Rise From The Mud & Shine From The Sun

Rise from the Mud & Shine from the Sun

A Short Story

Written by Matt Scarpelli

This book is dedicated to my mother and father who gave me the nourishment, love and opportunity to grow as a child, enabling me to become the man and writer I am. I lived on my own from 19 onward, so struggles ensued, but good people along the way made the bad people and situations seem petty. I struggled along the way and went through alcoholism, mental health issues, but my mother was always there for me when I called, and for that I am grateful beyond words. I was defrauded of my past, but these books gave me hope for the future. They offered redemption. I hope you like reading this one!

Thank you and God bless!

There is no table of contents, or chapters, it’s one story.

Enjoy!

Rise from the Mud & Shine from the Sun

First Edition

Copyright © 2022 by Matthew S. Scarpelli

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, photography, video, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

This book is merely for entertainment purposes. It is a work of fiction. The storyline, along with names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The characters opinions & views expressed in the book are those of the characters only and do not necessarily reflect or represent the views and opinions held by individuals on which those characters are based. Any facts or realities are used to support the stories fiction. At no point is offense intended unto or against anyone in real life, be it race, creed, color, sex, culture or any belief.

ISBN: 9798833103548

Logo Graphic By: riyaart09

It was a cold, wet and rainy day. Gloomy grey skies blocked the sun’s light, letting only a dim bit through. He wanted to leave his tiny apartment and the winter hibernation, but the weather was still not right. A hike in nature, in a forest along the river was what he desired. Only he felt the need for somewhere warmer, palm trees and blue skies. A hungry stomach & little food to eat, he prepared to make his way out to the exterior. Fur lined boots and a cotton toque to wear with his black jacket. Hesitating to go outside, he decided to trek out into the cold. Having been in solitude, lonely and using the time cooped up inside he wrote a book. A science fiction fantasy, to creatively escape the mundane & repetitive days of a cold harsh winter, kept inside. Candlelight often the only fire warmth in the room.

He used his spare time to write in his journals and a few books he was working on. He had no money to market them, only pen and paper to write them.

A Construction worker by trade, he was laid off work from a high-rise apartment project after someone failed to properly install the fourth floor safety railing. Unloading material from a mobile-crane, he had to lean over the edge and the railing went over, him nearly with it to his possible doom. He complained, pointing out the dangers and safety flaws but was abruptly laid off/fired. His first winter spent inside not working in the cold. Not the worst, but unemployment insurance was half his regular pay check. Not that his apartment isn’t also awful and cold. He struggled to pay his bills and get by.

He worked multiple construction jobs in his life, becoming a versatile worker but it didn’t get him paid enough to save money. He had an education to be a supervisor or project manager, but lost that job working for his father and was back on the tools, working concrete construction.

Starting early mornings before the sun would rise, and often going home when the sun was setting. Yet he still didn’t make enough money to save. It was hard back-breaking work, in dirty conditions under stressful circumstances and for rushing employers. He was doing basement house foundations to start, than quickly moved up from individual single-detached homes to 5-6 unit condos. Having the entire buildings units formed up and concrete poured in a week. He had his pickup truck, but was struggling to make the insurance and maintenance repair bills. His credit card debt was drowning him and hurting him the most. He had been good at budgeting, but life didn’t budget for him and threw him many curve balls.

Some of the co-workers were fun and good to get along with, others had heavy drinking and drug problems that went ignored on site. It caused a lot of dysfunction and trouble on the jobsite, his foreman was a yelling-mean-drunk-man who didn’t make his job pleasant or easy. It’s as if some people would rather things be more difficult, a strange mentality. He was the mule doing all the hard work, while many stood and smoked cigarettes and watched him slave away. He would wear earplugs to protect his hearing and avoid the nuisance noises, but would be yelled at to take them out so he could be yelled at more. The job was dangerous and often unsafe, safety protocols were never taken into consideration. Just get the job done, and get it done fast was the company motto.

Before and after work, he would use his time to write as much as he could. In his journals or his books. It was a slow process, letter by letter, word by word. But he wanted to accomplish it and become an author, against all odds. He knew if he persevered and continued to write, something would come of it. At times in his journal, he would free-write everything that came to mind, to release his thoughts. His books were the toughest undertaking of writing he had ever done. He had to read other books just to figure out how to write his. It was a learning process, but he was a fast learner and like construction was able to pick things up quick.

A Sparkle of Light was his most prized written project, but others kept bouncing in between including Brain Virus which seemed like a cool science-fiction he had to also write and get published. When the river of thoughts flow, you have to go with it and write as much as possible. He put A Sparkle of Light into two notebooks, preparing to narrow them down into a single book. It was a process that couldn’t be rushed or done overnight. It was his life story and he needed to perfect it. Loneliness at home in his bare apartment made things difficult to motivate him.

He was single, a loner, a loser. He once had hundreds of friends, now he had next to none. His solitude and pursuit of success left him abandoned by everyone he loved and knew. He hadn’t even had a girlfriend in a decade, other than a few short flings. He was the guy you looked at, and said he looks like he could be cool, but he’ll probably be alone and a failure. Living alone, without even a dog or cat, other tenants with family and friends looked down on him as a strange alien. He had his mind set, and that was on building the foundation of his life before he spent time on anything else. He had enjoyed his youth, but since 19 he was on a course of destiny, even if it meant failing over and over, he knew they were lessons and one day he would succeed.

He saw his friends getting married, buying houses, having kids. And yet, he was a homeless homebuilder in a large amount of debt. To him, it made no sense. He didn’t gamble or squander his money, he was defrauded by his own family. They were buying fancy toys, nice cares, motorcycles, hot tubs, and he could barely pay rent.

