense of humor on multiple occasions, something like this was not entirely unexpected. I was merely anticipating more of the berating, tongue-in-cheek kind of sly reminder as to my obvious lack of dedication in pursuing Him. Instead I am confronted by a double-whammy of the psalmist's intense joy he obviously finds in imparting God's wisdom and the encouraging promise of the joy the receiver will find on his journey. My warm-fuzzy feeling is then toned into resolution to never revert back to the state illustrated in the second half of the passage. My dogged pursuit of living by my own power, attempting to drag myself by my bootstraps has left me feeling lost, confused, and desperate for what I was running from for some time now. The words of Psalm 1 are truly an encouraging and emboldening war cry for me to rediscover myself and my relationship with my Creator and press forward to the fray! I hope that even an echo of that cheer has found its way to your ears, as well.

Struggling to be who I am,
Nic

June 12, 1930.

My life is all just a screwy nightmare. You know: the kind where you can’t really tell if you’re awake or not, you have no clue what’s going on and you can’t help but move in slow motion. The kind where you feel like you’re drowning in the air; going blind in broad daylight. But it’s not because I grew up in the streets after my parents were blown to bits before the war even truly started. My childhood was probably about as great as someone could ask for. What a “privileged” adult would look away from with tears was just a crazy, exciting adventure to a kid. No, I used to love life. Back when I had purpose. Back when I had hope. But isn’t that how fate works? You dream you’re in a tropical paradise only to wake up and find out you’re swimming in muck.

My head is killing me.

The sunset never fails to take my breath away. Even when I’m as depressed as now. Something about how the colors are so lush, yet remain intensely vibrant despite being cast by the light of a sinking sun has always resonated with me. Maybe because it reminds me of the way my own heart is setting. Or maybe because somehow, someway, it sparks a little ember in me that knows that even though I’ve destroyed my life so far, maybe, just maybe I can make the rest of it worthwhile.

But that’s just words. Just something that Evalyn said. Something that I wish could be true. Appropriate. That is what her name means after all: desire. I desire to live. I want to love. I wish that I could hope. But those words have no true meaning for me.

She told me she would save me. She can’t. I no longer have a soul to save. I wonder if I ever did.

Existence

To love and not be loved:
Is there any worse pain?
I cry your tears
I’m scared of your fears
Your smile is my laugh
Your anger is my wrath
When you’re sleeping I am dreaming
When you’re confused I know your meaning
My heart is jumping to yours
I have no breath but yours

But I am just a shadow;
I do not exist.

Yet you bring my life hope
You brighten every day
I cannot fear when you are near
And when you’re far you’re a guiding star
The smile in your eyes destroys all darkness with its light
The radiance of your beauty makes all doubts irrelevant
I have no regrets

Unrequited love is love nonetheless.

Life has been called a river, a journey, a road which everyone must follow in their own way. And one of the commonly phrased concepts about all three is that they are never straight for long. Every time that I think I know what lies ahead, a new turn or hill completely rattles around my perspective once again. And I don't believe that my life will ever be without those intermittent moments hitting me every now and then. To tell the truth, I don't think I want them to stay away from me. It's true I always come out of those times rather shaken up: confused, scared, lonely. But I also always come away with a new resolution for moving forward and pursuing the person I know God made me to be. I know I would be a very immature, stale little boy without those moments. They make me feel as if I've been reborn every time. I love that. I'm very grateful for it. I sometimes even find myself wishing to have such a moment descend on me. And it usually does. I can't imagine a worse life than never having them force progression on me.
But they still hurt.
Because I'm such an outspoken and arrogant person, seemingly brimming with confidence, something I think very few people recognize in me is my insecurity. Truthfully, I'm not sure if anyone at all understands how heavy it weighs on me. Each and every action of mine is affected by it one way or another. I spend so much thought and effort into getting people to notice I exist that it's really quite pitiful. And I just want to laugh when I catch myself at it. But I can't. Being in love with someone infinitely out of your reach certainly doesn't help anything either. I get so frustrated with myself sometimes, with the way I lie and live on. But I have no way to express it all deeply enough, no trigger for release. So I bottle up all my emotions and hide them, always returning to my happy-go-lucky facade. It's sobering when you claim that your entire life's purpose is to bring glory and honor to the One who rightly deserves it all, but then realize that you're not even trusting Him to play fairly with your emotions, much less fix your problems and take care of your life.
I'm a walking oxymoron. I cannot place my confidence in myself. And yet I refuse to wholly give in to the only One who can.
And so here I am again, knowing that I can't remain who I am, knowing that maturity is coming whether I want it or not, whether I'm ready for it or not. But I'm too stubborn, too frightened to take that needed step forward. It's kind of ironic that a self-proclaimed daredevil struggles so much with a simple leap of faith.
I know that God will use me in spite all of my deficiencies and failures. I know that He cares for and blesses His children beyond where our imaginations can take us. I know that life will always be better because of His influence. But I desperately hope that I don't settle for better. Despite the pain, regardless of who goes down the same road with me, I hope that I struggle on for what is best.

-Nic

Enough

This is a song I wrote on the plane back from Turkey. It turned out fairly well I think. (Now I just have to figure out the music to go with it...Yikes.)

How deep is my love for you?

The bottom was missing from the start

How wide is too far to cross to you?

You always stay close to my heart.

You make me think I’m dead

This is too heavenly

You make me scared to live

I am so undeserving

How purely am I yours?

My fragile heart has only one key.

How long will my love go on?

Eternity cannot measure infinity.

You make me think I’m dying

I cannot catch my breath

You make me know I’m living

My heart beats too fast to be caught by death

How strong is my love for you?

Fear and death will find me standing firm.

How do I envision you?

You ignite my world and I spin and I learn.

You’re the light that stays on through my night

You’re the fire in me burning

Keeps my heart churning

Yearning forever for you

You hold on to the very essence of me

Then do I love you enough to let you go free?

Copyright 2010, White Water.

Because being unoriginal in expressing love is just lame.

Didanillyazelli (But you can call it Denizili)

Bright and early Friday Morning:
The start of a great adventure. Forget the daytripping. Enough with the walkabouts. This was a full four day trek across Turkey.
We were all headed to visit with some friends and fellow workers in a smaller city about four hours inland that goes by the name of Denizili, where we would be staying for the weekend. But this was also a perfect chance to get the remaining churches from Revelation under my belt.

