Six Minutes

They say it’s a flash before your eyes, and then a lovely white aura surrounds you and carries you off to whatever place you pray to. Whatever your heaven or afterlife is. But here I am, caught in a stream of consciousness where I can explain all this in seconds to you. I didn’t see a white flash or everything I’ve done in life. No, it was more like in a matter of mere moments my mind tried to recollect as many important things in the last day or so before it shut down. It’s not really pleasant being lulled into a dim world by the piercing squeal of a heart beat monitor. Oh, right. I completely forgot.

Hi, my name is Scott. I’m a 19 year old university student, coffee shop barista, and newly appointed boyfriend. I’ve been dead for one minute now.

I know, I know, you’re probably like, “Scott, what the hell man?” Yeah I was too! You think I want to be on this cold metal bed while people in scrubs play around with my innards? Ew! So that’s why I don’t think I’ll focus on that horrible image. Instead I guess I can talk about what I previously stated.

So. University. What a blessed time it is. Especially since I’m a psychology major and this class I’m in has the dopiest professor I’ve ever seen. The poor guy wears a sweater vest and rests his glasses on the tip of his nose and is maybe around 60 years old. But the real kicker is the fact that he has corn rows for hair on top of his pale head. I don’t know why, but I’m certain that if the class were ever to do a psycho analysis of a subject, it should be that man. I can’t believe I get out of bed to see him quote Freud everyday. It’s like he’s……he’s…..

Three minutes have passed.

I’m sorry. There’s more I want to say and I’m running out of time. Did you know that the human brain, on average, can only last six minutes without oxygen? Crazy, isn’t it? Working in that coffee shop I’m sure I’ve had my fair share of oxygen deprivation as all I can smell are ground coffee beans and sugary froth and the fancy (and stupid, in my opinion) cake-pops baking in the back. Yeah, I’m the guy that asks for your name and if you say Erin, I’ll spell it “Air-In” or something like that. Most of the time I just like messing with people, because standing behind a counter while a 14 year old girl who thinks she’s better than you orders some ridiculous concoction.

“Yeah, I want a large, iced, sugar-free latte with soy milk and 4 pumps of vanilla. And my name is Brittany.”

Okay, is that Brittany spelled B-I-T-C….

Four minutes have passed.

You get my point. Time is really going by quickly. I’m rather nervous. They’ve been trying to resuscitate me. I don’t know the specifics about all of this medical stuff. I know my girlfriend does, but she’s not here right now. She’d probably be going on about how the crash cart works. Every time I find myself listening too. I mean, I’ve never been one for medicine and surgery, but when she explains it I’d listen to a whole lecture, you know? I’m glad she’s not caught up in this mess. I wouldn’t want her to worry. I wouldn’t….

I’m into my final minute.

Well, I guess I should tell you. I was hit by a car and they don’t think I’ll make it. It was my fault really. I was late for work, and I wasn’t thinking and I just ran across the street. As you can tell I am very well educated. I mean, I guess in a way I’m glad things have played out like this. I’ve had some good times. I’d rather have my heart stop like this than be torn apart by heartbreak. I mean, what girl would really want to date a barista who doesn’t even take his classes seriously. Let’s be honest here. In this world, there is no room for mistakes, and the last thing I want to be is one for anyone. I just think that maybe, at the end of the day, if this is how it plays out, then this is how it plays out. Maybe, wherever I go, I can tell Freud about the dopey professor that carries on our legacy, hey?

Seven minutes have passed.

That’s strange. I hear beeping.

The Pharaoh

O, Time, who will slay the last Pharaoh?

Though seconds and minutes may have a strict deadline –

In spite of these, the sand-ridden streets of Giza,

And Alexandria, with a fast, Roman poison –

Still, still they live; and though thy foot trample the dunes of glass dust and mirror, he,

Some night of unjust justification

With steel drawn shall kill thy Old Kingdom.

Gorged with the dust of tombs and temples

destroyed –

With omniscient eyes like Osiris,

And watering maw of Anubis,

He believes himself worthy of the Sphinx’s question,

the tomb of his mighty, yet departed, predecessor,

He believes himself the lord, the Great.


