Quote:The concept of time is something that is, in definition, scientific, not philosophical. We try to think of time as a philosophical entity, but truly, that is impossible, and therefore we must revert to the scientific intricacies of chronology, which is, in essence, the “science of time.” The scientists who analyze this topic are all convinced that time is scientific, which is a true fact, as has been stated.

But they are also convinced that time is of importance in the world, when truly, there are some people to which time means nothing. To a person, for example, who believes they have “all the time in the world,” time is simply a convenience, something that is there to give them a good measure of others’ lives. Time is also of little importance to someone who has isolated themselves from others for a long time. This is why time is considered in no decisions that Julius makes.

Isolation. Pure isolation was what Julius had become accustomed to. He did not live for anyone else—no longer did he live to please others. He did not care for others. His sister, his parents, his friends, any of his family—they meant nothing to him. He had grown used to solitude over the past six months, and being alone had become a safe haven for him. In his lonesome, no one could injure him. In his solitude, he could hurt no one. It was a Heaven for him to be in, to be alone. Isolation had truly been a blessing in disguise. In retrospect, it was probably one of the better decisions he’d made in life.

After he’d gotten Alice admitted to the hospital, he looked upon her mangled form and found himself in tears over something he had done. In the past, he’d always agreed with every decision he’d made. This time, he found hatred building up inside of him—self-hatred, that is. He wanted to die. But death wasn’t something that was calling him. Instead, a life where he could never make even the slightest indent on anyone else’s life beckoned him. And he answered the call gladly.

He’d called the wilderness of planet Earth home for almost six months now. It was his home, more than any other place had been in the past, and now he found himself living under his own rule, calling the wild to him—the woods answered him when he talked to them. He would go on for hours having a conversation with a large oak that towered over his fishing spot, and though he knew in the back of his mind that the oak could not hear him or comprehend his spoken thoughts, he found that just having someone—or, rather, something—to rant to was simply refreshing.

And that was where he found himself. Standing under the oak, carrying on a conversation that no human or alien alike would ever hear. The only organism that could even possibly listen to him speak was the tree. In his silent thoughts, his life was sad, unexciting, and perhaps even melancholy. But throughout the day, he found satisfaction; he found that living this life was something that made him happy.

But then he remembered that he was happy when he was traveling around with Alice. Maybe, he thought, Maybe happiness is what is killing me. Maybe I’m not supposed to be happy—after all, happy thoughts have always led to bad feelings later on. Bad feelings, bad occurrences, bad outcomes—you name it, the principal feeling that’s led up to them has been happiness. He pondered this for a second, and concluded that perhaps this was so, but he could not help how his emotions wanted to react to his rather boring, monotonous lifestyle.

“Happiness is a warm gun.”

His makeshift harpoon in his hand, the young man of nineteen stood at the ready, beckoning the fish closer with the bait. He could see the silhouette in the water, closing in, and then plunged the harpoon into the water. The very thin, scrawny spear just barely hit the fish, connecting with his ribs; but when Julius tried to pull it out, it would not come. It was stuck. And the large fish pulled, and Julius was jerked from the shore into the lake, the fish pulling him along by the harpoon.

The “battle” between the fish and he had just begun, though. Underneath the water, the fish jerked, trying to dislodge its new companion. “It’s your fault, fish,” Julius murmured, trying not to take in too much water as he taunted his enemy.

Meanwhile, Julius was working hard in an attempt to kill the fish. He swung his other hand around so that both of his fists were now closed around the harpoon, and attempted to plunge it deeper. The fish gurgled in pain, and blood erupted from his sides; the red liquid covered the human as it continued to tag along with the fish as it made its way deeper and deeper into the lake, trying to shake off its pursuer. But Julius would not give up so easily. The fish underestimated him, he assumed. As if the fish actually had the mind capacity to underestimate him.

“Come on, fish,” said the young man, “Just go a little bit faster.” And the fish listened. Stupidly, it obeyed the commands of Julius and sped up just enough, and now that the harpoon had been dislodged just enough for the boy to get a hold on it, he pushed himself forward quite violently and plunged the spear through the fish’s body, and the blade came emerging from his maw, spattering blood everywhere. That was it. The battle was over. The fish was dead.