Holding out hope for better days, he refused to give up. Laid off, he kept looking for work or working on his own projects. Working in the only way alone he could, researching, reading, and writing. Following his dreams, no matter how many times he got knocked down, injured, or set back. In pursuit of destiny. The destiny he saw as Hollywood, but told few about since they told him it was impossible and he had no chance. So he kept his dreams a secret, and wrote his books in private.

Few friends in his life, none that visited. They only called when they needed something. The only one is a neighbor across the hall. A good guy who he could escape his apartment from, to go to a similar one. His family didn’t call or visit, his relatives wouldn’t recognize his voice. Failed, they abandoned him. Rock bottom, deep in debt from being defrauded of his home and more, he’s felt hopeless. Often, but life’s Sparkle of Light kept him going.

Five years he paid his father rent-to-own-mortgage on a home. While working for him as his project manager running two residential subdivisions and managing two 4-story low-rise apartments. When he wanted to cash out, and move out west to B.C., his father got enraged. Kicked him out of the home and fired him with no severance or vested interest payment from the company. He was given nothing. Not even government assistance, no support or help. Left alone, abandoned. He used his credit card to survive and get by, racking up ridiculous amounts of debt.

Preparing to move from the home to a small apartment, he packed his bags and boxed his belongings. So many years of hard work, unappreciated and destroyed. Flashbacks and memories of life and family filled his mind as he packed everything up and got ready to move out of his home.

In the garage, suicidal thoughts came to mind, he fell to his knees and prayed to God. A Sparkle of Light from a speck of debris on the grey concrete floor, shimmered a sign of hope. This wasn’t the first time he’d been screwed over. He spent two years homeless couch surfing in college and afterwards, sleeping in his vehicle and starving to survive. His father did that to him before, and now he did it again.

In college, for construction, his real dream was filmmaking. To be a famous filmmaker. Unable to do it alone, without a home or office. Especially after his computer crashed, he made the decision to partner with a company owned by a guy two years older than him. That partnership turned out to be a lie, he was tricked and defrauded. Again left with nothing but debt from working. But that would not be his end. His head was held low, but he kept on striving to succeed. Another way, without breaking the law. He knew, eventually all the failures and lessons would lead to something good, something better. Falling to alcohol and drugs in depression, his friend died, but he came out alive.

He had an entire class of males, over 300 started and only 36 graduated. He was one of the lucky ones to get his certificate and diploma. He struggled in school, working three jobs to pay the bills and get by, on top of working filmmaking for free in pursuit of his dreams.

Years later, while working for his father again, he had a spontaneous pneumothorax at work, in which his right lung collapsed on a jobsite. Working for his father, his dad told him to go to the hospital on his own time, there was too much work to do. Five-to-six hours later, he collapsed in front of the house framer in the sandy dirt. No one called him an ambulance, he drove himself to the hospital while nearly dying. Asking for a cup of water when he entered the emergency room, he collapsed and had emergency surgery. His father came in later berating him, blaming him for smoking weed as the cause. An unproven accusation, from a man who smoked cigarettes all his life.

One year later, that same framer was sadly killed on his motorcycle in collision. Through the darkness, he saw the light. Gratitude for life, as he’s always been and felt. Even during hell. His conscience was clean & clear, so he followed his heart, writing in his journals to release the thoughts on his mind. With no one to read or publish the book he was also writing, it stayed on a table until he could self-publish it himself.

Facing eviction, three months behind on rent, he had to go back to his mother who he hadn’t seen in two years and ask her for help, for money. She paid his rent, and he survived another day, avoiding the streets. She was an angel, and provided the funds. They had a tough relationship, but she proved what being a mother was. Always being there for your offspring. No matter the age, we are not animals. We are humans. Kings and queens built empires by family, feuds within, but none-the-less family. For modern people to abandon family, make them do it all alone is unjust and unethical. It destroys the love and family within the person. It breaks them down like it did to him. It creates a future dysfunctional person or family, only transmuting the errors can things be corrected going forwarded. A task not easy, but a must if society and humanity is to improve and heal. To heal the planet, we must heal ourselves.

His apartment was far from the best, but not the worst. Outdated, old and with lots of broken things even ants and cockroaches would be seen crawling around. His neighbor, a friend across the hall asked him for a favor. A ride over an hour away, so he could visit his father. He agreed, even with his anxiety and lack of recent highway driving. Small car wobbling in the cold strong winds, causing his anxiety to sore.

He just wanted to be back home, even though his apartment was far from appealing. It was at least home, and had everything of his within it. Ants crawled through the tiny holes in the wall and a few cockroaches would appear, but it was an apartment, not the worst, better than most in the world if you considered the third world countries. So he tried to be as grateful as could be, but paying so much rent for such a bad place was difficult to do and accept. His finances were wearing thinner and thinner by the day, and he was getting skinner and skinnier.

They stopped at a highway gas station and rest stop, he got some food on his low budget, but it’s never enough for his hungry stomach, a bottomless pit.

Cars whizzing by 30km over the speed limit and cutting him off, caused lots of anxiety while he drove in his small 12 year old car. With the sun setting, multiple murmuration of birds continuously flew by, good omens. Then a soaring bald eagle came into view, owning the sky. A store nearby said “Folklore”. As they reached exit 222, back home, thankfully, safe and sound.

He spent two years collecting feathers, rocks, rock crystals and shells. He turned it into a beautiful art piece.

