New Beginnings

Nothing is rarer than the opportunity to re-visit a past mistake, and the chance to fix it your second time through.

Of course not everything will be the same; and you will not get all the same opportunities you were given your first time through. In some cases you will be too late--a crush will have moved on; friends will have moved away; and none of this revises all the years that have passed since your first time through. But that does not minimize the opportunity you do have.

Most people would kill for the chance to make things right in the past, so they can move on from all their guilt and pain. When such a chance comes, you would be silly not to take it, right? And you would be even sillier for repeating the same mistakes you made last time, right?

Do not dwell on the past. Learn from your mistakes, and move on. Live in the present.

Who do we marry?

You know that one girl (or guy)? The one you watch from a distance? The one and only whom if you could make her say yes, you'd marry in an instant?

But of course, she wouldn't say yes, which is why you didn't ask.

Are we supposed to ask her? Or are we supposed to be more practical in our choice of a spouse? Are we supposed to settle for the best of those who would say yes? The best fit?

I don't have any long thoughts tonight, I'm just stuck on this.

Bright

So I was walking down College Avenue in College Place and the sun was shining brightly, so my eyes were the narrowest squint.

I looked to my right as I passed the student missions office and noticed a number of students, some that I knew, pointing out the sun, and facing it, with their eyes completely closed, walking backwards down the middle of the street. They didn't see me. I kept walking.

Then I woke up.

Can't... Get... Up...

So I was in college. It was Wednesday of my first week. My first class of the day was English.

I was sitting in the middle of that cramped classroom doing whatever writing exercise the teacher tried to get us to do, and I was finding it difficult.

Eventually I got up and went to the washroom. As I walked in I noticed that someone else from the class was walking in a pair towards that same washroom, and I hoped he wouldn't come in because there was no partition between the only two urinals and they were rather close together. This meant that obviously, he came in and instead of waiting patiently just used it. I angled my body so he wouldn't see anything and waited for him to leave before I went to the sink to wash up.

By the time I got back to the classroom it as 10:25 and English class had been done for 25 minutes. It sure didn't feel that long. The teacher had opened my binder to my class schedule to see what was going on, and noticed that I had a free period at ten. I was relieved, because I was unaware of this.

So I went back to my dorm room and tried to fall asleep for a half hour. When time came to get to my 11am math class, I found my left leg was asleep and wouldn't move. I tried everything to get it to move and nothing. I even jokingly cast dispel on my leg, hoping that maybe borrowing from a video game would work, but it didn't work either.

I started cursing and saying "wake up! wake up! wake up!" And my body replied "but Adam, it's early on a Sunday morning!" And then I said "wait what?"

And then I woke up.

The Gardener

I was sitting at home. It was dark. There had been reports of a mysterious serial killer in my area, so all my doors and windows were locked. He had killed a number of people already, yet he had left no evidence.

Soon I noticed a man running through my backyard chased by a figure whom I could not make out. He was caught and the mysterious figure sliced open a major blood vessel in his lower right leg. The mysterious figure then retreated into the shadows to watch his impending death from a distance.

Eventually the wounded man made it to my door and asked for help. Two of my friends who were there drove the man to a clinic while I looked for the mysterious figure. I used my presence to create a diversion, preventing the mysterious figure from pursuing the car. After I felt they were safe I went to the clinic myself.

As I arrived they were coming back out--the wounded man's injuries were too great and he needed to be taken to the hospital. I looked out the rear window to see if the mysterious man was there, when I was surprised by a yell by the driver--"I've been poisoned!" His hands had become swollen and it was difficult to steer. His breathing became quick. My other friend took over before she too came down with the same symptoms.

Then I took over, but as I was leaning over from the back seat I too got the swollen hands. Then we noticed a pair of gardening gloves in the middle console, lightly dusted with powder--that was the source of the poison! And in the rear view mirror we saw him, suddenly: the gardener.