I wrote this piece in emulation of The Chimera, a poem by Clarke Ashton Smith. A link to the original poem can be found here. What struck me the most, and perhaps inspired me the most, was the Sphinx. I’m not entirely sure why, but the topic of Ancient Egyptian history, though very real and historical, feels very much so like that of a fairy tale or a fantasy. There is much mystery harbored by many individuals towards this ancient civilizations, thus my inspiration was stirred. If you are not familiar with Ancient Egyptian history, I encourage that you research some on your time. In this piece that I wrote, I made sure to draw parallels to the Roman conquest of the Egyptian land, directly calling it a poison. Most notably, I provide reference to Julius Caesar. Caesar believed himself worthy to co-rule the country, even to the point where he envied Alexander the Great. In today’s world, we see leaders with delusions of grandeur also believing themsleves in the right to interfere with the issues of other nations. Despite what they believe, greatness does not come from how much influence and power one has, but it stems from how this power is used: inclusiveness, prosperity, and equality for all.

The Ballad of Bill Fiylk

Thank you for the tale of your amazing life and all the advice you gave us for ours.

-Lucas and Sam

The Ballad of Bill Fiylk

It was a dusky day with chilling air

And snow piled all around.

The sky was grey, and I must say,

The sun could not be found.

Perhaps the weather had dulled my soul,

Perhaps I need to confess

That I was feeling mighty blue

From mortality and from stress.

But chance may have it that in my luck,

And on that dusky day,

That I met a man by the name of Bill

And this is what he had to say:

You seem nice boy, you from the city?

Ya’ see I grew up on a farm.

My hips do suck from riding horses

(But that didn’t hinder his charm).

Now as I grew up I tried many things,

(He sighed as he emptied his lung)

I tried to join the Air Force,

But they said that I was just too young.

So I packed my bags and left home

With only four bucks to my name.

I headed west to Vancouver,

For my mechanics license to claim.

Of course I found a lot of work,

I put my mechanic skills to the test,

But on top of that I’d sing and strum

My guitar with zeal and zest.

I made my way back East,

Got a real job and some rest,

I guess the moral of that story is,

“Whatever you do, go for the best.”

It was at this point of his story

That I took notice of Bill’s eyes,

Like murky light blue water,

Or cloudy, piercing skies.

His hands were gaunt with thinning skin,

The digits were rough and bent,

The white hairs approached the calloused palms,

They looked like a life well spent.

And on his face a cheery glow

Of ecstasy in his cheeks,

I can see from the age that Bill may be,

He’s overcome many peaks.

So I built up the courage to ask the man,

About what he’s overcome,

The hardest obstacle he has faced,

And he responded looking glum:

Now in my life, I have faced

A difficult thing or two,

But perhaps the worst of all of these

Was the loss of my first wife, who

I did lose, as is our lives,

We’ll never know why or when.

You may get married once or twice,

But we all learn to love again.

You can sit around and wait,

Or you can give up and quit.
But “nothing gets done by itself,

You have gotta do it.”

I thanked him for his time,

As my uncertainty he had fought,

From his story and his words

I had learnt a lot.

That to live your life was to try,

To try, and try some more,

Give your best and all you’ve got,

Until you’re too good to ignore.

With a handshake and a farewell,

And a blessing to all his ilk,

I left the company of the man,

By the name of Bill Fiylk.