The next day he packaged up the natural art piece he made for a woman he once loved in high school, but still cared about and talked to occasionally. A tree wedge, with rocks, rock crystals, seashells, fossil, snail shell, acorns, pinecone to decorate it. Along with a cardinal, blue jay, raven, sand-piper, goose and blue heron feather. He protected it by building a wooden box to put the gift in, than he wrapped it in shiny purple gift wrap and placed it in a cardboard box. A murmuration of birds flew overhead as went to his car with the box in hand to the post office. He shipped the package to Kayla. He wanted to move out west, to B.C. There’s no place like home, where you’re born and raised, you miss it when you leave, the good and bad. But you have to fly the coup and travel to where the heart desires. California dreaming. B.C. was close to California, which would get him closer to his dreams.

To be with great minds and people who could influence positive change in the world. Pacing his apartment, needing a solution, he finally got it in the form of pills. To deal with his anxiety, he got a prescription from his doctor. A way to stop drinking and smoking so much. The racing thoughts in his mind needed to slow, as being unemployed he had too much time on his hands. The in-between publishing, and no sales, was boredom.

California seemed to have it all, the industry, the people, the clubs, organizations and groups that could make a difference in the world.

He was used to working construction, hard manual labor, long hours, often in the thick of mud, as the sun shone down in summer or winter or it rained or snowed. Either sweating or freezing, the job was rarely pleasant. He was clean and comfortable at home, but he needed his book published so he could move forward with life. Working at one of his last jobs, across from a community center that had a library at the front. Seeing books on display in the window inspired him, he wanted his book there. Or at least in a library or bookstore somewhere! The crane operator had tattoos on his fingers that spelt bookworm. An odd synchronicity, especially for construction and tough workers. Not the normal tattoo, compared to others with skulls and bones.

He had to work very hard to maintain his job, lifting heavy steel and forming up tall walls up to twenty feet in height. It was dangerous work, not for the faint of heart. Coming from a home building background, now in high-rise, many workers knew his father and business and mocked him. They teased him and said he would never be good enough.

Some co-workers told him he’s stuck in construction forever, to get used to it. He refused to believe it, nor was he going to let that happen. He had to find a way out, and writing seemed the method. That was before he was laid off. Stuck at home cooped up in a tiny apartment with little too do, his TV broke so all he could do was write.

At a job interview, with twenty other candidates, he was hired. He’d be a logger in the mountains out west. A tough job, in nature before its destroyed. At least he made it close to where he wanted to be, the west coast. This stoked his passion and reignited the flame in his soul, he would be able to escape Ontario a place he loved but wanted to leave.

Machines cut and removed the trees, as he sorted them and loaded them onto trucks using another machine with a grabber. The mountain hillside provided spectacular views. Birds flew in poetic distant form. The sunlight shined bright and ignited the shadowy ground.

Yelling echoed in the distance reverberated back. Sounds of repetition repeated. He looked at the time from his silver watch, 11:12am. So many hours left in the day. So many days before he could publish his book. He’s filling the time in-between, and it’s far from enjoyable. Marketing the book later, without money would be a big challenge. Legally, he has little options to make money and get ahead. Multiple jobs before paid the bills, but left no savings. He’s living check-to-check scraping by.

Ideas for his book came to mind while working, he wanted to abandon his post and race to write. Pen to paper was his passion. The ups and downs of writing, positive vibes than blockage & negative self reflection. Shake the bad thoughts & maintain focus on the end goal, he thought to himself. His perseverance was unmatched. Many construction workers and loggers gave up on the first day or didn’t last long. He continued to risk his life and work hard, for a better tomorrow.

Co-workers suggested they go for a canoe ride down steam, it sounded like a fun adventure so he joined in. The fresh air filled his nostrils as water splashed around. Total freedom it felt, nothing to stop them, just steady gliding down the water. A great blue heron stood still as if it were a beautiful statue. They fished and caught their dinner. Drinking a few beers and then had a cookout along the shore. Steak and fish they ate and feasted on. What could be better, then living off the land and having no one to tell you what to do or how to do it. The warmth of the fire was a lively energy. There was no city noise, no disturbances, just the serene sound and beauty of nature. He felt he could live there in a log cabin and be happy, if only he could eat fish more often, something his taste buds were not too fond off. He chose the steak for his meal. Catching fish, even for dinner seemed cruel. Then he thought about his steak, and how it was not much different. Eating meat, required a sacrifice of nature and animals, he wished he didn’t have to eat at all. Other animals hunt and forage, but for some reason to his human mind it seemed like they needed to evolve differently. Find a new way to eat and survive off a different source of food. Mass ocean fishing was already causing a depletion and damage to the fish and ecosystem.

There’s just not enough free gorgeous mountainous land for everyone, that’s why people are crammed in cities. It’s a place to work, live and be, without disturbing nature. Yet, to sustain the cities, they were destroying nature. Something had to change, yet who was he to say, think or do anything of such magnitude?

The world needed to change, but he was an ant in a giant planet with little influence.

Arriving home, he got his mail. He was sent a government rebate of $190, grateful, he opened a second letter being from the government, it demanded a debt payment of $2,000. A slap in the face. He was already drowning in debt, now he was being forced to pay money he knew he didn’t owe. In fact they owed him for years of non-payment he was defrauded of. It was an error, but after 6 hours on the phone, being transferred and calling different numbers, no help was offered. They wanted the money and they were gonna take it no matter what, whether he actually owed it or not. An unfair unjust system, crushing the hard-working citizens. Stepping on him when he was already down. His hopes and dreams were taking a beating. How would he repay such a debt, when he was already paying off debt and barely getting by? He needed a miracle, a financial miracle! He didn’t want to give up on life and just die, he had to survive and find the money to pay the pirates.

He refused to give up or surrender, he maintained a slow but steady pace forward. He had taken out a line of credit of $2,500 to get the job and move, he was in debt up to his neck and he needed help or his book to be a big success. Depressed and stressed out, he relapsed to spending money he couldn’t afford, on alcohol and drugs to cope during a two-day binge. His rich father, didn’t care that he owed his son money, he didn’t care that his son starved, struggled and had a broken mind. His father had everything he needed, so much so he easily ignored his own sons sad situation.