Stop One:
Sardis was a two-part mini-adventure in itself. The first place was nestled in a part of the mountains, full of open fields and massive pillars, not to mention a spectacular view. I dragged Isaac all over with me as I stopped to take pictures willy-nilly and listen to a huge chorus of bullfrogs in a tiny pond. The next part looked to be quite impressive, as it consisted almost entirely of a ginourmous gymnasium. But then my sight promptly left me as some sort of bug decided to taste the inside of my eyelid and refused to leave. (I finally got it out in a bathroom that night, and let me tell you: it was HUGE.) That definitely put a damper on Sardis, but it was still pretty awe-inspiring.
Stop Two:
Philadelphia left me with very little to write about. It was a fenced off area of maybe 20 or 30 square meters. Maybe less. It consisted entirely of two hulks of pillars that were not really pillars at all. More than likely they were just main supports of the building. They were made of brick-like slabs and probably only turned into pillars as a result of everything else around them having fallen. And that was that.
Stop Three:
Laodicea was significantly more impressive! There wasn't much of a restoration, so everything was very grassy and rubbly. But it was so expansive as to make up for it. Uncle Alan walked around with Isaac and I this time, and we spent multiple hours wandering over the rocks. There were two fairly large amphitheaters and some kind of sports arena that was really interesting, as well. And there was one jumble of...stuff (brick? rock? mud? it looked rather like a termite hill) that showed the piping system in a way that blows your mind about how advanced their technology was. But we needed to keep moving. So on we go!
Home Base:
Denizili was a much smaller city than Izmir (maybe 300,000), but just as (if not more) beautiful. It was right against the base of the mountains. And they were real mountains. Snow-capped and everything. Simply gorgeous. There we met up with some friends of the family. They were a lot of fun, and I laughed quite a bit around them during that weekend. They also happened to be the parents of someone who had been on my dorm during my freshman year, which made things even more homey feeling. Isaac and I didn't end up staying with them however. We got volunteered (read strongly encouraged/kicked out) to go spend the trio of nights a block away in another friend's apartment. He was a 20-something short-termer, and we clicked with him immediately. And so we hung out with their group during the weekend, having a swell time that was uneventful except for one day which I shall proceed to mention in the next paragraph. Bear with me.
Pamukkale (perhaps better known as Hierapolis) is a very popular resort and attraction right outside of Denizili, and so Uncle Alan, Isaac, and I took a day out to visit it (Aunt Sandy went shopping with her friend). It had some pretty awesome ruins and public hot springs. The main part of the ruins that we saw were actually tombs. Rows upon rows of tombs. It just went on and on, some even stacked on top of each other. It was pretty neat, actually. Then we swam for a while in the hot springs which was a lot less hot than expected but a lot more fun. The pool area that they had created was full of old pillars and stones, so we were swimming amongst and above ruins. We also held a competition between the three of us to see who could hold their breath under water the longest (I won with a little over a minute and a half).
(p.s. Never, ever let that water get in your eyes if you can, it hurt like crazy!!)
The Return Journey:
Monday morning we said farewell to the whole group in Denizili and headed back to Izmir via Ephesus. And very few things indeed can compare to Ephesus. It was unmatched in the expanse and quality with which the area was restored. I can't describe most of it very well, so look at the pictures on Facebook. Let it just be said that it felt like walking through an entire little town (populated by tourists instead of Romans). And the amphitheater there was most impressive of all. It was beyond ridiculous in size, and had been restored so nicely that shows are actually held there at times. (I couldn't resist and attempted to do an impromptu monologue there myself, but I had nothing prepared and too many tourist groups kept coming through, so it was kind of lame.) But Ephesus truly was a wonder.
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jog:
The only other thing of note on the trip back was where we stopped to eat lunch. It was a random little restaurant out in the middle of nowhere (I have no clue how the Whites managed to come across it before). You sit in tents instead of a building, with lots of thick carpets instead of floors, and all sorts of amazing things of authenticity hanging from the support beams. The food was made fresh completely from scratch (much was grown in their own gardens), which meant that it took a while to be made, but was incredibly delicious, as well (possibly the best I've had in Turkey so far). And then we were home. Well, actually, then we went to Ephesus, then we were home, but who cares about order, right? Bring on the chaos, I say! Up with Anarchy (that I rule)!!

And so carry on then my slaves...er, friends! Until I put finger to keyboard again,
-Nic

Walkabouts

Turkey...
The Next Three Days...
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday...

Tuesday:
Isaac and I took a serious walkabout around Izmir. Aunt Sandy had suggested multiple sites around the city for us to hit up, so we took the whole day out to do just that. We walked almost literally all over Izmir (though we did cheat and take the bus some, and we also...but I'm getting ahead of myself). We started by mozying (in every sense of the word) through Goztepe park (a nice area not far from our house) towards the harbor, via the Awesome Elevator. This AE happened to be a random elevator that transports people up and down the cliff side of Izmir. It wasn't necessarily a spectacular elevator (though it did have a good view of the bay), it was just quaintly interesting to have such a thing stuck to the side of a hill. But we moved on from there without spending too much time dawdling, so I should do the same here. We hit up the bay (though not literally, as the water seems to have a reputation for being incredibly disgusting...), got some pictures of a cool clock tower, and moved on to one of the better known shopping districts in Izmir (which I have forgotten the name of). Despite some tempting finds, I decided to side (for once) with my better judgment and made very few purchases there (read zero)... at least this time. And then the fun really started. We stopped to eat lunch at this cool little restaurant that had all the employees dressed up in traditional (old fashioned) Turkish garbs and had really good food. Isaac asked for the "receipt" instead of the "bill" (in Turkish of course) and was kicking himself the rest of the day for it (I just kept laughing). And we walked. We walked and walked. And walked some more. We ended up walking the entire distance to the ferry (which are always fun; the sea spray and wind in your hair and all that) which we took across the bay, then walked (and bussed a little, sorry to admit; though it was only because we started walking the wrong direction...) to the next ferry and took it back across. Such fun! (I really do get a kick out of water travel.) From there we wandered by means of our feet and buses (still) in a very roundabout way to finally arrive back home after a full day.
(p.s. I had major stomach cramps the entire time, which most definitely alleviated the fun, but could not destroy it, hahaha!)