Unknown. “Old Man’s Hands.” Photo. pinterest Unknown. Dec. 14, 2017. <>


A – Z, My Break

S – Sushi Restaurant


Today I finally broke out of my shell a little, after being cooped up by studying chemistry, and decided to go get sushi with some of my friends. Of course, on the day that we plan to go, my face grows a big damn cyst right on my cheek. Not just any cyst though. This one has gotten my left cheek to swell up to the size of like a damn ping pong ball and my head is lopsided. You can imagine my horror when I saw this. However, it didn’t stop me from going, as around noon I was picked up by my friends. What took my mind off of the swollen battlefield of a face I had was how easily one of my friends had picked up and seemingly mastered driving. We even all sang along in the car to I’m Free by Kenny Loggins like idiots. As we got to the restaurant in the cold breeze, I noticed that the patrons were all predominantly white. How typical of an asian restaurant in North America. I caught a few glances at my pufferfish-like complexion, but chose to ignore them all. And so we ate and we laughed for the next hour; I even ate an oversized dollop of wasabi and survived to the astonishment of my friends. This entire excursion was good for me, as I finally got some time to take a break and spend some time with my friends who I was neglecting.


C – Clinic


So I went and got that cyst checked out by a “professional” and discovered that I also have a skin infection! Lovely! The swelling has gone down a little but I still look lopsided. At the clinic, I noticed that there were only a couple people occupying the waiting room. One was a slender, caucasian man, maybe around 30 years of age, sitting like he owned the place. He wore baggy sweats that served no purpose whatsoever but to guard his knees, and a black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up. On his head he wore a Monster energy drink snapback, angled just enough so you could tell his hairline was receding. His teeth, or lack thereof, were rather yellow and unpleasant to imagine. The other individual was a middle aged woman who spoke Japanese on the phone. I’m fairly sure that she was also aware of the unpleasant demeanor of the other man, as she was sitting on the other end of the room and only shot quick glances at him periodically. The entire room smelt like medical supplies and cleanliness. Perhaps the clean atmosphere of the clinic cured my infection, because I wasn’t given antibiotics, or maybe the scary guy sitting there frightened the infection away.


M – Movie Theatre

My father and I decided to go see the latest Marvel film that was released, Thor: Ragnarok, except he decided he wanted to see it in 3D. Of course he really enjoyed it, seeing as how he is new to the whole 3D movie craze, but I struggled that entire time. My 3D glasses got smudged so everything was blurry, the man in front of me would not get the hell off his phone, and my contacts were drying up. The best part of going to the movies is when a tall man with poofy hair decides to sit right in front of you and cause your neck to be strained the entire film. Or maybe the one guy on the other end of the theatre that has an obnoxious, oddly timed laugh that would make everyone not feel like laughing. Or maybe even the group of 12 year olds who come with one of the group member’s mother and make dumb and obvious remarks the trie film. Either way, movies usually aren’t the best of times for little ol’ me. Despite me not being able to see and absorb a lot of the film, I still enjoyed spending some well needed time with my dad.

Trump’s Climate Blunder

“There’s one issue that will define the contours of this century more dramatically than any other, and that is the urgent and growing threat of a changing climate.”
— Ex U.S. President Barack Obama, UN Climate Change Summit, September 23, 2014.

In the autumn of 2015, a landmark agreement was signed by UN delegates in Paris, France, to combat the ever-present threat of climate change. On the 12th of December, the UNFCCC (United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change), and all 196 participating countries signed an agreement to take action and set standards towards addressing climate issues. This became known as the Paris Climate Accord. By November of the following year, the policy came into force, and by June 2017, 75.5% of member countries had fulfilled their pledge and commitment.


However, by the time of June 1, 2017, U.S. President Donald J. Trump announced he was revoking all commitment from the Paris Accord and subsequent climate mitigation. Despite this threat, in accordance with Article 28 of the Paris Climate Agreement, no member country can leave the agreement until November 4, 2020, meaning Trump’s rescinding from the Accord would not see fruition until said year. This article is not to debate the legitimacy of climate change, but to question the misguided withdrawal made by President Trump. To provide insight into the issue of climate change and its legitimacy, here are multiple articles and sites to educate:


Trump’s reasons for leaving the agreement mainly stem around the idea that such a “diversion” of efforts would hinder the U.S. economy and, “put (the U.S.) at a permanent disadvantage.” Perhaps this stems from Trump’s economic focus which  was present in his campaign, accompanied by the promises he made to blue-collar workers, namely coal miners. With this revitalization of an already failing, outdated industry, a complete lack of regard for the agreement and the environment as a whole is evident. President Trump’s movement for more fossil fuels, such as coal, is rooted in the claim that in complying with the Paris Climate Accord, a significant decrease in jobs would arise.