His money for the book cover designer was used up partially, and now he would need to further delay his books publishing. Broke and near hopeless, he hung on & attempted to climb the mountain of success during a treacherous storm and all odds against him. In the middle of the night, a loud nock was repeated for many minutes until it awoke him. The knocking sounded like banging, and it continued until he opened the door. An angry woman stood, looking drunk and wobbly. “I’m looking for my aunt” she stated. Yet he lived alone, he surely wasn’t her aunt and she should know more about where she was headed and why she was knocking. Her belligerent self demanded her aunt was inside, but comically he said “no there is no aunts with a u, only ants that creep and crawl” and he slammed the door shut. She knocked again and again until he would open the door. So he did and had no choice but to tell her off, till she walked away. Wide awake, having to be up in a few hours, he was now unhappy and filled with anxiety. People make mistakes, but that was an obnoxious one.

He went to his table, opened his book and began to scribble down thoughts in his journal. A way to release the swirling thoughts in his mind. He had written over 30 journals in his lifetime, all kept in boxes that no one else read. He would draw symbols on and within his notebooks and the military boxes that secured his journals. They were safe, but unread by other eyes.

To the world, he was no writer or author, he grew up with a hammer in his hand. Only a pen in school did he really use one. Journaling was the only other time. But the magic of writing & calligraphy captivated him like abracadabra. Spelling spells of words & phrases. Putting thought into the real world. He dreamed of someone wanting to read his book it becoming a big success. Then publishing the others for people to read and love. He wanted all his books to be a success. He was sick and tired of failure. Fed up with being broke, in debt, living pay-check to pay-check.

He wrote and wrote and until he got closer to the end of his books. A unique writing style he had, he didn’t want to sacrifice it and adapt to others way of literature. He wanted to keep his words the way they were, and speak his mind the way he felt so. His proof-reader tried to change his style, but he focused on the grammar, spelling errors and punctuation the most.

Sometimes, when you’re in darkness, is the time you see the light. It’s like being planted in the ground as a seed, you just need to grow. To rise from the mud & shine from the sun!

Putting the tools down and picking up the pen was his true heart’s desire. Anything else felt like slavery. A slow passing of the clock. Tick tock, tick tock. Only fun and love pass the time passionately with ease and joy. Otherwise a day seems like a week, and not in a good way or place to stretch the time.

He had to manifest that life, career and freedom. Somehow, someway, at all and any cost. Life was nothing anyway else to him. Liberty of literature is what he wanted. Freedom to write at his own will, anytime any day. His voracious appetite to read and write consumed more than the food he ate. Unable to stop his eyes from analyzing the page or his hand crafting words on paper at a fast rate of speed. Too quick to be neat and tidy. The thoughts must be recorded before they’re forgotten. Alone with a candle, paper & pen he felt most at comfort & pleasantry. Even using an old fashioned quill and ink to write in an ancient way, was something special compared to a regular pen. There was magic to it. He even had a wax seal to use to stamp letters and pages. Making him feel, like a real writer.

No yelling, loud machines, rushing mean boss to demand a quicker job completion. No stress when to finish, other than the importance of monetizing his book and using the money to fund his life and freedom. Travel and write, explore and story tell. He wanted a different life than the current one, the boring mundane depressing one. He was stuck in a cycle going round and round and he couldn’t get out no matter how hard he tried. It seemed, he only dug deeper and deeper in debt or depression. What happened to work hard and be rewarded? He was working twice as hard as the person next to him, even if the man had a wife and support system. He knew he was alone and he had to prove everyone else wrong, not for his ego, but to get that petty raise or slightly better job position.

Happiness, is only gained when ones free and able to live, work, play and grow without restriction or oppression. The human soul needs it.

Work hard.

Don’t give up.

Let it be.

See it so.

Make it real.

Help it happen.

Feel the light & warmth.

Hug the energy of the earth.

Hold the flower of beauty.

Water the tree of life.

Protect the wildlife.

Heal the planet.

Rise from the mud.

Shine from the Sun.

Be alive.

On his computer, he found a two-part guidebook he wrote for construction home building years ago after hours while working for his father as his project manager. He tried to be the perfect son, do the best job, go above and beyond, but it was never enough. His dad always wanted more and more, increasing the workload and adding additional pressure. He had no real help, only untrained inexperienced workers under him. They were unruly and disobedient, not liking to listen or follow orders. He made the guidebook to make his own life easier, and help the workers. They refused to read it and it gathered dust. So he did nothing further with it, until recently getting the idea of putting the two parts together into a single guidebook and publishing it. It was a shot in the dark, a random idea but it was a way to practise publishing and get his first book out there into the world! Using six years of writing the book, 22 years experience in construction and building 54 houses he thought what the heck, people could berate his knowledge but if he publishes the book he at least establishes his position in the industry. He made his own simple cover and after five quick edits of the guidebook. So he did it, and it published online within 24 hours! It had a spelling error in the description, so he fixed it and sat back proud at something he did that seemed so different from everything else, he published a book. He wanted out of construction, and this book if lucky and successful, would fund his escape by using his knowledge of construction to be sold into a guidebook. It was a crazy idea at first, but once it was done and for sale, it felt like a great idea.

Now he needed sales!

No money to market it, he sent it to a few construction magazines and accepted the fact it could be a while before it was even noticed or a copy gets sold.