Wednesday:
The whole family took a short trip driving around Izmir, seeing the sites. We saw a pretty cool ruined castle of Roman make which was named "velvet" (no clue why), and wandered around in that for a bit. Then we drove on to a different little area that was being excavated. From ground level, it really didn't look like much, but then you go underneath the row of arches sticking up and there was a whole expanse of rooms that were simply beautiful. And then it was home and chilling for the rest of the day. Good stuff.
(p.s. I definitely have a good collection of poop stories. Probably not a good thing, but, you know. I can't exactly help it... But anyway, I discovered on Wed. what was troubling my stomach so much while walking around the day prior, and quite by accident. My tum had never really stopped hurting, and I had been passing a lot of gas, kind of as a side effect. And as I was doing thus, standing on top of the castle with a wondrous view of the city and bay...a little more than air came out. I beat a hasty retreat to the nearest restroom and did not come out for a while. (My underwear did not exit with me.) I hit up the toilets three or four other times that day. But you probably don't need to hear anymore. So we move on.)

Thursday:
Thursday was a very relaxing day. It was possibly the first day of the trip (or at least in a goodly while) that we didn't have sightseeing plans. (It was also my first day without stomach issues in multiple days, which was wondrous indeed.) And so Isaac and myself met up with one of our friends and tore up the bowling alley (in my case almost literally; I chipped the ball twice...). We then proceeded to the mall next to the alley for a completely pointless, but still fun time doing nothing there. Then we capped it off by all heading back to our house and watching Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events (Jim Carrey cracks me up so much in that movie). Good times.

And so I must leave you until my next post (which will be started in just a couple of minutes, actually).
-Nic


p.s. That post was written over a five day period... Yikes!

The Awesomest Pile of Rocks Ever

Whew, I'm starting to get behind on these blog postings! Time to try to catch up a bit. So, Monday.

Monday, the whole troupe (Uncle Alan, Aunt Sandy, Isaac, and myself) took a day trip to some of the (slightly) more distant places of Turkey; namely Thyatira and Pergamum (modern day Akhisar and Pergamon, respectively), two of the seven church locations from the book of Revelation. And I'll say right of the bat, I don't expect any of the other daytrips to even have a chance of topping this one.

We left around 10 on Monday morning and headed first to Akhisar, a little less than two hours away. It was a nice little town with a walking mall very reminiscent to the one in Winchester (albeit much smaller, as was the city itself). There the ruins of what many scholars believe to be a church building (one may or may not think it to have been the meeting place of the Thyatiran church) was hidden away by a large metal fence. After paying the fee to get in, Isaac and I climbed all over them, taking pictures and making fools of ourselves (though Isaac, being a hungry little boy at the time, was much less enthusiastic than his normal hyperly exuberant self). Nice little place, but not much there, really. And so we ate lunch and moved on.

To Pergamum!!
I'll say it now (and quite possible again, later on): Pergamum was one of my ultimate highlights of this whole trip in Turkey.
After driving through some absolutely gorgeous country, we arrived at the base of a small mountain. Upon arriving there, we drove up said small mountain. Upon arriving at the top, you had one of the best views I've seen so far. The parking lot had a beautiful view of a lake surrounded by other mountains on one side, and the whole valley spread out before you on the other. Right then, even before the fun started, I was completely drawn in by Pergaumum. But then the fun did start. Isaac and I went ahead into the historical area and were immediately met by rocks upon rocks soaring up the crest of the hill. So many ruins! We ran all over them, climbing every chance we got, trying not to touch the ground. I climbed around so much that I think I used up my whole trip's quota of energy on that one place. After much picture-taking, running, leaping, laughing, making fools of ourselves, and near-death experiences, we moved on to the real jaw-dropper of the mountain. The amphitheater. Ahh, that wonderful amphitheater! I simply cannot describe to you well enough the emotions that that stage causes (neither can the pictures of it which may be found on Facebook). But I'll try a little bit anyway. You walk down this steep (and very narrow) set of stairs into a short tunnel that leads out to the amphitheater. (It was a very efficient method of ticketing control.) And then you hit the exit and, BAM! You look out and see row upon row of stone seating soaring sharply down from your feet. And once you are finally able to pull up your eyes from the seats and the small but beautiful stage at the bottom, your jaw drops a little further (and in my case perhaps a little drool escaped) as you take in the sheer beauty of the valley below and the mountains immediately across. I simply can't do justice to it. I would say that after I caught my breath I moved down the steep stairs to the stage, but I don't think that I managed to catch my breath again until after we left. But leaving my breath behind, I did move on down the (very) steep stairs to the stage, raving the whole time (with Isaac dying of laughter at my obsessive reactions). After exploring for a while, we went back up to the top and just sat looking out at the view for a while. I fantasized about being able to buy the amphitheater and make it a working stage again (it involved invisible shelters, in order to keep the weather out, while still being able to enjoy seeing everything clearly, but I won't bore you with the details). And nothing looked the same to me after that.

So without further ado, we drove back down the mountain and into the valley to another historical spot still in the Pergamum area. And this was just icing on the cake for me. Imagine a beautiful temple garden area with lots of smooth white stone, and then throw in a healthy dose of the magic that the late afternoon sun has the ability to work on things, and you can see what I saw. Surreal beauty. After spending another almost two hours there (I had to take so many pictures, because that lighting in that setting was stunning), we packed ourselves back into the car and headed home.

Hardly any day trips in my entire life are comparable to this one.