However, the World Bank estimates around 13.5 jobs would be created for every million dollars of spending in U.S. wind and solar infrastructure. In areas more focused on energy efficiency, 16.7 jobs would be created for every million dollars of spending. This is a stark contrast compared to the 5.2 jobs per $1 million for oil and natural gas, and also the 6.9 jobs per $1 million for coal. Another more general government study finds job creation from clean energy generally (renewables plus energy efficiency) is 5.3 times greater than from coal and 6.7 times greater than from natural gas. The idea that an economy would surge because of the minimal jobs created in oil and gas instead of those in green energy fields seems ridiculous. Yes, the market currently does favor the oil and and gas moguls who own the market, but jobs in renewable energy have faced a steady incline since 2012, and are now at the same level as fossil fuels.

The United States is one of the world’s tycoons for exports on fossil fuels, but being a superpower and perhaps the role model for westernization comes with a responsibility currently being ignored under the Trump Government. It is not a right to be able to haphazardly use a source of fuel holding direct ties to the greenhouse effect, but a privilege and a responsibility. By dismissing the inevitable threat faced by our civilization, sloth and ignorance are perpetuated to the populace, and the vicious cycle of being imprudent continues. In a matter such as environmental stewardship, his outlook can not stand.


Trump claims, “The United States, under the Trump administration, will continue to be the cleanest and most environmentally friendly country on Earth. We’ll be the cleanest. We’re going to have the cleanest air. We’re going to have the cleanest water.” Actions speak louder than words, especially for the President of the United States of America. The Environmental Protection Agency under his presidency has scrapped rules preventing the dumping of waste into public water, and limitations on emissions on vehicles and factories. The simplest of actions can have important and long lasting results. Despite the goal of reducing the world’s temperature by a seemingly mere 0.9 degrees Celsius, keep in mind, this temperature was similar to the temperature during the Industrial revolution. Seeing how far we’ve come since then, it’s not a matter of if, but a matter of when. When should we start taking our future, and the future of the world as we know it seriously? We may have to wait until 2020 to find out.


Milman, Oliver. “Fact check: Trump’s Paris climate speech claims analyzed.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media,

Perkins, Madeleine Sheehan. “How leaving the Paris Climate Agreement could affect the US.” Business Insider, Business Insider, 1 June 2017,

Kats, Greg. “How many jobs does clean energy create?” GreenBiz, GreenBiz Group Inc., 5 Dec. 2016,

Liptak, Kevin. Acosta, Jim. “Trump to withdraw from Paris accord.” Image. valleynewslive June, 1, 2017. Nov. 7, 2017 <>

Reuter, Dominick. “Trump Digs Coal.” Image. independent April 5, 2017. Nov. 9, 2017. <>

Pett, Joel. “Climate Summit.” Image. kentucky March 18, 2012. Nov. 14, 2017. <>


Revolving Doors – Anecdote from My Life

Image result for kid in revolving doors


At this point in my life, I’m beginning to realize two conclusions about myself: I am accident prone, and I may be invincible. As you may guess, I say the latter because of the many accidents and events I’ve blundered myself into and somehow came out alive. Whether this be a curse or a blessing, I’ll let you decide. What scares me the most, are the multiple times my head has been in jeopardy of injury and permanent damage. This has taken many forms ranging from face planting off of bicycles, falling down cliffs while dog walking, falling down mountains while skiing, or simply having my head be a magnet for sports equipment. However, one incident definitely stood out in my mind when I started writing this; this is that story.

