Wendel Lux's Wanderkammer

On the 18th of May in 2018, Margaret Flowers had just turned 73. She decided to make pastries for her grandchildren—a couple of them students at Santa Fe High School—as she knew, they would be coming over later that evening.

She was beyond excited to give them these snacks, as evident from the large smile she had on her face waking up.

She woke up early at around 6 am, went to her little cottage kitchen, where she made her cottage food she sold at markets! She egan to pull and gather various ingredients—off shelves and out of cabinets.

At around this same time, seventeen year old Dimitrios Pagourtzis was finally commencing his plans. He was barely halfway to eighteen. No one would ever expect this… he was on the football team and he joked around with some friends the day before…

He knew the laws well, he was honor roll. It’s… uncertain why he began to pack his bags with the 12-gauge Remington and the .38-cal Rossi he ordered from the internet.

I mean—FedEx even delivered without an adults signature, months back. Just coz, he managed to order from some store and click, ‘no adult signature needed!’

And, now it’s 7 am…

Mrs. Flowers had spent a while meticulously meting out each ingredient.

Separating them into small bowls, she took her time to slowly add each part, croissants take time.

She stored the ingredients in the refrigerator and, around 7:30, she was ready to start the process of yeast activation.

She knew her grandson was getting ready to go to art class, and she was beyond excited to prepare the croissants that he called his faves.

Warm water, Fleischmann’s, and sugar… where was the sugar?

She dug all through her cabinets, and in the first few minutes, came up flat.

Where was it? She asked herself.

At 7:32 am—Dimitrios had begun singing “Another One Bites The Dust”, spraying scatter shot all around the door of an art classroom.

He broke the window with a shot… then opened the barricaded door.

Inside, and mostly unknown to him, were several young men and women— alongside two teachers.

Well… mostly unknown… because the first person he happened to encounter in the art classroom… was a student he did know—and to which he said, “surprise”, firing the 21-gauge in their chest.

He ran into a few cops before heading into the ceramics room hallway. They shot at each other, the cops being injured and the kid getting to the hallway.

In the ceramics room, he encountered another cop and they were able to injure Dimitrios.

The cops having managed to injure Dimitrios’ pride—got him to surrender.

Still sadly—ten died and fourteen were injured.

After about thirty minutes of looking, Mrs. Flowers did finally find that sugar she so desperately needed.

She thanked God for that!

Little note:

If you have read this story, we hope the message is clear. While we aren’t condemning the rightful ownership of weapons, we are condemning the attitude that our democracy has facilitated in regards to justice versus rights.

Everyday in our country we fight for our rights, and everyday in our country someone could be fighting for their life. This is why we should all try better to understand the delicate topic of lethal force and better understand these warnings.

Regardless of warnings the future is scary… and just like always before, there is still the human factor.

As much as we fight for our own equal rights, for the most part, we are all at mercy to the whims of someone else.

This is why, we must all be careful when it comes to our lives and definitely to these weapons.

We can try tp control our own lives.

by: Wendel Lux

For a while, Little Bobby played on the sun-bleached play rug. Driving his matchbox car through the flat, yet to him, three-dimensional streets. 

He imagines people and creatures living in a utopia. They all eat cotton candy and never have to wear oxygen tanks to go outside.

He imagines this, instead of the warm stagnation that seemed to pervade all bounds.

Most animal life had died out, because of the loss of the Amazon rainforests and the bleaching extinction of the Great Barrier Reefs.

Amber waves of grain, that before, held an ungovernable rot—sit arid and defunct. Most forms of germination, having stopped from the heat.

In his small hand, the car shown rust and decay, the result of mass evaporation and acid rain. He had played outside, once or twice, before the rains became too corrosive for inhabitation.

In the small base suburb house, he played for hours, winding his way through bleached buildings and curves and roundabouts.

Stopping, every once in a while—to allow an imaginary old person or a plastic creature a safe chance to cross the road. 

December of 2023, his birth month, and a bad time for Gaia. The start of World War 3…

With the war of Ukraine having lasted into the 2030s, fallout appeared inescapable. And after “War Isn’t Murder” became the anthem for the anti-zionist, the world all but woke up…

One might have thought that the smell of decay and decomposition in the streets—and that an actual holocaust is reoccurring—would have snapped the sheep from their stupor of racial extermination. 

Yet, in no way was this the case.

By 2027, the air had grown thick and heavy. It was as if the Earth itself had stopped breathing. 