Gobble Gobble

I've barely been in Turkey for five days, and my life is already significantly changed by my experiences in it. I have met with many of the truly amazing workers in Izmir. I have seen a people searching for truth. I have seen a God reaching out towards them through His own people who He has filled with a burning passion for life. I have seen a beauty and vibrancy that reveals itself in layers incomprehensibly deeper than the mere lushness of the landscapes and colors the eye takes in upon gazing at my surroundings.
Yesterday afternoon, the whole troupe of us (Uncle Alan, Aunt Sandy, Isaac, and myself) went to a college gathering that meets together on a weekly basis in order to have a time of worship, learning, and and socializing. It was much shorter running than a typical "service" (as an American might view it), but held such a punch that, despite me not being able to understand more than a word or two here and there, I could comprehend a level of true camaraderie and vivaciousness: life and liveliness in the full sense of the words that put me completely at my ease. During the worship time, I was not saddened in the least by my inability to sing along because the musical response of these believers to God's grace and love so transcended any cultural bounds that may have assumed their defensive positions.
I feel that I am not doing just to the power and tenderness of the moment, so I'll just leave it at that.
But that was not the only such time. Despite the rude appearances of the transportation (which is much like what was seen in Ecuador: pedestrians have no right of ways; in fact no one except yourself does, which leads to all sorts of runnings of lights, passings at random times and places, and a general concern only for getting to your destination) which I prefer regardless (Turks certainly seem to have less wrecks than the crazy Americans), there is scattered quite liberally in Izmir a genteelness and respect that is most definitely lacking in the Western World. Everyone that I've seen feels like a neighbor (the good kind), even the neighbors. (Except for maybe the full car of punks upon which my cousin Isaac, myself, and one of our friends (perhaps unwisely) pulled off the invisible rope trick on the way back to pick up a bus home after youth group.) I like to tease Isaac that he has more culture shock when he goes back stateside to visit than I do when I travel internationally. Though the friends of the Whites have definitely made that easy on me (completed by their allowance of my not unwilling use as a playmate and punching bad of the little balls of energy they fondly call their children; one family in particular had seven kids (the oldest of which was maybe 13 or 14) who swarmed me almost as soon as I entered the house). Much has happened in such a little amount of time.

But in actuality, it was on just the second full day here that the most impacting moment (so far) made its move. At the Friday night youth group for the highschool kids of the workers in the area, one of the leaders of the group gave an interesting lesson. A really swell guy, and an almost better speaker, his message was one that dealt with what it truly meant to be "called" by God. The point that he made was that we are all called to God before anything else and that wherever we are and whatever job we may have, He will use that to further His glory. One does not need to be a preacher or go to some foreign land in order to be spreading the Gospel. Our talents all have a use (one which will definitely be fulfilled in ways we may never even realize) and God is equally pleased with everyone who uses them to the full extent that He provided, regardless of what that might be. This is a point that I've been preaching for a long time, so hearing this made me happy. However, that was not what hit me. It was his emphasis (both in the lesson and when I met him briefly in person before hand) on developing those skills and not being so stubbornly "holy" in our pursuit of ministry to the extent that we blind ourselves to the opportunities "secular" work give rise to that really caught my attention. Most of you know that I plan on going to Hawaii within the coming years to pursue the people there and in the Polynesian area. But what I should do once I get there has always been a bit of a mystery to me. And I've been sitting with relief on the fact that I have at least a couple of years to figure it out. But I started to realize not too long ago that I need to be more actively pursuing the answer to that question right now (a thought that was further pushed to the forefront on Friday). The recent months have been an exhilarating, frightening, sobering, and maturing time in my life; and what better place to put the gobbledygook behind me and move forward with more spice in my step than here in Turkey! May you be blessed with the same emotions wherever you may be that I have been bathed in here.

-Nic

p.s. Prayers are always acceptable and welcomed things, but if you could pray specifically for me over the next few months as I look to move into a new stage of life, that would be be most wondrous and heartening indeed! Thanks muchly! :D

The Rise of Love

Failure is trying
Why try to love what is lost
I will remain lost





I wander aimless
Graceless and foundationless
Sinking out of sight





Hope surrendered me
Darkness is overwhelming
Fear is all I see





I linger alone
Love sleeps with other lovers
But love is not dead





I reach out blindly
My lost hand is found in yours
Light can pierce my night





So this haiku series didn't turn out to have quite the punch I wanted it too, but perhaps you'll enjoy it regardless. It was a fun experiment for me to do, writing in haiku fashion. There is something about this Japanese structure that flows very smoothly and is a pleasure to write.


Hopefully,

ww



Copyright 2010 White Water and tributaries.
If your stream does not come into mine, it had better not leave with anything more.

The 75th Hour

Waking up fully rested to the sound of a morning thunderstorm is probably one of the nicest feelings you can have. "But wait," you say. "There is no thunderstorm here; just lots and lots of snow!" Well that, my friend, all depends on where "here" is. For me "here" is not there (where ever there might be for you). "Here" is here where I am. And that happens to be in an apartment. In Izmir. In Turkey. On the other side of the world. (Just for clarification.) And so I can say truthfully that I did rise this morning with thunderous applause.

"But wait!" you say to me (once again). "How in the world did you get to where you are in the world?! (And why did you not take me?)" To answer second things first: sadly three weeks worth of clothing left no room for stowaways in my baggage. To answer first things second: let me return to roughly 70 hours ago.

Monday night:
11:30 PM
I finally started packing for Turkey. It took quite a bit longer than anticipated, as I spent about an hour and a half on figuring out my music selection alone. (However, packing my clothes only took about 20 minutes. Yes, I have strange travel priorities.) And so at the wee hour of two in the morning I finally hit the bed (after a short debate with myself on whether or not to even go to sleep at all that night).

Tuesday morning:
6:15 AM
I somehow dragged myself out of bed (it had to be a miracle sent by God). I promptly wanted to get back into bed. I resisted (again, only through God's miraculous work).
7:15 AM
My mom (who drove me to the airport) and I were off. I finally started to wake up slightly, and the true excitement of an adventure beginning decided to come along for the ride. After a long drive (worrying about making it to the airport on time) we arrived with plenty of time. And so I kissed my mother dear farewell and headed off into the wild blue yonder!
2:00 PM
The flight to Dallas was uneventful. I slept a bit. Enough said.
3:30 PM
I headed off to Frankfurt. This flight was a huge score in one way. They had in-seat tv monitors, complete with a variety of semi-entertaining games, and a huge collection (for an airplane) of movies and television shows. I ended up watching three different movies in a row (and would have watched more, but didn't have time), all of which were quite good (Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs; Night at the Museum 2; and The Boys are Back). However, in another way the Frankfurt flight was a huge bust. Because of the wonders of the glowing screen in front of me, sleep escaped from my clutches entirely. And also, there was an almost literal bust at the end. I've always had a bit of trouble with pressure change hurting my ears on the descents. But landing in Frankfurt gave me a new definition of pain. This particular pressure change phenomenon was not content with destroying my ear drums, but insisted on bringing my eye along to the party. I actually felt as if a blood vessel had burst. Combine that with the fact that this pain started almost half an hour before we landed, and I had never been more happy to get off of a plane before!

