There were two dreams I had back to back a few weeks ago. I should have recorded them earlier but I didn't
The first took place on a moonless night I was standing outside what looked like a crypt or a run down mansion or something like that.
All around me were people I didn't know...and yet I knew. They were holding torches and all looking at me, everyone was silent. I was to go inside the mansion to fight, or rescue some one. I can't really remember but it was something dangerous. In the middle of the crowd -addressing me- was someone with a white beard though in the dream I remember specifically not daring to look at his face for some reason. He spoke on behalf of the crowd. He said I had to go in there alone and that they couldn't help me complete the task, only I could do so. Then he said "And yet, we will be with you."
He handed me a dagger made of silver and gold and inlaid with diamonds. Even when it was sheathed I remember it being incredibly brilliant. I bowed to the man and went inside.
It was so dark and so cold. The sense of foreboding was repressive. The darkness was almost tangible. I was so frightened, but I still felt like there was someone there with me, just out of sight, moving with me in step.
The first thing I ran into was a person. At least I thought it was a person at first but I quickly realized it was a spirit. The spirit was weaselly, twitchy, nervous and kept insisting on me giving him the dagger and to follow him. I didn't want to go anywhere near him let alone give him my new gift. To avoid getting too close, I picked up a pole on the ground and tied the dagger to the end to make a make-shift spear. I slashed at him a couple of times and hit him. He screamed and ran off quickly down a dark passageway.
Now encouraged, I followed him, I didn't want him to get away. I lost him and found myself in a room without completely devoid of light yet eerily illuminated.
There was a woman laying on the floor hair covering her face completely. She was crying hysterically. I bent down to see what was wrong then realized she was a spirit as well. When I realized this, she looked up at me, she was asking something of me, pleading but I couldn't understand. She buried her face in her hands again and said "He is coming".
After this an ear splitting scream ripped the air. I spirit appeared in the air, he covered his ears as if trying to silence some horrible noise. After he couldn't take it anymore, he started tearing at his chest. He tore himself to pieces saying "This is the fury, this is the torment!...".
After he had gone. I noticed the woman dissappeared as well.
Utter silence descended, the comforting feeling of that unseen companion left. The room I was in was a living room. In front of the fireplace was a coffee table and a strange book on top, already open. The book had only pictures no words. As I looked at it. One final spirit appeared. This one had no form, no face, it was just darkness. It spoke many words to me but the only ones I remember were "Give in" "Give up" and "Join". Though it had no hands, the darkness engulfed me. I could feel it going inside me and I tried to tear it off, but it was just like smoke. Then I looked at the book. I saw a picture of myself, it was moving. I was in the middle of a dark forest. I saw the same darkness that was engulfing me, engulf the me in the picture. I saw myself completely overcome, I turned into a horrible monster.
At that point, I remembered the dagger. I ripped it from the sheath and slashed at the darkness wildly, frantically. It dissipated with a howl of pain.
The next thing I remember is the sun rising, and this begins the second part of my dream.
I was in the wooded, meadow-like area in the book, though this time it was not shrouded in darkness. I fought along side other people. We were in a war, all clad in armor. Again, I did not know the people, yet they seemed so familiar. Among us, however, there was a dragon that fought with us.
Shortly into the battle. A disembodied voice floated through the air saying something, but I don't remember. We all paused and all was still. Sunrise instantly changed to sunset.
The dragon who fought with us, dropped from the sky and was consumed in a haze of darkness. Then It flew off, it was no longer the same creature it was bony, dead and terrifying.
The next instant, the setting changed. I was no longer in a field, but on the walls of great fortress. Below us, hundreds of feet down, I could see the same enemy as before in vast numbers.
A rumbling noise made me and my comrades turn around and rising above a tower inside the city walls, was that same dragon as before. I remember him looking directly at me. My fellows and I rushed at him slashing at its feet and gouging it's neck. It bathed us all in waves of fire, yet I don't remember seeing a single one of us deterred or harmed in the slightest. We kept fighting undaunted, but so did the beast. The killing blow was struck, a sword through the heart. I woke up shortly after.
The first battle I stood alone, the second battle I stood united.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
***Insight*** Never the End
For those who read these, you have most likely heard my words already. But know this: I dedicate this blog not only to Scott Nye, but to all of our fallen. No...come to think of it, I cannot rightly call them "fallen". Fallen denotes them as having been stripped of something, degraded. Well, that simply is not true, in fact it is the opposite. They are Ascendants not Fallen. They have gone onto a higher stage in life. They have ascended to glory.
Why is it that you weep for those have passed on? Why is it that we fear death?