His eating disorder from eating so late or missing meals had taken a toll on his body. He needed to escape the daily rat race, hard work jobs and heal his mind and body – including his soul. His main book, and other books kept coming to mind as his ticket to freedom. He had to get them published and to sell. He was never a salesman, but he came to realize that everyone is always selling something. Selling their friendship, their product, their service, their time, their conversation. Every interaction is a sales pitch, can you convince the other person to care and listen? The same went for his book, can the cover sell itself? Probably not. Could the book sell itself, not alone, not yet! Could he sell the book, he could try but he had no marketing platform. All he could do, was publish it, and let it be, let it sit there and hope it was found by those searching for the knowledge. He couldn’t look for them, they had to look for his book.

His life hung in the balance and mercy of the universe. He quit and recovered from drug and alcohol addiction, but relapsed at times. His hard work and perseverance could only took him so far, he needed a miracle. Loving yourself isn’t easy, and he found that out the long hard way. He had no family support, and was screwed over and defrauded by his father and his home building business. Promised that the rent he paid, was going to a rent-to-own-mortgage on the home, but when home prices doubled, he reneged on the deal. An argument ensued and he was kicked out of his home, fired, not given severance or vested interested. He had worked for his father since the age of 10, 17 years. No unemployment insurance, he used his credit card to survive. Sometimes there is no unconditional love from family, it’s just you on your own in the world.

Left with nothing but debt, he lost his job, money and home all at once. A sparkle of light saved his life during a moment of suicidal thinking. A microscopic grain of metallic light reflected glimmering hope, for his water eyes to see.

The universe was there, knew the truth and wanted to comfort him, show him it loved him. He got up off his knees and thanked God for the little shining star of hope. Sometimes that’s all we need, is a little sign or omen of positivity. A feather, synchronicity, or a sparkle of light.

He knew he had now seen the light, in its mysterious way & form. A million sparkles of light he had seen, but that single one seemed divine. At his lowest pointed, it helped him regain hope. Rising like a phoenix from the ashes, he knew the universe was on his side.

His father and his associates could destroy his construction career, but not his life. Bigger things awaited ahead and he knew it. Only he had no plan or idea truly of what it would be. Writing was all he could do it seemed.

Spontaneously he booked two trips, to save his heart and soul. Havana, Cuba & Arenal, Costa Rica. Debt and credit limit caused him to cancel his dream volcanoe vacation to Costa Rica. Paying cancellation fees in the process. He asked a few pretty nice woman to accompany him to Cuba, but all refused. He decided he would go alone. He needed to save his money, but he also had to save his life, and this vacation was gonna be what he needed, an escape.

In Cuba, the sun found him right away as he stepped off the plane onto the tarmac. The Cubans were welcoming like friends. If only he had more money to donate and tip, he felt helpless as a tourist on a low budget. A Canadian on vacation alone, in search of his souls passion and liberty.

The first night he walked alone in the partially lit dark streets. Stray dogs and cats roamed around under the bright moon. A single bar, with lights and music had a group of men and a young 18-19 year old woman serving them and talking with them. They hollered at him as he walked by, for him to join them for drinks. At ease, he did so and shared smiles and laughter with his new found friends. He used an app on his phone, to translate languages from Spanish to English so they could converse. After a few drinks, the woman offered to join him back at his hotel. The amigos cheered him on. They walked there passing graffiti on the wall that said Ti Amo. Staying at the prestigious Hotel Nacional, unaware she was a prostitute until she demanded $100 in money, and then later stole an extra $40 from his wallet. The dark skinned woman and him had consensual sex and then he walked her back home.

The hotel was going to charge him more money for having an extra guest over the night, but seeing his chivalry in walking her home, they cancelled the extra fee. Good, since he was broke and barely had enough money as it was. He felt so relaxed and at ease, happy to be away from home and the troubles that were there and on his mind. It’s as if he left it all behind.

Beautiful Cuba made the worries dissipate for the time being. Seeing a black man fishing, he approached to watch. The guy was catching dinner, which he was successful at. Quickly they began to talk and become friends. He gave him a red I Am Canadian t-shirt from his backpack as a gift to the fisherman. He was overjoyed and put it on immediately. Suggesting they get Mojitos from a local bar, the two made their way there under the glorious burning bright sun. Feeling in good company, he took many photographs of the wonderful Havana along the way. The Mojito’s hit the spot, in a quiet air conditioned bar with a few quests, they treated them with great kind hospitality.

The fisherman asked if he would like some famous Cuban cigars. Deciding it wouldn’t be the worst idea to get some, he agreed. The man took him to his friends home, a gentleman named Maykel. He gave him a pair of black sunglasses in a kind gesture, as he had no money on him for cigars. Maykal smiled back with his golden teeth creating sparkles of light. Wearing all white for African Cuban religious reasons. The box was large and cost $100, Maykel told him to take it and pay him tomorrow, & they’ll come to the hotel. Feeling like they were good guys and no harm would come, he accepted the cigars.

They came the next day to the hotel as agreed, to collect the $100 which he paid without a problem. Then the three of them went for burgers at a restaurant within the hotel. Talking about communism and democracy. Being depressed, broke, but still able to travel to Cuba, made his problems seem petty & democracy seem great. Definitely in need of modernization that’s for sure. A huge overhaul of the system and update for the citizens and to manage migration better.

Countries need to grow & be sustainable, not overpopulated and in turmoil or dysfunctional. We need order in the world.

Maykel drove a blue chromed out motorcycle and offered to become the man’s chauffeur. All he had to do was pay for gas. A fair deal! Zipping around town was a mesmerizing and fun experience. At night, they took him deep into the local population and poorer areas. Wood huts, but great loving friendly people. A Military truck drove by and patrolled the area, but did not impede on the tourists journey. With a dozen soldiers in the back, they seemed more amazed a Canadian was that deep alone at night with the locals. They fed him the best chicken and bean dinner and even provided a cold beer as disco lights lit up the wooden hut. Creating colorful sparkles of light. They all danced and enjoyed the evening to the fullest. With very little to no commodities.