Wednesday morning:
5:40 AM
I finally left Frankfurt, and was certainly glad to do so. I spent the entire four hour layover wandering around the airport waiting for my gate number to be revealed. It wasn't until half an hour before the scheduled take off time that it was finally posted.
10:00 AM
I somehow survived getting to Istanbul (the pressure was almost as bad as Frankfurt; helped slightly by my memory of my ibuprofen stash) and was getting on the final plane of the trip! (p.s. Turkish Airlines should get with it! I (once again) did not find out which gate I was boarding at until right before we boarded. Also, back in Frankfurt, they didn't open their check-in counter until almost ten in the morning local time!)
12:00 PM
No more flying!!!! After getting off what had to be one of the shortest plane rides I've been on (about 45 minutes in the air), I had another long wait before I could make a proper exit. Somehow they "misdirected" my and four other people's luggage to the wrong part of the airport. So after we stood around aimlessly looking at the empty conveyor belt with sad, puppy eyes for a long enough time (close to half an hour), they bussed us over to the completely other side of airport and there we found our long lost friends: Baggage&Co. (for some reason in the international terminal, instead of where we arrived in domestic). It was here that Aunt Sandy rescued me from my nearly 30 hours of floating through the world. And after meeting up with Uncle Alan (who had the car at the domestic terminal as they never know for sure which one travelers will end up at, such is the consistent inconsistency of the Izmir Airport) we finally headed home.
12:30 PM
We made it home without any other events and I was finally able to not worry about the next place I had to get to. The Whites live in a fairly nice (on the inside anyway) apartment complex (as do almost all people in Izmir). It was a very comforting view after such a long time in wide open airports and cramped planes.
5:45 PM
After much socializing with the family and a wonderful dinner (at which I discovered the second weirdest drink I've ever tasted) my cousin Isaac and I stayed up playing games on our respective computers and generally enjoying each others' company until we managed to pull ourselves away to bed. Then, snuggled comfortably under my covers, I was out before the lights. (They have an interesting incandescent glow for a little while after being turned off.)


And that brings me back to the thunderstorms of this morning with which I began this blog (quarter 'til eight local time/12:45 AM in VA). From then I have had a spectacular breakfast, more great socializing with Isaac and Aunt Sandy (Uncle Alan had already left for the office), checked the good old Book of Face (I always feel out of civilization after multiple days of not checking), and have spent a relaxing morning doing very little. But now that morning is over (it's after twelve here) I believe it might be time to get the RTA (Real Turkish Adventure) started! Isaac and I are leaving soon to go pick up lunch and go bowling. Then I have no clue what happens. But that's part of what makes and adventure so exciting! So until I find myself typing away to you next, fare ye well!

-Nic


New Words:
Sut: Water
Ayran: The second weirdest drink I've tasted (pretty much liquid yogurt that is sour and salty instead of sweet and fruity)

A Summary of Inspiration

So as my first "real" post since my revamping of my writing (and adversely my blog), I decided I would put out a little teaser of all the ideas that I am currently banging around in my head. (It's been painful letting the little buggers just run around crazy like that inside. They need to get out and play every now and then.) So here goes:

CURRENTLY WRITING:
More Poetry!!!!
-If you need an explanation of what this entails, then perhaps you should find a different pursuit of life than reading my material...

Tides (co-authoring with Nathan J. Vencil aka http://theresidentphilosopher.blogspot.com/)
-A murder mystery set entirely on the beach
-Being written as a full-length screenplay

Grand (working title)
-The amazing adventures of a man's flight around the world
-Set in an early 1900's steampunk society
-Written in diary form

UPCOMING:
The Chronicles of Pan
-Being the account of the many adventures of each of the Pans (Peter being merely the most famous; not the first, nor the greatest, and certainly not the only Pan)

CONCEPTS:
A Romance of a certain sort
-I have some images and concepts floating around with this one, but nothing more solid than that the main character is a teenage delivery-boy in (probably) New York who falls in love with the musically inclined daughter of the owner of a small (but popular) restaurant.

Japanese Samurai/Ninja epic trilogy
-Each book told (in first person narrative) from the point of view of the main character
-First book: A girl who masks her identity to become the hero the people need
-Second book: A young man who dreams of joining the legend's trusted followers
-Third book: A foreigner who joins the merry band and chronicles the end of the war

Pirate+Ninja Wars
-I already started working on this one, then dropped it for a while (or maybe closer to 10-20 years) after I realized that what I am going for with this story is so far above and beyond what I can currently write.
-Ask me about it if you want to know more, because I have a lot more detail on this one than I feel like writing down right now.

Post-apocalyptical novella
-That's pretty much all I've got on this, other than that I want it to be rather harsh.

St. George and the Dragon retelling
-This has always been one of my favorite stories. If you don't know it, look it up immediately!!! I highly recommend this version: http://www.amazon.com/Saint-George-Dragon-Margaret-Hodges/dp/0316367958

Beauty and the Beast retelling
-Quite possibly my favorite fairy tale ever (and not just the Disney version, though I love that too).
-If you don't know this, then you are simply a very uncultured, sad person.

Soccer serial
-There's something about sports stories that are very compelling, so I'd like to try my own hand at it sometime. Soccer is obviously the best choice, seeing as it is my favorite sport.
-The story will follow one boy's career from his first stages as a young child all the way up through his stint in the World Cup as a young adult.

Steampunk epic
-Involving a large war. I don't know much else yet.

Assassin
-Set in Renaissance Venice and Rome
-Centers around an assassin who is hired to kill the pope
-Will not be written for many, many years, as what I want to do with this is utterly and ridiculously difficult.

WWZ
-(Stands for World Wrestling Zombies)
-A team of misfits, headed by a superstar professional wrestler, attempt to fend off a zombie invasion and maybe save the world.


