I am excited to welcome another guest contributor to the website. His name is Paul Smith and he is from America. He will be writing what he calls Inspired Writing and will be covering a variety of subjects that interest him.
“After spending some time to approaching a career, I finally became aware that my strong emotion should completely be directed in writing. Thus, I decided to devote my entire life to inspired and elegant writing. In my own writings I often utilize my widespread knowledge and life experiences to write about. As it turned out, my inspiration for creative writing helps other people and, of course, develops my personality. Hopefully, such an intense love for writing will never let me down! My great passion for writing always motivated me to create truly awesome things. Moreover, I am willing and eager to write guest posts on any topics related to traveling, business, love, history, economics, social media and many – many other themes. Life is a fascinating adventure for me, and I always try to be up-to-date with new trends. I think that inspiration, involvement, creativity and hard efforts will help me to succeed in life. Actually, I am looking forward to sharing my knowledge with online readers. All my articles will get them acquainted with a colossal collection of good news and outstanding ideas. Therefore, follow my writings and stay tuned!”
Exploding Ideas is going international! Watch this space
They say that there’s a fine line between helping others and helping yourself. Whether or not your actions are done directly and selflessly or indirectly for your own gain. Now I’ve searched for this line with a magnifying glass in the one hand and a telescope in the other. It isn’t there; it can’t be seen. So how can we blame people when they cross an invisible line that doesn’t even exist? Because without a doubt nobody has ever acted selflessly; not truly. For that act of moral sacrifice they had a penultimate reason for their actions. Yes it could be done for greed or to show off or it could be done for reasons far less vain. It could be to bring self happiness or to save a friends life that you value dearly. But in the end the choice is for your own reason and for your own ends.
Growing up I was taught right from wrong like everybody else. Like everybody else I quickly found out that the concept of right and wrong could be easily twisted based on politics and opinion. Like the first time was bullied at school; I know that they threw the first punch and I was defending myself. The first punch the teacher saw was mine; ergo mine was the first punch. The black eye he had given me counted for nothing in my defence other to portray me as the fighting type. It took a long time to shake off that impression.
Around the same time a rich millionaire invested an untold sum of money into the school. They used the money to upgrade the facilities and to build a new wing to the school. Of course for this thoroughly selfless donation he got the wing named after him, a motif was added to the school crest and he was elected into school councillors. The next year when the entire school was trying to buy uniforms with the new logo and breaking the banks doing so: a new kid arrived at school. He was the son of the aforementioned millionaire and had been kicked out of every private school he had been to. Of course our school welcomed him with open arms and the board of governors even demanded that his record be seen as clean so that he could have a fair chance to fit into the school.
I guess the whole thing got me riled because I wrote a report entitled: “the corruption of charity” and I referenced the effect of the charitable donation throughout. The reaction was maddening. The teachers condemned me, the headmaster was furious and the son: beating me up became his new hobby. Given the teachers blinded impressions of me and the good standing that Johnny had with the councillors; I couldn’t tell on Johnny for fear of being penalised myself. In fact Johnny Barnes made my last few years of school hell.
But I have no need to dwell on the past. Three years after that report ruined my collage life; the same report landed me a first in my degree. Granted; it wasn’t the original report. There were more references and the argument had more balance. But I was able to learn that Barne industries had earned that charitable donation in one of many cruel ways.
I was planning on becoming an industrial journalist, but an even better position slipped right into my hands. Meet the new kid on the block; D.I. Forest, industrial department of the police force. Meet the kid that brought down Barne industries in his first year. Now that’s what I call payback.
I’m climbing up this tower
A crude metaphor for power
Because now it is my hour
But the wait has made me sour.
I’ve been searching for goodness
But this is what I’ve found
A hidden demon shouting
While never making a sound
To climb to the top
Means cutting others down
Pretending to be honest
While smiling with a frown.
So let me tell you something
That makes me very sad
To strive for all in greatness
Is to strive for all that’s bad.
The skyline stands both sharp and blurred as it shimmers in the wind. It’s unnatural elegance jumps out of the flowing panes of mirrors that crowd the floor. The buildings are all brown or grey and yet they each have their own colour. Bright vibrant lights and illuminated windows make the dull stone rectangles shine. To all of those that look down; the city towers overhead.
Splash; and the façade is broken. Smashed by the boot that that crashes through the mirror shattering the globules apart.
“Stop that!” A young mother called to her son, “You’re getting water everywhere!”
“But puddles are for jumping in; why else would they exist?”