Truly, what is there to fear? The fact is, birth and death are one in the same. Neither is a beginning or an end; we do not start with birth or end with death. They are merely a transition between realms.
Yet still, we fear death.
Is it because we fear the unknown? Is it because we associate death with pain? Is it because death takes our friends and family away from us?
The biggest fear about our deaths, I believe, is the unknown. And frankly, there is not an easy way for me to explain it. I just know, with every fiber and essence of my being that death is not the end of man. For me to deny such a fact, would be trying to pretend that the sun is not in the sky at high-noon. If I were to oppose it, I would be blinded: blinded by the truth. Have faith in my testimony, becuase I can find no words to do justice to it.
Also, no one on earth wants to die in a way other than as an old, old person and to go peacefully in their sleep. Unfortunately, this is not reality. Sometimes death can be horrific in its savagery, violence and carnage. Yet, people go through pain everyday. People have amputations, undergo Chemo-therapy, Child Birth, are horribly maimed in accidents, burned in fire or by bombs, struck by animals, beaten within and inch of their lives, or even struck by lightning. If anything, death after such pain would be a blissful relief, but most of the time such pain leaves us terribly crippled...but alive. So I say, fear pain, do not fear death.
Death is swift, it takes us by surprise. It takes away our loved ones away like the wind carries off the leaves of fall. However, people almost never realize that this is but one of many, many worlds. Death merely gives our loved ones a "head start". Ahead of us, but never away forever. As we lose our companions on this side of the veil, anxious family members await them on the other side to greet those who have been taken from us with open arms and hearts. The same is true for birth, though few ever realize it. As one side looses, the other side gains. Can you imagine the looks on the faces of our family members from beyond the veil as we stepped through and entered into this world? To them, it would be as death is for us. Yet, when we recieve a newborn baby, it is a day of immense joy. Death is the reunion of our family members who were taken away by birth.
Death delivers us from this world of suffering. The deceased's tests are over. As you look upon the grave of a brother who has moved on, please, try to have joy in your heart! Know that it is not only part of God's plan and will, but it also marks the end of a life full of tears, fears, and pain. Where as, when you look upon a baby, know that this is but the very beginning of life of torment and hardship. Know that that baby's fate is yet unwritten and it must face all the trials of life that we have already.
In conclusion, death is only a part of life. It is a peacegiver and comforter. Those who have been momentarily taken from us will be reunited with us, forever, in the blink of an eye. After all, what is our time, here, in this world, faced with the vastness of eternity? Death is only a good-bye, not a farewell.
*Death is only tragic when the deceased has failed to meet their obligations or show their love both to God and to their bretheren.*
For those who read these, you have most likely heard my words already. But know this: I dedicate this blog not only to Scott Nye, but to all of our fallen. No...come to think of it, I cannot rightly call them "fallen". Fallen denotes them as having been stripped of something, degraded. Well, that simply is not true, in fact it is the opposite. They are Ascendants not Fallen. They have gone onto a higher stage in life. They have ascended to glory.
Why is it that you weep for those have passed on? Why is it that we fear death?
Truly, what is there to fear? The fact is, birth and death are one in the same. Neither is a beginning or an end; we do not start with birth or end with death. They are merely a transition between realms.
Yet still, we fear death.
Is it because we fear the unknown? Is it because we associate death with pain? Is it because death takes our friends and family away from us?
The biggest fear about our deaths, I believe, is the unknown. And frankly, there is not an easy way for me to explain it. I just know, with every fiber and essence of my being that death is not the end of man. For me to deny such a fact, would be trying to pretend that the sun is not in the sky at high-noon. If I were to oppose it, I would be blinded: blinded by the truth. Have faith in my testimony, becuase I can find no words to do justice to it.
Also, no one on earth wants to die in a way other than as an old, old person and to go peacefully in their sleep. Unfortunately, this is not reality. Sometimes death can be horrific in its savagery, violence and carnage. Yet, people go through pain everyday. People have amputations, undergo Chemo-therapy, Child Birth, are horribly maimed in accidents, burned in fire or by bombs, struck by animals, beaten within and inch of their lives, or even struck by lightning. If anything, death after such pain would be a blissful relief, but most of the time such pain leaves us terribly crippled...but alive. So I say, fear pain, do not fear death.
Death is swift, it takes us by surprise. It takes away our loved ones away like the wind carries off the leaves of fall. However, people almost never realize that this is but one of many, many worlds. Death merely gives our loved ones a "head start". Ahead of us, but never away forever. As we lose our companions on this side of the veil, anxious family members await them on the other side to greet those who have been taken from us with open arms and hearts. The same is true for birth, though few ever realize it. As one side looses, the other side gains. Can you imagine the looks on the faces of our family members from beyond the veil as we stepped through and entered into this world? To them, it would be as death is for us. Yet, when we recieve a newborn baby, it is a day of immense joy. Death is the reunion of our family members who were taken away by birth.