And there you have most of my ideas so far. Hopefully some piqued your interest. I'm interested to know what you think about these stories and what I can do to make them spectacular. In the meantime, keep looking for more to come at a less distant date! Let the great writing adventures begin!!!

In excited anticipation,
ww


Most definitely Copyright 2010 White Water.
So if I find myself reading any of these ideas in story form without my name being on the title page...I had better not.

Finally... (!)

So I realize that it has been many moons since my last posting. You probably thought I fell off the face of the earth, or that I had gotten into a terrible accident and secluded myself from the rest of the world to be overwhelmed in self-pity, or (horror of horrors) you haven't been checking up on my blog and never even noticed, or maybe you simply know me well enough to remember how lazy I can be and have more than likely just been waiting for me to announce the return of my presence. In the first case: that would have been a grand adventure indeed, but sadly it did not happen. To the second case: that would have been truly annoying and I'm quite unannoyed that it did not. As for the third case: I would be rather saddened to hear such, but will strive harder in the coming days to make sure that such does not continue. And if you chose the fourth case: well, honesty prompts me to say that you would be correct in your assumption.

But! (Oh how wondrous the fullness of power and depth which can be so sublimely and subliminally contained in one word!)
But, I have a proclamation to proclaim!
From henceforth, there will be a tumult of writings pouring out from this very blog! You are not convinced? Then let me begin to convert your doubting Thomas by ending this post and beginning the next! See you in a minute or two!

Sallying forth,
ww


Copyright 2010 White Water.
There was a special spot in my heart for plagiarizers. I cut it out and burned it.

Blink

So here is the project that I've been working on for the past month or two. I absolutely fell in love with the concept. However, it is still rather rough (this is just the first draft after all) and could use many improvements. But here it is in its current state for you to read. I hope you like it! (Further comments on Blink will probably take up another post by itself, so I leave that until then.)



Blink

A Script by: Nicolas White


SCENE ONE
{(All in rewind, so people are moving backwards, etc.) Camera moves through images of a terrible fire. People are running everywhere. Chaos is rampant. Zoom on a young man lying unconscious in the wreckage. Zoom in on face until only the closed eyes are visible. Eyes blink open slowly.}

SCENE TWO
{Man sits up slowly and surveys his surroundings. He is sitting in a wooded glade, completely alone. (He is dressed in plain clothes that seem to be from roughly the 12th century.) Stands and stretches. Touches head gingerly. Still slightly unsure of himself, starts to move further into the clearing. A noise causes him to pause. Moves back to the edge of the woods and conceals himself quickly. A beautiful young woman runs into the clearing, laughing, looking over her shoulder whence she came. Two other young men and another young woman follow her into the glade, also laughing. (All are dressed in 12th century clothes.) The girls begin to dance, as the other two play instruments. Camera focuses mainly on the first girl, switching back and forth between various shots of her face, bare feet, swirling dress, hair, etc. and the still-hidden young man enraptured by her. The magical moment is broken by her screams as an arrow shot from somewhere in the wood fells one of the musicians. The young man looks on in horror, as arrow after arrow is shot into the glade at the trio. Attempting to escape is useless as more of the arrows find their marks. The young man trying to find the origin of the darts sees a shadowy figure deep on his side of the woods. Weeping angrily, he takes off in pursuit of the shadow. However, as he runs, he does not draw any closer to his unmoving target. He staggers as a blinding white light envelops him slowly, until the camera can see nothing but white.}

SCENE THREE
{Camera is still whitewashed as a female voice is heard, as from far away. Camera perspective of eyes slowly opening, looking up into a sunny, blue sky that is semi-blocked by the smiling face of the woman previously seen.}

GIRL (laughing): Hey! About time you woke up, sleepy head. I just couldn’t let you nap away the entire trip, not with this beautiful afternoon!

{Man sits up and sees that he is on a dock in a lake, wearing swim trunks. The girl is standing over him, playfully teasing. Two other guys and a girl (the same ones as the scene before) are jumping off of the dock and swimming in the lake.}

GIRL (to the others): Look who’s finally decided to join the fun!
{The rest of the party shouts joyfully.}
GUY 1: Hurry up and get in!
GUY 2: The water is great!

{Girl drags man onto his feet then promptly pushes him off the dock into the water. He comes back up to the surface, spluttering and laughing.}

MAN: You liars! This water is freezing!
GIRL 2: Only because you’ve been dreaming in the hot, hot sun for so long.
{Man hurriedly climbs back up onto the dock.}

MAN: You know what? Now that I’m back out of the water again, it really wasn’t all that bad!
GIRL (smirking): Oh, really?
MAN (nonchalantly moving towards Girl): No. In fact I think I’ll get back in again!
GIRL: Well good for you!
MAN (Smiling winningly): Mmhmm! I think you would really enjoy it, too. After all, the more the merrier!

{Upon saying this, Man grabs Girl, runs to the side of the dock and jumps into the water, bringing the struggling, laughing Girl with him. The group splashes and plays in the water for a while. Cut to Man and Girl lying side by side on the dock in the late afternoon sun. The noises of the other three still enjoying the water can be heard.}

GIRL (poking Man): Hey, you’ve been pretty quiet for a while. You’re not sleeping again are you?
MAN (snapping out of a personal reverie): Eh? What’s that?
GIRL (a bit more serious): You alright? You’ve been kinda out of it all day.
MAN: No, no. I’m fine…. I was just thinking.
GIRL: What about?
MAN: So, when I was resting my eyes a little while ago, before being so rudely roused
GIRL (interrupting): Hey, you needed to get up and about!
MAN (hardly noticing the interruption): I was having the strangest dream.
GIRL (playfully): Was I in it?
MAN: Well…In retrospect, yes. But in the dream, you and the others only seemed vaguely familiar. I couldn’t place the reason. I just knew there was something about the scene that seemed like I should have recognized, and couldn’t.
GIRL: Strange.
{Man falls into silence.}
GIRL: But what happened?
MAN (slowly): Everyone died…
{Girl waits patiently for him to explain.}
MAN: It was all so real feeling…. I didn’t even know that I was dreaming until I woke up. Yet, at the same time, there was an air of magic that gave the whole thing an ethereal presence. The scene was so beautiful, so entrancing. Then…everyone was being killed. And I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. All I could do was watch you being killed right in front of me…
GIRL (comforting): Hey, but it was just a dream, right. I’m here. So are the others. We’re all fine. Stop thinking so much!
{She playfully rolls him over onto his back and beams at him. Suddenly a scream breaks the air. It is the other girl who is searching around in the water panicked.}
GIRL 2 (hysterically): I can’t find him!! He never came back up out of the water!
{Guy 2 is searching in the water frantically, as well. Man jumps up and sprinting to the edge of the dock, dives deep into the lake in the direction of Guy 1’s guessed location. It is dark and murky underwater, but still with some visibility. Man sees a shadow moving ahead and swims on towards it. He moves faster still as he recognizes Guy 1 who is unconscious and drifting towards the bottom of the lake. Just as Man is about to grab his arm and return to the surface, a pair of arms reach around Guy 1 and starts to drag him further down. He freezes completely as the bodies drifting into better view reveals the same shadowy figure seen in the woods from the dream. Man starts swimming hysterically after them, confused and panicked. He lets out an inaudible scream as they get farther away. A blinding white light envelops his vision slowly, and the camera sees nothing else.}