Julius Wrote:"the two"? Would this be the one beginning with an M and the one beginning with a D?

Quote:The nomadic life had done nothing to tame him—he looked at himself every day, and all he saw was the same angry, unkempt young boy that had resorted to violence. And on his own sister, too; he felt horrible, and yet, nothing had changed. He had been here for months, living off the land, living alone, associating with no one but himself, and he noticed that he remained the same. It saddened him deeply. He had wanted to become different, to become a better person; but if God refused to let him, how could he refuse God’s wishes?

The young man of nineteen years lay in the grass, feeling the wind caressing his face like a woman’s touch; he could barely remember that feeling, but it was one of the few joyous feelings he had stored in memory, so it lingered. As the grass brushed his sides, he sat up, taking a look at where he was.

Quote:Warm, mellow sunshine spilled its hazy beams over the wavy grass, caressing the weather-beaten skin of the young man that lay in the almost endless blanket of emerald blades. To the north, a fringe of trees held the field at bay, so thick was the foliage, that the heavenly light barely penetrated its heavy canopy. All around him was Mother Nature at work, weaving into her intricate tapestry the story of the nineteen year old man known as Julius.
As serene as his surroundings were, he couldn’t seem to lull into the gentle embrace that was offered him by his sacred God. He didn’t realize what a slap in the face this was to Him, for he had other things to distract him than the simplistic beauty that was given to him.

Quote:He sat smack dab in the middle of the wilderness. Smack dab in the middle of the “wild Earth” as it was called. And he expected to be tamed? He really could be stupid sometimes.

Quote:But he liked it here.

Quote:Perhaps he was never meant to be the person he wished he could be. Perhaps he was always meant to be angry, violent, and revolutionary—it shocked him. As a child (add a comma here, there’s a pause), he had never even considered ending up like this. To him, this status, the status of being poor, homeless—a nomad—it was the lowest he could possible get on the social ladder.

But then, social aspects of life didn’t particularly matter to him anymore. Since he had injured his sister, he’d lost interest in associating with people. Before, he had had friends, enemies, lovers, and his sister; when he left after injuring her, he lost contact with everyone. He abandoned them with one wish: that they take care of Alice. And make sure she is better than he was. He knew they wouldn’t understand. But he could always try.

Quote:It was true. He had been living on Earth for more than just a few months. In fact, it was closing in on a year now. But he had just begun to do something with his spare time. He had decided that, in the absence of something to rehabilitate him, he would improve himself physically and mentally. And that was when he had started training on what some of the warriors called “ki.” Harnessed energy. It had come almost naturally to him, and within a few weeks he had the ability to shape it to his will—within reason, of course. He knew he wasn’t that skilled with it yet, but he was progressing. He had also taken up hunting instead of scrounging for berries. The animals were his friends; but the animals were also his food. He needed them for sustenance.

Quote:It was at this thought that he heard the growl.

It came from somewhere around him, and he knew what it was, he just couldn’t find it—it was a bear. He had seen bears around his campsite many times before, but he’d never really had to fight one. But if it was threatening him or his supplies, then he supposed that bear-wrestling would be a good hobby to take up.

Quote:It came from nowhere, as if it meant to attack; he knew that bears were more afraid of humans than humans were of bears, but this grizzly showed no signs of fear as it lunged from the shadows of trees around the clearing. The two fighters, both of the wilderness, grappled and fell onto the soft grass. It was almost cushioning for Julius, and he almost found himself enjoying this fight, until the bear lunged again, scraping his chest. He could feet the blood rolling fluidly from the wound, and pushed with all his strength at his attacker. But the bear would not yield. Julius’s strength was never the best; usually, he relied on speed and tactics. But when a very large bear is lying on top of you, you don’t really have much time for “tactics.”

Quote:It all happened so fast, that there was really no time for Julius to realize what was going on. He punched, and the bear fell off of him; the fight continued for several more seconds, but after the punch, the bear seemed to get progressively weaker. It came and went, but the battle was turning quickly to his favor.

And in about five minutes, the bear was stunned just enough for Julius to grasp his dagger from his satchel and plunge it into the bear’s chest. And just like that, the battle was over—it was finished.

The bear was dead.