The tipping point was 2023, a fact. Bobby lost his parents a couple years later, in the coordinated attacks on Air Force bases around the world.

The heat caused children to grow weak hearts, if unconditioned—and with no parents, Bobby had been confined to a cell of sorts. A large room, conditioned just right for his body.

These were perhaps the last sights Bobby's young eyes beheld—before the heat suffocated the rest of existence. 

The streets full of viscera and carrion… 

The ICC, finally, ruling it all genocide.

Biden saying, “that’s outrageous.”

Bobby raised a Christian, had been saved at a young age—in a good Fundamental Baptist church 

The sad truth—the years after 2023 were the start of the apocalypse.

Most of the Christians were unaware that their religious zeal had been among the most harmful, suffocating everyone—robbing them of their passions and their zeal.

Satan had a grip on them. The same enemy, which they feared—had infiltrated their ranks.

He spent years building an army of sheep, training their pastors in wicked rhetoric. That silenced women and encouraged hateful rhetoric against that which was different.

The seven years of apocalypse began, October 7th, 2023. In no way was the Bible an encouragement, it was the devil’s horror story—in sheep’s clothing. 

By 2030, the architects' plans written in stone, the world sailed towards destruction.

The carnival of rust began the moment the oceans evaporated.

The Israelites saw that their messiah had yet to return, and ran from Zion the moment the Hamas militants said “nuclear.”

The deserts spread, supercharged by rapid deforestation. The release of carbon monoxide destroyed all life, and as the temperature rose, so did the amount of desertification. 

Winds became most erratic—increasing erosion and pushing the deserts deep into civilization, as it was.

The axis change of Earth had begun to affect the seasons and things became catastrophically extreme.

The Bible was accurate, in at least one respect… the world would end in a hellscape.

Though, seeing things in retrospect, no one would have thought that religious dogma and political rhetoric would spell the end of things…

Right, Margaret? Right, Ray? Right, George? Right, Stephen?

No one would have called that…

Daily habits make for a better writer and/or person.

When writing about your life or about, well anything, it is important to remember your foundations. That which makes us, we. Humans are individual people—with individual needs and desires. By allowing ourselves to enjoy what we do in life, we allow ourselves to have room for growth.

When someone is upset about something, they may continue to stay upset about that one thing for a long time. It may go on a for a couple of hours, a couple of days, or several years. As soon as that feeling of upset or anger reached our hearts, it took more place than it needed. Anger and lust stem from desire, and so too does most anything that create negative space in our souls.

The fellow in the line in front of old man Bobby Joe Grayson was wearing an orange robe. At least thats what he thought.

“Hey you!” Bobby Jo says to the dark skinned man. “Why you wearing a robe like that out in public.”

The man in the orange robe is purchasing some fruits, they sat in a little basket on his arm. Apples. Grapes. Coconuts. Oranges. Pomegranates. He turns around and looks at the fellow. Without hesitation he says, “I am a monk.”

“A monk?” Says the older. “Like one of them there. Om, boodi-hoodi… people.”

Stories told, Lives on hold,  Destinies constantly changing.

Clock bells toll, Death marches roll, But we still stand waiting.

Furious people, Like ravaging animals, That are constantly searching,

Once they find, Nothing left behind, They leave, still not knowing.

Standing again, Clocks will bend, And people still are waiting.

In our pursuit of enlightenment, it's easy to get lost in the trappings of Spiritual Materialism—a phenomenon where we treat spirituality like a trendy accessory, a symbol of status, or a source of validation. From amassing crystals to attending meditation retreats, it's not uncommon to find ourselves caught up in the material aspects of spiritual practices, often at the expense of genuine inner transformation. In todays worldy wondering, we'll dive into the dangers of Spiritual Materialism and explore ways to strike a balance between appreciating the tools and traditions of spirituality and focusing on the personal growth they can provide.

A religious morality mentality can be comforting, providing a clear-cut set of guidelines for how to live one's life. However, it can also lead to a narrow and unnuanced worldview, where anything that doesn't conform to one's beliefs is seen as 'other' or even 'wrong.' This can create divisions, foster intolerance, and limit personal growth. Blindly adhering to a set of rules without questioning them can hinder one's ability to empathize with others and develop the critical thinking skills necessary to navigate our complex, ever-changing world. It's essential to find a balance between holding onto one's beliefs and being open to learning from diverse perspectives and experiences.