SCENE FOUR
{Man jerks awake in a cold sweat. He is sitting on what he recognizes to be the couch in his living room. The room is dark and the slow ticking of the clock keeps time with the monotonous tapping of gray rain on the window above him. He shifts stiffly to a sitting position. A faint, unintelligible whisper echoes around him but causes nothing more than very slight curiosity immediately forgotten. He moves off of the couch and dazedly wanders the room, looking at the pictures on the wall (some include him and his friends), and aimlessly browsing through the things on the shelf. (A calendar can be seen briefly. Focus on a circled date with “Dinner at (fancy restaurant)” written in it.) A picture of Girl 1 is prominently displayed in the center of the shelf. As he leans in to look at it closer, running his fingertips down her cheek, the whisper is heard again. This time it is intelligible.}

WHISPER: You killed her.
{Man starts away from the picture and looks around him to try to find the voice.}
WHISPER: You killed them all.
{Man stumbles still in a daze out of the living room into a hallway.}
WHISPER: It is all your fault.
{Flash of a fiery scene.}
WHISPER (slightly louder): It is all your fault.
{Another, slightly longer flash of the fiery scene. Man stumbles against the wall clutching his head with one hand.}
MAN (mumbling): It was out of my control
{The voice is no longer whispering now, but talking quietly, but soberly. It is familiar sounding.}
VOICE: Was it really out of your control?
MAN: It all happened so fast…
VOICE: Was it really too fast?
MAN: There was no time…
VOICE: You had time.
MAN (voice rising): I couldn’t do anything!
VOICE: You ran.
MAN (loudly): We all did!
{As he says this, he lurches further down the hall. As he moves, he opens each of the doors he passes, sticking his head in to look briefly for something and moving on when it is not found. He rounds the corner and looks up the flight of stairs looming in front of him. Pictures line the wall going up. As he puts his foot onto the first step, the flash of fire returns again: this time more clearly shown to be the very pictures on the stair wall burning where they hang. As suddenly as it came, it is gone, and he moves again slowly up the stairs. The voice begins once more but the man does not stop.}
VOICE: You should have saved them.
MAN (mumbling again): There was nothing I could do…nothing I could do…
{He continues on his aimless quest; searching for something in all the rooms; not finding it anywhere. His movements are significantly quicker and more alarmed now}
VOICE: It is too late.
MAN (barely audible): I must find them…
VOICE: They are gone.
MAN (whispering): I must save them…
VOICE: You are too late.
{He slumps down slowly into a corner of the last room (his bedroom) across from his dresser (upon which there is a framed picture of the Girl), despondent.}
VOICE (breathing a whisper again): You were too late…
{Man sits with his face in his hands. It is silent and still for a long moment. Then the entire room is suddenly engulfed with flame. He dives across the room towards the burning picture of the Girl and grabs it despite the flame and hugs it close. The flames are gone. He lays unmoving where he dove, still clutching the picture for another long, silent moment.}
VOICE (loudly, harshly): Why did you let her die?!
{Something snaps inside of the man and he throws the picture away from him violently. He rushes out of the room through a wall of fire. The voice pursues him, increasing in intensity as he retraces his steps (through flash after flash of red fire) screaming back at it.}
MAN: What was I supposed to do?!
VOICE: Not let them die, of course!
MAN: It’s not my fault! It’s not my fault!
VOICE: The living is always to blame!
{Man screams hoarsely as he bursts through the worst wall of fire yet into his living room. It is dark and silent as before, the only sounds to be heard: the clock ticking in time with the rain, still beating quietly against the window, and his own labored inhales and exhales. He wipes some sweat off of his brow and straightens up, calm and collected. He is still for a moment.}
MAN (quietly and calmly): I cannot breathe.
{He moves to the front door and opens it wide. As he opens it, he is silhouetted and enveloped by a blinding white light that rushes in rapidly with the noise of a great wind, until all is whitewashed once again.}

SCENE FIVE
{The noise of the wind and the brightness of the light subside slightly and he finds himself standing knee-deep in a frozen, open place. The wind whipping past him blows snow into his face and he squints to see. A wind-swept shadow flickers through his peripheral vision in the distance. He wraps his arms around him and trudges forward towards where he saw it. He stumbles and falls, rolling and sliding a ways down a hill. Gasping for breath from the cold, he pulls himself up quickly. A lonely panic starts to overtake him as he circles around looking for something…anything… A flash of color catches his eye and he rushes stumbling towards it. Before he can get to it he trips over something and falls face first into the snow. He works his way into a sitting position to view what he tripped over. A feeling of nausea sweeps through him as recoils from what he recognizes to be a human leg, frozen stiff. Unwillingly, but compelled by a force stronger than him, he brushes the snow away from the body. The frozen face of Girl 2 stares blankly up at him. He falls back, weeping in horror and crashes into another partially snow-covered body. It is another of his friends: Guy 1. In his haste to get away, his slips and once again falls headlong towards the snow. He catches himself with his arms only to find himself staring into the blank face of Guy 2 inches away from his own. Shaking with sobs and gasping for breath, he heaves himself to his feet. His eyes widen as he remembers the flash of color that had brought him to the gruesome find in the first place. He turns slowly to face where it can barely be seen through the blowing snow 15 or 20 feet away. A familiar shadowy wisp of a figure hovers behind it, but only for an instant. A feeling of panic unlike any felt by him before creeps up his spine. Hardly moving at first, then gradually rushing to a sprint, he makes his way through the deep snow to the object of color. He drops to his knees upon arriving as his worst fear is realized. There, lying serenely in the snow is his dead girl. He pulls her stiffly to his chest and lets and few frozen tears onto her face pressed tightly to his. He sits like that for a long moment then throws back his head and screams with all his might.}