In life, it helps to be in a good place, but it’s the people your with that influence and count the most. Stick around good people!

Stars and planets filled the sky that had a crescent moon reflecting the suns light. Taken to a parking lot with taxi’s, the locals he was with demanded a cab take him directly home to the Hotel Nacional. Staying at the prestigious hotel, helped his security situation. They were stopped at a military checkpoint, and let through. He got home safe and sound to the beautiful hotel with palm trees. To the smile of the doorman & Cuban’s inside who seemed amazed at how happy and alone he was. Even though inside, he truly was sad and depressed. His face revealed a big smile of joy and freedom. Knowing it would be short-lived. The vacation would soon come to an end, and he would have to return home to face the facts and realities of his dire situation.

A Sparkle of Light was what he wanted to write. But at the time, it was manifesting itself through reality for him to see and record it’s phenomenon.

He opened the blinds and let a burst of bright light into his lonely hotel room, “rise and shine” he said aloud to himself the next morning. A sun with a cornucopia symbol was engraved at the top of the hotel in its stone. A symbol of abundance.

A dozen black Mercedes showed up the next morning. A president from Africa and his delegation had arrived for a meeting at the prestigious hotel. He was in the presence of greatness, while at his lowest. At a great hotel, to get a glorious fresh start and rebound back at life. He wanted to see the meeting held in the banquet hall, but refrained from intruding.

A weed smoker, he had difficulty adjusting to a sudden stop in inhaling. Not having any or being allowed to in Cuba, he substituted for tobacco and smoked the cigars. They did a half good job in easing his anxiety. People’s preferences & usage of substances depends on their unique body, mind & being.

Outside, a retro classic blue car awaited with a driver. The amigo hollered at him to approach so he did. He offered him a tour of the city in style. He accepted, with the wind blowing through his hair from the open convertible top. Sun reflecting off his sunglasses, getting a tan he felt as good as could be. Driven around like royalty.

They stopped at a monument center of Che Guevara and then later at a restaurant that had pictures of famous people who had eaten there, including recently Arnold Schwarzenegger. He felt so good to be treated so well, in such a warm beautiful inviting place. The food was very fancy, a bit too much for his simple taste buds.

At an ATM machine, he was able to withdraw $280. But his credit card strip broke, than his debit card strip broke. Both his forms of financial payment had been destroyed. He was on to his last dollars. For caution, he put $20 in his right foots sock.

At night, the hotel manager took him to a disco not far from the hotel where he met two woman drinking. They invited him to join as they were locals and saw he was a tourist not from around the area. They were beautiful young woman 18-20 years old, the hotel manager’s friend arrived and turned out to be a perfect English translator which made conversations very simple. They drank Mojitos and danced until he was sweaty and needed to clean up in the washroom. The hotel manager suggested they drive around and pick up two girls waiting, he wanted to stay with the current two but for some reason let the decision be made to move on. A man who loves woman, it felt wrong and unfair to leave them, but life is life and situations unfold the way they do sometimes. Not far away, driving they found the two awaiting woman who jumped in the car, one on his lap. Suddenly, police flashing lights behind lit up the dark street. They had been pulled over. Anxiety filled his body, in a foreign country, what had he done wrong, what was going to happen next. The manager got out, spoke with the cops and without a bribe, they were let go on their way peacefully. Taken to a 3-story colonial building attached to others, a large steel door let him in and up a long flight of stairs to the main floor. A woman in a pink dress greeted him, it was a brothel he discovered. Two 18-19 year old woman offered their service for $100 each, he agreed. Being alone, depressed and in search of life and love he wanted to feel affection, to feel anything! Even if it meant buying temporary synthetic love.

The woman in the pink dress locked the door behind, thinking it was a trap and feeling nervous, the women eased his tension. Afterwards, the door was unlocked and he was let go. Money makes the world economy function and flourish.

He left his hat behind, as he made his way back to the awaiting vehicle with his two amigos. He arrived back at the hotel at 3am, his flight was to depart Cuba at 11am. He went to bed, awoke, cleaned the hotel room immaculately and packed his bags. Using his last $20 to make it in a cab to the airport.

Arriving home back in Canada, felt so good. A wonderful feeling, leaving your home country and then returning. The gratitude you feel is tremendous. He appreciated all the wonderful amenities and advancements of modern civilization. The first thing he did was smoke a bowl of cannabis when he got to his apartment. A sigh of relief as stress was removed and he felt at ease.

The hospitals, the police force, the roads, the infrastructure was so much more advanced. He was blessed to be a Canadian citizen and able to return home to the wonderful country of Canada.

A Sparkle of Light, adventure to Cuba was complete! More of the story he could than write. Closer to the end! His life story, to be written, finished and published! He uploaded all his photos to his computer when he got home, than dropped a bit of LSD as a micro-dose. He began writing about his adventure and the mysterious miracles and fun that occurred.

More than a story or book, this was light itself, in literature form. It’s the manifestation of it all. Into letters, numbers, symbols, omens, words, phrases, sentences and the book. It’s the universe talking through a human hand.

A chosen peasant given the gift of writing. To write what others fear, hate, ignore, don’t understand, won’t believe, can’t see, don’t know and wonder if it be. For its truth, like Toth. Written without bias. The broken man had no influence but the universe & soul within, was his inspiration to continue. A compass, pointing to where his life’s to be best lived. For him, out west, B.C. British Columbia. Mountains, lakes, rivers & valleys. A place he can’t find around his current location. Is the grass greener? Sometimes, that’s why animals migrate to greener pastures.