We rushed to the hospital. We sped past some cops who pursued us, but we didn't stop. They chased us all the way to the emergency entrance of the general hospital. My friends rushed him inside, while I threw the gloves at the cops screaming warnings about poison and about the gardener who was probably invading our respective homes trying to erase all evidence for his existence, including our lives. By merely telling the officer about him her life was now in danger!

Then I woke up.

Beautiful

I saw an old friend today.

She looked like she had been through a natural disaster. Her hair was dishevelled, and a bit damp. Her clothes looked like she was desperately trying anything to stay warm, regardless of what those clothes happened to look like. Her face looked exhausted. She looked like a mess and not very attractive.

Later, I google searched for hot women in dresses on the internet. After a few minutes, I quit, because they didn't look all that hot. I mean, yes, they looked "hot," if "hot" had a specific definition and could be factory-produced. Makeup here, here, and here; this colour with this colour; this certain expression. They just weren't... attractive.

I just kept comparing the models to my friend and the models just couldn't compare, even though she was not at her best. Why was that?

I thought about it some more. The models looked shallow, fake, unreal. Maybe her colours clashed, but she was less than a foot away from me. Her curves were real; her complexion was real; she was three-dimensional, living, breathing, right there.

So there you have it. People are real. Pictures aren't. Real is beautiful. Fake is not. Alive looks dynamic. Inanimate looks... dead.

P.S. And if you're reading this, dear friend, you're supposed to take this as a silent compliment.

America is not a Christian nation

America claims to be a Christian country, but she isn't. She's an ancient Hebrew country, one who supports "eye for an eye" and the killing of "pagans" and "idol worshippers" for no other reason than "God said so." A justice system that teaches you to take pleasure at the suffering of the one who caused you pain. Not even modern Jews believe in that anymore.

Christ said "turn the other cheek." Christ allowed himself to receive capital punishment for a crime he didn't commit. When the rulers came to stone a woman caught in adultery in accordance to their law, Christ stopped them and said "let he who is without sin cast the first stone." He was the only sinless man there that day; and he said "neither do I condemn you--go, and sin no more." He taught us that the only way to heal, the only way to peace, is to forgive.

Now if America wants to be an ancient Jewish nation, that's perfectly okay with me. People have the freedom to be whatever they want to be. Just stop tarnishing the name of Jesus by claiming to be a Christian nation.

Love, actually

When do you decide that your heart has had enough? When do you stop trying?

Is their something about letting your heart get broken by yet another woman that makes you stronger? Wiser? A better person?

Or is the act of being willing itself salvation? Is giving up the death blow?

I suppose it's a metaphor for life itself. Life absolutely sucks. Every day you go to work, come home exhausted, and fill your leisure hours with something designed to take your mind off of life because it sucks so much. You spend life escaping from life. But the moment you give up on all of that, you die. This sucky life is all we have, so we persevere.

So it is with love. Falling in love sucks. It sucks because it's always unrequited. (If not immediately, then eventually.) You close your eyes and dream, escape from reality, and there fall in love with the girl of your dreams, because in real life she doesn't love you back. But the moment you give up on love, your heart dies, and you become a cold, miserable creature. This sucky love is all we have, so we persevere, and try to fall in love again.

It's pointless in the sense that we never achieve our goal; but it's the most important part of life in the sense that it is what keeps us alive.

If there were no God...

If there were no God...

If there were no heaven... no hell below us... and no religion too...

Would you act any differently?

Would you be a different person?

For me, I think that would be a yes. What would be different about me?

Well, since I'd have no reason to save myself for marriage I'd probably have slept with someone by now. (On the other hand, since I'm a skinny nerd, and since I've never had a girlfriend, perhaps not.)

I'd probably go into crime. I mean, given that everyone has insurance these days I can just waltz into any store, take what I want, and leave; and the poor store owner won't be any less wealthy because of it. The insurance people, maybe, but does anyone here actually think insurance people aren't criminal with the rates they charge? Someone I know was once charged $6,000 a year in car insurance for a car that was worth $4,000. I have no pity for insurance brokers.