SCENE SIX
{As he screams the scene around him bursts into flame; huge, roaring, destroying fire. It is the same setting as the opening scene: a building burning into debris. The noise and the chaos of the destruction and the runnings and screams of the people is overpowering. The man still sits cradling to his chest.}
VOICE: You could have stopped all of this…
{No answer from the man; only the surrounding chaos.}
VOICE: She might have avoided death…
{Still no answer.}
VOICE (more firmly): That should have been you in her place.
{Man remains emotionless; face hidden.}
VOICE (Huge): Why did you let them die?!?!
MAN (Screaming): What do you want from me?!
VOICE (quietly): I want what you want…
{The man gently lays the girl down and very slowly stands up. In the meantime, the coloration becomes very faded, like a painting that has seen far too much light, playing off of the shadows. People still run and the destruction continues around him, but the sound has faded away and everything is moving in slow motion. As he assumes a standing position, the familiar shadowy figure fades into view in front of him (camera sees the back of the shadow, the front of the man).}
VOICE: You want to be at peace with yourself.
{Camera is panning around during above line, so that his face is revealed on “yourself”. The shadow is in fact just a shadowy version of the man himself. An expression of confusion, then understanding, mixed with anger and a bit of sadness passes across the man’s face.}
MAN: Why have you been tormenting me?
VOICE: You cannot comprehend fully why I am standing before you, if you raise such questions still. Let me ask you this, instead: Who do you think I am?
MAN: You are myself.
VOICE: That is incorrect. I am merely your subconscious. I rule this world while you remain unmoving in the real. However, I am not you.
MAN: Then you have every ability to explain to me why I am forced to see such horrors. Why do you refuse let me be enlightened?
VOICE (sighing): How can one become enlightened if he cannot face the facts for himself? You demand answers that you already have for problems that you created yourself.
MAN: You speak in riddles.
VOICE: Only because you will not hear the truth in them.
MAN (frustrated): Then what is the truth?
VOICE: You know that better than I…
{Man is silent for a while.}
MAN: I believe I begin to understand this whole nightmare.
VOICE: Then let me ask you again: Who am I?
MAN: You are a memory, or rather an illusion created by my memory.
VOICE: I am your mind, and I created these illusions to prevent you from breaking down entirely. They are images of the life that you so desperately sought to regain when all had been utterly consumed by fire.
MAN: But they were imperfect. They were almost more horrifying than the life you claim to be protecting me from.
VOICE: Almost. However, do you not prefer this fantasy? Knowing that there is that chance to see the ones you love another time, would you choose any other path?
{Man is silent.}
VOICE: And those visions were merely the meek creations of a scattered conscious. The horrors found within were results of your guilt and inability to move on. But it does not need to be that way. You could stay in this fantasy without the pain, without the fear. Death could never touch you again. This is the true power that I offer. The dream without the nightmare.
MAN: Are dreams and fantasies all that are left to me then? Am I so broken that I cannot regain the power to live?
VOICE: You could return to the living world, albeit not the one you knew before. But you would forever wish to change what is impossible to undo, to continue to love what is dead. Would not remaining stationary in fantasy be a wiser decision than stagnating in life? Is it not better to live a lie than the evils of the past?
MAN: I cannot disagree that I long for the relief of the world you offer. And you’re right, it may be better to do so…
VOICE: Then no longer remain indecisive. Give up your guilt. Allow yourself to drift away into sublime subconsciousness.
MAN (slowly): It may indeed be better to remain unmoving in time. But is better enough? Is it not the core of humanity to search instead for what is best? I am broken beyond repair. I will certainly never regain what I have lost. I may not even have the ability to find what I still have. Moving on with life beyond that point will be most difficult of all.
VOICE: Then is the choice not obvious?
MAN: No choice is obvious. That is why decisions are necessarily made. If one knew without thinking which way to go, then there would be no decision to make in the first place. The prerequisite of resolution is a conflict of resolve. Without it, choice becomes instinct. But the ability to select one thing over another is merely what defines us as the human race; the will to do so and the consequences therein are what define us as individuals.
VOICE: But even if you did choose to live, was it not you yourself who said you were broken beyond repair? What can you do with your life that would make it of any more of a relief than the fantasy that you desire?
MAN: I may be shattered in a way that no glue can hold together. But can something ever be too broken to be remade anew? And I do not know what my life might hold for me, or if it will provide me with the healing that I need, but that is what appeals to me. The future is unknown. It is beyond my control to affect until I am standing at that point.
VOICE: So you have made your choice, then. You will not be able to escape yourself. You will be utterly consumed by fire.
MAN: And why not be utterly consumed by fire? In it there is hope.
{As he says that final line the color and noise and chaos of the scene reignites with a fury. Upon the uttering of his last word, a burning chunk hits his head and he falls to the ground. His eyes blink slowly shut as he loses consciousness. The camera slowly zooms away in what SCENE ONE had shown in rewind. Fire overcomes all that can be seen, then blackness.}

SCENE SEVEN
{Man’s eyes open. He is lying in his own bed. He stares at the ceiling for a moment, then throws the covers off and gets up. He makes the bed quickly but efficiently, walks to his dresser and pulls out some clothes. He dresses himself and smoothes everything out in the mirror. So far he has been completely emotionless. He then looks at the dresser, sees a picture there that is lying face down, and reaches out to grab it. He hesitates slightly then props it back up to the proper position. It is a beautiful shot of the Girl beaming at him. He smiles a bit as he checks the calendar on the wall, looks at his watch, and rushes out of the door. Camera lingers for a bit. Fade out. Credits roll.}




Copyright 2010 White Water (aka Nicolas White, until I bring further people on board).