Making a mistake, he began drinking heavily again, bottles of wine. He had a mental breakdown and sent over fifty awful emails to his father. The police showed up in the middle of the night and detained him, taking him to the hospital to be assessed and held under the Mental Health Act. He screwed up, and now he was taken away from writing. Locked in a concrete block room with graffiti, he got so bored he cleaned the doors spotless. The guards noticed and let him be moved to a different ward where he could walk around the open area that had locked doors preventing anyone from leaving.

He asked for a pen and paper, and managed to continue brainstorming ideas and writing his book while locked up. After eight and a half days he was released and free. The feeling was exuberating. To feel the sun and fresh air, was something so simply but refreshing. A form of freedom was given back to him.

There comes a time in a person’s life, when they must make a decision.

What do they want.

What do they need.

Where do they want to be.

What do they want to do.

Who do they want to be.

Your choice to decide.

Finding on his computer that unpublished book of his from years ago, was like finding gold. Six years it took to write, 22 years of experience working on a jobsite since he was 10 years old. 54+ houses built as a project manager. A test book to publish, a potentially good guidebook for homebuilding in Ontario. He used his life’s knowledge to put together a guidebook that could help anyone build a house as long as they followed the local building codes and health and safety regulations. He felt proud to be only 31, and to have written such a detailed and helpful book. He didn’t want to work construction anymore, and if lucky, this book would pay enough for him to escape the daily hard labor jobs. Most people are stuck at a job they don’t enjoy, since he was 10 years old he knew he had to find an escape somehow. Yet he had no teacher or mentor to help him. His father only handed him a shovel and a hammer and said get to work. This book he wrote, was something special.

“How To Build A House In Ontario”

Construction Home Building Single Detached Residential Houses

Putting down the pen, is like holding his breath. He must write until all is complete, whatever it may be or say. Destiny awaits. The pen is more powerful than the sword. So he wields it like an artist who scribbles and scratches to make words appear.

Abracadabra

His book began to get noticed. An amateur they called him, but now he’s the expert who wrote the book, set the tone. Book published, no success, he drank wine and smoked cannabis & tobacco to ease his body and mind. Everyone needs something.

Music is the background to his life, be it real or natural. Birds singing in the morning, day or evening. He went on a hike, no dog. Realized without a published book and enough income, he’s treading water and just wandering. He needed his book to be bought by lots and fund his life and future. To go on a hike knowing he’s working, being paid. Then maybe he could afford a dog, a companion. Without money there’s no fuel. A car without gasoline or electricity.

He put his pen back to the paper and narrowed down the remaining work to be done on Brain Virus, his super-book.

To make him a superstar.

Gotta be good, gotta be great, gotta perfect what he can. Mass release and global success is his dream! He wanted to fund his Cuban friend and families migration to Canada or America. But broke, he can’t afford food or rent enough for himself. These books needed to be miracles, instant successes. Money making machines.

Dreaming.

He can’t help the world, or anyone else if he can’t help himself.

No theft.

No greed.

He worked for hopes and dreams.

Destiny awaited.

His home building book caught the attention of many, including colleges and homebuilders. Even do-it-yourself people who wanted to learn how to build a house themselves bought the book. Companies were buying them for their workers and training. One week, he sold 283 copies of print versions, earning $6,252.04! He had finally done it! Sold enough to survive, and more than enough to quit his day job. Finally able to become a full-time writer!

His dreams had come true. All the depressed, suicidal thoughts, on his knees praying had paid off. His success arrived and it was only the start.

He e-mailed 500 news reporters, bloggers & popular reviewers his super-book Brain Virus, eBook for free. Only five responded, one person was so kind as to submit his book as a contestant for a science-fiction award in America. Aiming to self-publish online, he had the characters & graphic arts created for the book cover and promotion. Then he saved his money from unemployment and hired an English teacher to proofread the book. He found an excellent artist in Germany that did book covers, so he contacted her to do his. She did an excellent job, it turned out great.

His confidence grew as he prepared to publish the book himself. He read fifteen other books to enlighten his mind, perfect his craft and execute his plan. Easier than he thought, the book was self-published online, available to the world. The hardest part ad been to write the book. Then the difficulty became marketing it. Within days he sold 75 copies. By the end of the month book sales hit 831.

His eyes lit up with joy, at every sale he saw. He had finally done it, published his book and begun to sell it. His second month was even better, sales doubled. He didn’t need a regular job no more as an employee, so he quit looking for work and going into interviews.

His book was accepted at the local library six months later, and he had a book signing event lined up. Over thirty people attended, it was a good start. Just seeing his novel on display, was satisfying.

A teacher told him she’s going to have her whole class read it, he was flattered at the statement. His dreams were becoming true and he was free to live and write.

After the book signing, he went to a restaurant to eat. No one noticed who he was, his five minutes of fame were over, but he didn’t mind the peace & privacy. He didn’t want personal fame, he wanted his book to be famous and read by the world. Sitting at the table, his phone beeped with a notification. It had become a best seller!

On the drive back to his hometown, life seemed so much more pleasant and joyful. The setting sun lit up the beautiful picturesque sky.

In the morning he made bacon and eggs as he monitored his book sales & emails. He was selling over 1,000 copies a week and growing. A film studio got in contact with him, which sparked a wave of euphoria within his body. He was on the way to the top, and success was the stop. Looking out his fifth floor balcony window, a black hawk swooped down into view, soaring effortlessly.

He knew it was time to find a new apartment. He went online and found one in B.C. A two bedroom with a balcony and spectacular view on the 9th floor. More costly, but well worth it, till he could find land or buy a home.

A new start, he didn’t hesitate to pack his bags and get ready to depart. He sold his car, lightening the load, planning to buy an SUV in B.C. He boxed everything else he owned and loaded it into a shipping container. He wasn’t going to drive the long boring route, he was flying in style, business class! His stuff would leave before him and arrive right on time when he did. Getting off the plane in his new homeland, he looked up to the bright yellow sun and said “thank you”. As he proceeded to leave the airport and get settled in his new apartment.