Many years ago, when I was a tiny child (I forget my age), I was taken so some sort of convention or event. Of course, I forget the location as well, but I’ll get to the reasoning behind that later. Anyway, we came across some stations that were set up where people would talk to you about whatever-the-hell, but being the true child I was, none of it interested me. I decided to wander off and explore the center on my own, until I stumbled across a revolving door. Now, this wasn’t any ordinary revolving door, no. This door rotated by itself on a motor. Boy, was I fascinated by this door for some reason that I still don’t know, nor will I ever know. So my little, prepubescent self decided that he wanted to get a closer look at this mystical door, and I inched closer and closer until I was right next to it. I must have been pretty curious, because that wasn’t even close enough for me. So on the right side of the door frame, after the door panel passed, I peaked around the frame. I decided to stick my head in and took a look; just my head. For all of maybe one second I was content until the next panel on the revolving doors came and squished my head in between it and the door frame. I swear that door squished out all memory of where I was and who I was with. So imagine some tiny kid screaming because his head is stuck in the revolving door, and you can probably also picture that it would have attracted a crowd. It was after 10 seconds that some adult yanked me out of the doors, and my head felt like a balloon for a couple hours afterwards. To this day, I hesitate to use any revolving door.

Orange Sands


The profuse heat forced sweat from the spray tanned forehead of the suit-clad man. He didn’t fit in, but man, did he draw a crowd. And not entirely a good one at that. The “Fake Media” made fun of his dancing the night before, but he knew he still had it. Who could possibly dislike the Don?

Image result for trump in saudi arabia dancing gif(

I finally woke up in bed at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. The Saudi air was foreign to me, but the luxury was reassuring. Of course, not as luxurious as the Trump Towers chain. Best. Ever. As I sat up on the bedside, I felt the sore pain of my hip singe from the dancing I had done the night before. I was the greatest there, no doubt about it, but damn does being great all of the time hurt. I stood up wondering where the menservants were, as I needed my silk bathrobe, lest I go greet my Secret Service naked. They would be impressed by my Trump Tower anyway, believe me. I meandered to the washroom and splashed my beautiful face with the cold water. As I drew my hands across my face, I gazed into the mirror to find that my totally real tan was fading. Sad! Fortunately, some of Melania’s makeup was still around, so I just slathered it on. It worked perfectly, because it’s me.

I missed the United States dearly while I stayed in this distant land. I just could not get used to the heat and the desert and the way of life. Very different. They pray for Muhammad, I pray for a wall. I just felt like everyone was staring at me all of the time, but I couldn’t figure out why. Perhaps my charming good looks? Whatever it was, I knew the ladies loved me, and the men envied me. However, if there was one thing I missed the most, it was my television. Unfortunately, I couldn’t watch my favorite show, “Fox and Friends,” while I was away. Therefore, I could not trust any other news sources. Believe me, only losers watch CNN. Okay? And I am not one of those.

I was dressed by the time morning came, and I finished my meeting with the King of Saudi later that same day. I’m not sure what we agreed upon, because I was busy checking my Twitter to see if I could say something to get shown on the news again. Also, Vlad wouldn’t stop messaging me. Great guy, believe me. Though I’m not sure why he sends the eggplant emoji so much. Anyway, by the end of the meeting, Saudi Arabia had $15 billion worth of missiles from yours truly. I co-wrote The Art of the Deal after all.

My to-do list for the day was almost done and it was only noon; all that was left was to tweet something. Melania and I got back to the hotel, but before I could tweet, she grabbed the phone from my truly large, manly hands. In the blink of an eye, she erased my tweet about Mexico, and changed it to a thank you note for the King. Never have I ever been so wronged in my life, truly. It was tough enough living with a small loan of a million dollars in my youth, but now this? She threw my phone back at me, and left me in the fetal position. After she left the room, I was sad, bigly. I spent the evening trying to cheer myself up, believe me, but nothing worked. I Facetimed Putin, but he only made me feel lonelier. I then prank called the Mexican President:

“Hey Enrique, is your fridge running?”

“I know it’s you Donald, I have caller ID.”

“Yeah? Well, you and your bad hombres are paying for that wall, believe me. That way I can keep party-poopers like you out.”

I hung up. Hopefully he didn’t hear me tearing up. Nothing was making me feel better, and there was still time in the day, so I decided I was going to go for a drive by myself.


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