Hesitantly walking across to the middle of the platform. It’s a nice sunny day, cool breeze, and over 1000 people all waiting on your next words. How had this happened?

You know as much as I do! I went to sleep last night as a tired college student beat after work and I’m waking up as the sole philosopher for a beaten down army on the eve of battle.

No acid trip could compare to something this surreal.

Maybe this was a nightmare...an immensely vivid nightmare.

As you make it to center stage your brain coming through itself to find any semblance of a speech, half of it telling you to just run.

However, as you look at the weary army of war-torn men, you feel compelled to say something. Anything.

“Good Afternoon” you start with a quiver in your voice “today I am here to talk to you about-“ you pause trying to think of something to make sense. “Life, and the things involved in it.”

The crowd stirs.

“War, is a grotesque, necessary thing that few should have to endure, yet it seems that no matter how hard we try, more and more of us get involved. It is something a person never truly comes back from, yet we all return in some piece or another. You must view it with a sense of responsibility.” You pause.

“ are we living a life safe from harm? Of course not. However, you must ask yourself if we are living a life that is worth the harm we take. All we can do is to take each day at a time and make the best out of it we can.”

You finish. And without stoping to see the crowds reaction. You run off the platform, hoping to god you wake up from this bizarre dream, and that your words may have helped at least one person.