Right away, he was greeted by friendly tenants who offered their help and support if ever needed. Right at home, he felt. He found a German shepherd puppy online and bought the cute cuddly fur ball to raise as a loving companion. He named it Caesar, taking it to visit a bald eagle sanctuary. What looked like Horus in flight, a godly sight.

He chose his time to take a hike in the wonderful wilderness and explore the new land. He wished he had a dog to join him, but that would come later. The fresh air filled his lungs with pure oxygen, as he trekked past a cascade waterfall and up a mountain.

Back at his apartment he began to organize the place and get it set up to feel like a home. He hung pictures on the wall and got his furniture in place.

He texted an old friend, a girl who used to live in Ottawa he loved as a teenager, but had also moved out to B.C. She replied, and to his surprise was interested in meeting up again. His anxiety and nervousness elevated but he had been through worse than a reunion. He knew she’d feel just as odd, so he went through with it. She looked more beautiful than ever, and her personality had only gotten better. He knew this woman was different, and he wanted to make it work this time. They were too young before, but now things were different, things were possible. She had matured and so had he, they had grown to be independent and strong individuals, ready to join together. Her gorgeous brown eyes and brunette hair made him miss the memories they never made.

They started with coffee and transitioned to shots and beer. Instantaneously they reconnected with ease again. Only their ego could hold them back, but they let that go. Bowling for hours, they made new friends and had a blast. The night had only just begun as they grabbed street food and went to a bar with live country music. Dancing away they forgot about the past trauma and let the new memories flow. A fresh start, sparks flied. They waited to have sex, something they had already waited over a decade. Something they didn’t desire, they wanted each other but love was a different passion between them. Only on the fourth date did they go all the way. Both feeling like it was long overdue and had satisfied a missing piece between them. She was experience by now, he had not had so much opportunities so he felt like a fool but she simply laughed and made him feel relinquished of anxiety and fear. Love was the cure all. Every other problem seemed to disappear.

They reunited again and again for months, until he found a house and bought it. Surrounded by trees, along a river, on a big property with a long driveway. The home needed lots of work, but he saw a vision for it. Living in the apartment, he renovated the house to an amazing modern standard.

The woman he was seeing wanted to move in together, so they did without contemplation. Both their dogs, loved each other and so did they. Money provided the time, fuel, and ability to build a life and open the door to love.

Two years later they got married. She got pregnant and he got nervous. She held his hand and wouldn’t let him go, he wanted to stay, so happy. He prepped the house and a bedroom for twins. Born were a boy and girl, the perfect family.

He stayed alive, and thanks to the universe now he had it all. Blessed beyond words and belief.

The book royalty payments kept coming in, faster and faster than they could save or spend it. He wrote another best seller, than two more. Their life was set, no more worries on this world about money. They made it, but that was only the phase of a new start. They had to raise kids to be role models in society and themselves become philanthropists for great causes. The world kept turning.

Together, with a team of fundraisers they bought over 1,000 acres in New Guinea to protect the wildlife and nature and make it a reserve. Allowing natural restoration to occur. Next he aimed at finding a plot of land in America to create a safari safe land for animals.

The news and media ignored his rough past and helped promote his cause, getting funding for the second project. Saving the elephants, tigers, jaguars, pumas, wolves, giraffes, and rhinos were priority number one. Birds were also added to the list, with Blue Heron’s becoming protected under his request and trade-off to protect more wildlife. Including the ocean, with whales, dolphins and turtles becoming mascots to be saved.

In Canada, he was able to buy 5,000 acres for bears and cougars.

One by one he fundraised the protection of nature and the planet. Death threats arrived, but didn’t faze or stop him. His righteous path let him to know he was doing something good.

Then one day, he received a call. Expecting nothing of it, it turned out to be a big movie producing studio. They wanted to turn his book, Brain Virus into a movie! Things got even better for him as he signed the contract and took a big bonus. Donating half of it to charity. He then took his family on a five country vacation tour. No fear to travel earth, he had providence’s protection. The sunlight guided him everywhere he needed to be, even in the rain, the thunder roared in the right direction. Fear mongers and greedy-money-makers didn’t want him to save land or protect wildlife, it went against their agenda of quick easy profits. But he was ready to face the consequence of being a good righteous human being, because it was a new world order and things were different now. The good weren’t alone, they were an army of their own. His philanthropy had the backing of some powerful ex-presidents and billionaires, so he hired some security and body guards to continue his planet saving work. Thanks to a group of hackers on his side, they found the many people sending death threats and they shut down their attempts of tyrannical destruction of his projects. He had the protection of some powerful people and he was extremely grateful. Protecting nature, and the animals, somehow provided him protection. Assassins made more threats, but authorities hunted them down first and had them arrested before they could further disturb his peaceful mission. He couldn’t let evil stand in his way, the earth needed to be saved and he couldn’t do it alone. He may have become the face but he was not the only one, millions stood behind helping the cause. They far outnumbered the harassing corrupt bad people who wasted their life causing chaos and disruption. Doing everything they could to distract and fear-monger the good people. Eventually, the people stopped being bothered by it and stood together in such strong unison the evil members of earth feared that that had awoken a beast of its own. Titans and Gods that took the other side. They no longer could use fear to control, they had depleted its purpose and ability. They were now falling into fear themselves, backing into a corner they had no way out of the problems they caused. Elite rich who polluted and destroyed parts of the planet now faced the regret and retribution of the people. They were tried in court and imprisoned, and all the political prisoners they imprisoned were released. Justice prevailed and evil failed.

The Happy End