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Matt Oehler
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A cool breeze blew through the top of the pine trees. The chill had settled in even if the ground was still free from snow. A little further in the woods there was the railway line, a line that crossed the virgin forest of northern Ontario, binding the town of Cochrane to that improvised village called Moosonee. A village made up of eighty percent natives. A place with a long, long history, where the first settlers had been hunters, centuries ago. A center of the fur trade, it had once been a place of great economic influence along with the Hudson Bay Company.

From his very first years he had been fascinated by books. His grandfather had once given him a book on his birthday and that had been the start of his admiration for literature. He loved to spend time in libraries, reading on and on. Of course there had been times when he hated school and when he blamed his masters for their cruelty, but this seemed quite natural. He would soon learn the importance of schools in a society, the importance that knowledge be communicated to the younger generation...
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feel like cheatin' on your self
but inside you stay the same
only drinkin', last fascination
could lead your thinkin' it's your sole ambition...

but look what you've become when you're so deeply torn within
Nothing
is it for nothing's sake that you keep on living?
like you're lost so very far beyond the hills you used to gamble on
not so long ago, and yet you know, nothing of what should, could, may become...
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