Death delivers us from this world of suffering. The deceased's tests are over. As you look upon the grave of a brother who has moved on, please, try to have joy in your heart! Know that it is not only part of God's plan and will, but it also marks the end of a life full of tears, fears, and pain. Where as, when you look upon a baby, know that this is but the very beginning of life of torment and hardship. Know that that baby's fate is yet unwritten and it must face all the trials of life that we have already.
In conclusion, death is only a part of life. It is a peacegiver and comforter. Those who have been momentarily taken from us will be reunited with us, forever, in the blink of an eye. After all, what is our time, here, in this world, faced with the vastness of eternity? Death is only a good-bye, not a farewell.
*Death is only tragic when the deceased has failed to meet their obligations or show their love both to God and to their bretheren.*
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Sunday, August 19, 2007
***Insight*** Fate, The Truth of "Preordination"?
Lately, I have heard many people talk about the inescapable reality that is fate or destiny.
I was surprised to learn about how many people out there believe that whatever actions they take will all have the same outcome, their stories have already been written by God.
I have VERY strong feelings on fate. And that is that I do NOT believe in it.
If God has truly decided all of our paths already, then that means he has doomed many of his own children? He has driven His children to murder, rape, be put in prison, cheat, steal...in other words, work against His own commandments that he put in place.
In essence, if all was preordained then WHY would God need to give us commandments in the first place? We wouldnt need them if no matter what we did we would end up the same way anyways.
And besides all this, if our paths have been chosen, then what is the point of us even being alive? Life would have no purpose.
The War in Heaven was fought over this principle, the principle of choice. And if you remember, haaving no choice, to be forced down a predetermined way was Lucifer's way, NOT God's way. Life is a test. Without choices, it's like the test have been done for and we are just free to goof around.
Does this mean I think God has no hand in our lives? No. Does this mean that I don't think everything happens for a reason? That every action that we take doesn't have significance in our lives? No. I do believe our actions have significance. Things do happen for a reason.
I believe that God DOES nudge us to the best path, but ultimately that which happens to us is a product of our actions. However, I am NOT stripping God of His Almighty Power. His word is law. His will be done. If He wants something to happen, it WILL happen no matter our decisicions.
However, before that last comment counters everything I have just worked to achieve, I must add this.
God knows the perfect balance to His actions: If he did too much people would grow dependent and feel inhuman, like tools. Yet, if he did too little people would loose hope and grow vastly prideful, without moral restrictions thinking they are the pilots of their universe.
Lately, I have heard many people talk about the inescapable reality that is fate or destiny.
I was surprised to learn about how many people out there believe that whatever actions they take will all have the same outcome, their stories have already been written by God.
I have VERY strong feelings on fate. And that is that I do NOT believe in it.
If God has truly decided all of our paths already, then that means he has doomed many of his own children? He has driven His children to murder, rape, be put in prison, cheat, steal...in other words, work against His own commandments that he put in place.
In essence, if all was preordained then WHY would God need to give us commandments in the first place? We wouldnt need them if no matter what we did we would end up the same way anyways.
And besides all this, if our paths have been chosen, then what is the point of us even being alive? Life would have no purpose.
The War in Heaven was fought over this principle, the principle of choice. And if you remember, haaving no choice, to be forced down a predetermined way was Lucifer's way, NOT God's way. Life is a test. Without choices, it's like the test have been done for and we are just free to goof around.
Does this mean I think God has no hand in our lives? No. Does this mean that I don't think everything happens for a reason? That every action that we take doesn't have significance in our lives? No. I do believe our actions have significance. Things do happen for a reason.
I believe that God DOES nudge us to the best path, but ultimately that which happens to us is a product of our actions. However, I am NOT stripping God of His Almighty Power. His word is law. His will be done. If He wants something to happen, it WILL happen no matter our decisicions.
However, before that last comment counters everything I have just worked to achieve, I must add this.
God knows the perfect balance to His actions: If he did too much people would grow dependent and feel inhuman, like tools. Yet, if he did too little people would loose hope and grow vastly prideful, without moral restrictions thinking they are the pilots of their universe.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
This...this is the secret I have been searching for in simplest form. Perhaps there are more. This shall be both the answer and the strength. Part of this came from a dream. A type of dream that I have had before. A dream I don't forget and understand...
We are all as one: each apart of one another.
We are family.
We are the Celestial.
