Post by LEAF LUKOSELENE on Jul 24, 2010 22:48:52 GMT -5
"Good." Leaf said aloud to himself, eyeing the tent-hut-fuselage hybrid shelter. It was big enough, but was definitely cozy. About ten feet by eight feet with a six foot height, not bad. He thought proudly. He had cleaned the inside devotedly. Rounded and removed any and all dangerous edges. Started with a private first class segment from the wreck and added necessary tarp, canvas, wood, and leaves until it was a thing of aesthetic and functional satisfaction.
With some additional work it wouldn't just be satisfactory, it could be beauty. Well, to him at least. This is MY new house. MY own creation from MY work and vision. Well, I think thats getting a bit carried away. This belongs in a shanty town. he thought amusedly.
He had been working non-stop by himself for hours to build this shelter. He was one of the first. His mind jumped ahead in time, imagining a whole community of tents like this made by all the survivors. Why do I keep thinking we'll be here long term. This is a globalized world. There is no more isolation. he thought sadly. No, If I've learned anything on my travels, its to not assume the developed world cares about the undeveloped world. he cynically mused.
Then his idealism met his realism. We have injured people. When people see Dr. before his name they always assume he's a surgeon. He didn't know much about people bodies, he mostly worked with animals, plants, cells, and minds. Minds were his favorite. He was an ethologist and psychologist, a researcher of both animal and human psyche. Also, he'd done his fair share of ecological conservation studies and cellular experiments. He'd always thought cells were quite boring, unlike the mind. But cells were important, especially the wonders that emerging biotechnology can allow in his lifetime. Its awe-inspiring.
He snapped out of his deep thought and arrived in the here-and-now frame of mind. Everyone has something they can do. What can I help with in this survivor's community to-be? I'll gladly explore, I'd be familiar with most flora and fauna of this island. he hesitated. What could I do for the people? I can't heal their bodies, but I can keep their minds healthy.
He wasn't a psychiatrist, or therapist, or clinical psychologist, as he mostly focused on psychological research, but he could surely act the part. He had plenty experience from school. Sometimes I have doubts of my own sanity, should I really be counseling people? Sure, its just like giving advice, I can do that. But, most of these survivors are older than me. Will they really see a 24 year-old psychologist. If I'm good. he answered himself. They need me. They could be suffering any range of issues after this kind of catastrophe. These people are especially at high risk for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Sounds like a plan. He found a large cardboard piece and a sharpie and made a sign on his newly constructed dwelling, complete with a corny slogan.
DR. LEAF LUKOSELENE. PSYCHOLOGIST AND ADVENTURER, PhD.
SOMEONE TO LISTEN. SOMEONE TO TALK.
"Now that sure classes up the place." he laughed. "I'm open for business!" he said in excitement to nobody. MY home and office.
With some additional work it wouldn't just be satisfactory, it could be beauty. Well, to him at least. This is MY new house. MY own creation from MY work and vision. Well, I think thats getting a bit carried away. This belongs in a shanty town. he thought amusedly.
He had been working non-stop by himself for hours to build this shelter. He was one of the first. His mind jumped ahead in time, imagining a whole community of tents like this made by all the survivors. Why do I keep thinking we'll be here long term. This is a globalized world. There is no more isolation. he thought sadly. No, If I've learned anything on my travels, its to not assume the developed world cares about the undeveloped world. he cynically mused.
Then his idealism met his realism. We have injured people. When people see Dr. before his name they always assume he's a surgeon. He didn't know much about people bodies, he mostly worked with animals, plants, cells, and minds. Minds were his favorite. He was an ethologist and psychologist, a researcher of both animal and human psyche. Also, he'd done his fair share of ecological conservation studies and cellular experiments. He'd always thought cells were quite boring, unlike the mind. But cells were important, especially the wonders that emerging biotechnology can allow in his lifetime. Its awe-inspiring.
He snapped out of his deep thought and arrived in the here-and-now frame of mind. Everyone has something they can do. What can I help with in this survivor's community to-be? I'll gladly explore, I'd be familiar with most flora and fauna of this island. he hesitated. What could I do for the people? I can't heal their bodies, but I can keep their minds healthy.
He wasn't a psychiatrist, or therapist, or clinical psychologist, as he mostly focused on psychological research, but he could surely act the part. He had plenty experience from school. Sometimes I have doubts of my own sanity, should I really be counseling people? Sure, its just like giving advice, I can do that. But, most of these survivors are older than me. Will they really see a 24 year-old psychologist. If I'm good. he answered himself. They need me. They could be suffering any range of issues after this kind of catastrophe. These people are especially at high risk for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Sounds like a plan. He found a large cardboard piece and a sharpie and made a sign on his newly constructed dwelling, complete with a corny slogan.
DR. LEAF LUKOSELENE. PSYCHOLOGIST AND ADVENTURER, PhD.
SOMEONE TO LISTEN. SOMEONE TO TALK.
"Now that sure classes up the place." he laughed. "I'm open for business!" he said in excitement to nobody. MY home and office.