Doctrinae Amnis

[armageddon818]

I really love writing. I get published every month in the school newspaper, I take vigorous english courses, but none of it quite fills that little void where creative writing should be. Anyway this is creative nonfiction, a memoir of sorts that I wrote. Gamerbird and his stories are really great, and he has inspired me to post some of the more interesting (since there are equally uninteresting ones) pieces I have written. Sure, its a bit long, but bear with me please!

 

Hope you all like it!

 

Doctrinae Amnis: Teachings of the River

Life is hard. Life is difficult. Life is unpredictable. Should we build walls to escape it? Will making a dam stop the flow of the inevitable, the flow of life? Do we want to protect ourselves from what life throws at us for as long as we can before we become exhausted? Or shall we instead join harmoniously with that same force which so often causes us to make those barriers? Should we be like the river, who faces its impediments and erodes them no matter how long it takes until it can pass? We choose now, and we choose forever our fate when we ask ourselves such a crucial question of allegiance.

Everything was perfectly timeless, the large white stones that we used to step across the river still manned their stations. Betraying the summer season, auburn, maroon, and golden leaves from autumns past still covered the banks and shone in the filtered light which drifted sleepily through the pine, maple, and birch canopy. The lightly ruffled surface of the water held the shimmering image of the canopy’s silhouette against the cloud-covered sky, babbling quietly to itself as it rushed. A lively dressing of olive drab surrounded the river, sprouting in groups where the roots from nearby trees had grown into the stream. Small, flat stones, perfect stones for skipping, still composed the bottom, piled endlessly atop one another, filling in the dips of the river’s floor. How could they just sit there on the bottom when so much happens around them all the time? Shading the water were tones of dark slate blue and khaki, which had been absorbed from the rocks on its floor. An ancient odor, the smell of modestly aging rock still hung close to the shores. This water had earned its winding path across the land throughout the ages, and demanded my respect.

Who would have thought that this last camping trip would be so unlike the last few?

We scampered feverishly around the site, hastily putting up tents, tarps, tables, and moving our luggage back and forth, all the while nervously flicking our eyes upward to catch a glimpse of the oncoming storm clouds. Right on cue, as my family and two cousins sat down to grab a congratulatory soda, the monsoon began.

It lasted all afternoon and night; thunder and lightning wrestled violently above us for hours without pause. Unless I wanted to get soaked instantly, I stayed underneath the tarps at all times.

I awoke to an eerie silence and wondered what was missing. The incessant pounding of the raindrops had stopped, and I raced out side just to stand there and listen to the absence of the infernal noise. Still dim, the sky was blanketed in clouds, but was holding back. My cousin Tom and I took this chance to go play in the river, just as we had done every year before.

As we walked calmly into the water, the river let us know by holding our feet in its icy grasp that it too held great power. Time passed, and that grip began to slowly relax, the gentle tug around our ankles fading away into the background. The lazy roar of the river followed its tug to our subconscious minds, until each became almost imperceptible. We were focused, we were sure, we had a goal, and we began to build a dam in that river with fervor the likes of which I had never experienced before.

Higher and higher, stronger and stronger, wider, longer, more rocks, more sand, there was no way we could stop. We were so totally engrossed in our work, that we had forgotten time, left behind all the boring restraints of the tarps, abandoned the warmth of the fire, and refused to feel the stinging cold of the large raindrops which had begun to fall steadily once again. We should have been cold like everyone else was, but the heat of our determination kept us from freezing. Endless piles of rocks, innumerable buckets of sand, we could do nothing but make it grow. The pool’s shade darkened as it got deeper. Clear pools below the dam stared up in amazement and frustration at the success of our obstruction. Yet, water still spilled over the tops, around the sides, and through the tiniest of cracks enough to let us know that the river was still playing too. Our fingers were sore, our legs ached, our backs longed to stretch; why then, did we continue to fight? Did we ever think we could prevail? It was futile, it was pointless, it was hopeless. There was no way to win, and yet, our hands kept digging, our legs continued to ferry us to the next destination, our backs continued to bend. Never before had I felt so inspired. I was a passive person experiencing purely willful activism. What had I been missing for so long? This feeling of purpose, of direction, and of utter competition was so spectacular. Whether or not success would reward my efforts meant nothing.

Our dam may have built a pool more than two feet deep from a starting flow of only three inches, but it did not stop the current. The walls were strong, but always needed repairs. Water flowed through cracks we could not fill. There had never been a fight.

Spring will come and new waters will rush down. They will crush our dam if it even has the strength to endure for that long. They will leave no traces of our work, our pain, our joy. They will be merciless, indiscriminating, and righteous.

We could work all our lives trying to stop that which is inevitable; the river is going to keep pushing through. Should that mean there is no hope in trying? Never. Never should we simply give up because we cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, but maybe it does mean that we should start living differently. Maybe living isn’t about who can make the best wall, maybe it is about learning to love the water. Perhaps it is more than buckets of sand and piles of rocks, perhaps it is learning to swim.

That week I learned that you can make a dam in a river, and you can make a dam out of your life, but it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference; the water – the flow of life, is always going to find a way through. Now I can see the people scrambling about, forever trying to build their walls higher and stronger until they just run out of supplies. They hide.

Grab a tube and float on down, because we all end up at the same place downriver no matter how thick your walls are anyway; why not enjoy the voyage?

[Gamerbird]

oo Thats good!

Well done Armaggedon!

 

I am glad to hear my writing inspired you.

[wasder]

Absolutely splendiferous. A beautiful peice of writing, I would love to see more of your work. :biggrin: :thanks: :thumbsup: :smile: :cool:

[armageddon818]

Wow, thanks! :biggrin: When I get the chance I'll try putting some new things up. Great job to both of you too!

[keylek3]

WHY DONT YOU PUT IT IN YOUR MOD AS A BOOK? IT WOULD HEAR VERY GOOD in your mod. like you should not waste you tallent, so i think you should extened the story into your mod because this story would hear very good in it. and i think it is really good. keep the good work coming.

[dezdimona]

excellent,thank you for allowing us to read it

[armageddon818]

Thanks, I think it is a little too modern though for a book in my ancient ice city though hahahahaha. I wish i had time to write some new stuff! >.<

[wasder]

You could edit it and put it your mod. Your writing is very very good, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to show it off in the mod. It shouldn't be hard to make it less modern

[armageddon818]

yeah, but i'd rather write something completely new than redo something that was already something that i like the way it is you know? It would just be bettter to write something new especially about the mod than something else "fit" to it. Thanks fo everyone's advice though, I'll probably make time for it!

[XanAlderon]

THAT....WAS....FANTASTIC!!!!!

 

you are a superb writer!