8H Project

#14

Ben — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 20:52:03 +0000

The only help he could offer, he told me, was to advise me in relation to his clientele, if there was anyone interested in this and could help me. Further than that I was on my own. But I knew where to go now.
I wanted to talk. I wanted to talk in front of millions. I’d settle for simple ideas at first though, as with the ideas I could get somewhere, whereas without anything there was nowhere to go. I wanted to help people.
I looked back down at my newspaper. The front page was covered with revolution, when I looked closely inside I saw many countries having this kind of uprising happening. An uprising would be good, but how could one start one of those in a democratic country about simply the environment or the people in the country? A revolution about the open space of the world or just the city could be on the horizon. That was my hope, my dream, my wish.
My goal.

#13

batixa — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 11:58:45 +0000

#12

Ben — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 04:04:12 +0000

One day, when I just chose to drown my sorrows at the local pub, the bartender, in his infinite wisdom, came to me and asked: “What’s wrong, my friend?” It was a Tuesday afternoon and the population of the pub was up to three regulars, me – with my pint and my newspaper looking up at me – and another bloke.
“I want to help…” I started by saying but trailed off. Some article about a strike dawned in my line of sight as my eyes followed my voice down.
“The kitchen needs a lot of help in the cleaning section.” he joked.
“The environment” I continued with a twinkle in my defiance now.
“Well, you’re right, the environment here could need some perking up as well” he was fishing for the rest of my sentence.
“The one outside, the one that we’re killing slowly but steadily…but I don’t know how” I finally said.
“You could have said that from the start. My only question is why the environment and not the people who are killing it? Maybe looking at targeting the cause, helping everyone around you might make more of an effect than everything that is around you. Faster and lasts longer, I’d think.” And the wise bartender let the words settle before he walked off. The strike was black and white, emotions written across angry and exhilarated faces. The bartender’s words just clicked, they clicked in me and put my mind to work. The energy reverberating out the article had now infected me. This was something I could share. I paid my tab and when he reached for the money I held the money for just a moment longer, looking in his eyes in gratitude. Before I could let go though, five words slipped through my lips.
“Would you consider helping me?”

#11

batixa — Wed, 15 Sep 2010 10:43:07 +0000

#10

Ben — Wed, 15 Sep 2010 02:08:45 +0000

No, no more escaping. I had done enough of that, but still it was the thought closest to the surface at that point. I needed to start something, an idea to grasp, something I could follow. Bicycles whizzed around me, but those had and have enough of a market, something needed a helping hand, but it wasn’t catching my eye. Cars went along the bridge, their exhaust gave me something to breathe in, because air is never enough it seemed. I had always been an avid protector of the environment, ‘I could do something with that’ I thought. The look of the polluted shore just reinforced this conviction. Something to do with protecting the environment or stopping pollution was my calling, I was sure about that, but doubt never left my mind, as always.

#9

batixa — Sun, 01 Aug 2010 16:42:36 +0000

#8

Ben — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 12:10:54 +0000

The idea persisted with me throughout the trip and when I got out I was greeted by the sweet smell of pollution. Even though it had been less than a day since the last time I’d been in one, it seemed like forever. Now all I wanted was to get to the centre to scout for opportunity. I saw this as coming out of the hole I dug myself, and the fact that I could realize that felt better than a slap in the face. The size of the city was unprecedented to me, which made it scary, yet beautiful. It gave me both hope, that I could be a part of it and mould it, and fear, that I’d be eaten up by it and rubbed away. Now it was time to look forward and up, I had no one, but I had my ideas and me. Somehow that was reassuring and at that moment it was all I needed for my legs to move.

#7

batixa — Sun, 11 Jul 2010 17:40:03 +0000

#6

Ben — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 20:46:47 +0000

It was all that was needed, an idea. I broke my fall with my arms, but was still eating dirt. Falling to the ground is never a nice feeling, but the memory of a saying was triggered by it. My father always told me “If you fall down seven times get up eight”; and that is what I did. I stood up unfazed, looked around one last time – people were sniggering and pointing at the stranger who tripped – and walked back to the train station. I had looked around enough, I wanted a big city, something I could grasp and work with. I had the start of a business plan, but I needed a place where I could make it come to fruition. I got back onto the train I looked out of the window and bid it goodbye. I was looking forward, and the future was looking back at me. Isn’t it amazing how the future can be so uplifting?

#5

batixa — Sun, 04 Jul 2010 11:29:35 +0000