I suppose there'd be the risk of getting caught and spending some time in prison, and the rest of your life with a criminal record. Was reading the story of some poor bloke who was charged with possession of marijuana 35 years ago, received a pardon 25 years ago, and now is flagged whenever he tries to enter the US, arrested, and swiftly deported.

But police don't have the resources to protect everything. A cautious criminal should be able to get away with a lot. I'd probably need martial arts training and a steady supply of rubber gloves, but it's doable. Isn't stealing things so much more profitable than earning them yourself?

Maybe if someone made me angry I could go kill them. There'd be the threat of turning them into a martyr, which would be very bad. But if you pick your spots and are careful you probably won't get caught.

See, without a God, there's no reason to be moral. You have to be moral to the people more powerful than you, yes, or else you risk getting taken out yourself. But to people weaker than you? People who have no ability to exact revenge? Absolutely no reason, if you're quiet about it and it doesn't affect your reputation. Am I wrong here?

So if the only reason I am moral is because there's a God, and there's a heaven awaiting those who make good decisions in life, doesn't that make me selfish? Aren't I just doing good just to get into heaven?

And if you're a good person out of selfishness, are you really a good person? If you're doing good just for a reward, are you really a good person?

But no, I say, I'm not doing good just to get into heaven. I'm doing good because we're in a war, and I'm just backing the winning side. Isn't that just a desire to be right? That same way people don't back down from arguments because they want to be right? Is that really any better?

It's easy to love people close to you. It isn't that hard to love people you know. But a complete stranger? An empty organizational entity? It's easy to cheat something when it doesn't affect you.

Can anyone, truly, love? Can anyone be good for good reasons? Would a world without religion truly be at peace?

Life Repeats Itself

Somewhere in college I heard a description of the generations of the American Dream.

Generation 1: The Immigrants. Through hard work they ensure that their children receive the best possible education.
Generation 2: The Educated. This generation reaps the benefits of the sacrifices their parents made and roll in the dough.
Generation 3: The Coddled. This generation uses the wealth of their parents on whatever it is they please. Often choose careers that have little to do with wealth.

It's a wonderful theory. It might have found its application in the real world somewhere. But it doesn't apply to my family.

My great-grandfather, I recently learned, had a dream: to go to California. He never made it. He got stopped in Windsor, worked in a car plant for a few months, was laid off, and spent the rest of his life struggling to get a job.

My grandfather was unable to get an education due to some of his father's decisions. He spent the rest of his life working hard so that his children would not face the same fate. When he was laid off he would find work, anywhere. And he struggled through life's toils.

My father completed high school, unlike his ancestors. After getting a good factory job, he decided he needed to see the world, so he enlisted in the navy. Sometime later he got into a terrible car accident that severely curtailed his work options in the future. He has so far spent the remainder of his life chasing whatever work he could find. He struggled mightily through life's toils, often working 80 hours a week, hoping that, unlike his father and grandfather before him, his children would make it.

I got a college education. Well, part of one--after changing my program three years in, I ran out of money. I owe $85,000 in tuition debt. Without a degree, I was also without certification and without the ability to get a job in my field. I have been unemployed nine months.

There's a few ways you could take this. First off, everyone struggles. Perhaps to different degrees, or in different areas, but everyone struggles. Life is a struggle, and everyone has their own unique challenges to face.

Second, is the American Dream real? Perhaps that answer is yes to the 0.1% who win at life. For the rest of us, isn't it that same slog our parents and grandparents went through? You never do end up paying off your debts.

Of course, if life challenges everyone, then we can all be judged fairly, so there is that to consider.

But back to the point: life repeats itself. Knowing this, how does one respond? Find a way to break the circle? Or enjoy the ride?