We Cannot Fail.
We are all as one: each apart of one another.
We are family.
We are the Celestial.
We Cannot Fail.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
***Insight*** Being Rock, Not clay
It's sad really.
Sometimes I think people forget that they are people. Instead they just want to become part of "the big picture" to fit in with everyone else.
Society as a whole is so, uncaring, critical, and unforgiving. I don't understand why anyone would want to seek its approval. But that is understandable I suppose. One of a persons emotional needs they have is the Need to Be loved and Accepted.
However, some people have this need so extremely, that they completely strip themselves of their personality, of everything that makes them them. Then, just as a sculptor would do to clay, they let society mold them into something that society deems as "acceptable", "normal", or "cool".
Eventually, the clay begins to "harden." This new form becomes their new reality. That person doesn't know who they are anymore, they just know what society tells them.
That person would be accepted, yes, but some people might still not like the person. So, that person tries to adapt again, letting themselves once again be molded to try to please some of the other people.
But what if some in society still don't like this person? Will they continue to let themselves be molded, changing one form to please one party while losing the favor of another party.
"You can't please everybody."
Eventually, this person is emotionally and mentally lost. They don't know who they are. All they know is what they see in the mirror.
Who would want this reality? Who would want to seek the approval of everyone? Quite Frankly, there are people out there who you DON'T want to please anyways.
I have a strong testimony of being yourself, whatever that might mean. I have found, through personal experience that this is one of the keys to Happiness. Through being yourself, you switch roles, this time you are the sculptor. With your upbeat attitude, and confidence in knowing who you are and what you want, YOU begin to change those around you.
It's sad really.
Sometimes I think people forget that they are people. Instead they just want to become part of "the big picture" to fit in with everyone else.
Society as a whole is so, uncaring, critical, and unforgiving. I don't understand why anyone would want to seek its approval. But that is understandable I suppose. One of a persons emotional needs they have is the Need to Be loved and Accepted.
However, some people have this need so extremely, that they completely strip themselves of their personality, of everything that makes them them. Then, just as a sculptor would do to clay, they let society mold them into something that society deems as "acceptable", "normal", or "cool".
Eventually, the clay begins to "harden." This new form becomes their new reality. That person doesn't know who they are anymore, they just know what society tells them.
That person would be accepted, yes, but some people might still not like the person. So, that person tries to adapt again, letting themselves once again be molded to try to please some of the other people.
But what if some in society still don't like this person? Will they continue to let themselves be molded, changing one form to please one party while losing the favor of another party.
"You can't please everybody."
Eventually, this person is emotionally and mentally lost. They don't know who they are. All they know is what they see in the mirror.
Who would want this reality? Who would want to seek the approval of everyone? Quite Frankly, there are people out there who you DON'T want to please anyways.
I have a strong testimony of being yourself, whatever that might mean. I have found, through personal experience that this is one of the keys to Happiness. Through being yourself, you switch roles, this time you are the sculptor. With your upbeat attitude, and confidence in knowing who you are and what you want, YOU begin to change those around you.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
***Insight*** Service and Work
This kinda feels like Deja Vu but I have strong feelings on this so I will will write...
I have grown so much much through these two things. There is so much I could write about with both of them, but in order to keep my thoughts straight and to keep making sense I'll start off with writing about the first.
Service humbles you. Bottom line. Each time you go out of your way to better anothers life you get a little wider, clearer view of the world. You find yourself thankful for the blessings you have recieved. You learn dedication, hardwork, social skills, and most important of all you grow closer to your fellow man. Of course, such benefits can be overlooked if you look at service in a negative light. If so, service can actually harm rather than help. However, if you do manage to find the silverlining in your work, it is you who reaps more benefits then those that you help. By working with people to ease their pain, whether emotional or physical, it can unlock the secrets you have sought for in yourself. I say: "The only way to truly see yourself is to look through anothers eyes." This is one of the greatest boons of service. Service is a very special thing. It's like love really...heck it is love! It benefits both people and it's a bond that draws them both closer together. Wouldn't you say that is what love is?
One of the truths that I have discovered is this: "Anything worth having, takes works; one can gain nothing without giving up something else of equal value."
This is the principle behind work. Work is very similar to service in that it can help you grow, or it can break you down, depending on your outlook. Work teaches Diligence, endurance, focus, and even faith. Some believe that one does not have to work to achieve ones goals. They call this "talent" they say "some have it and some don't". In their eyes, if you are not good at something or cannot achieve something the first time around, you can never do so.
The fraud in this statement is clearly evident. Albert Einstein, was the slowest child in his classes. He did not speak until age 4. Everyone considered him stupid. However, he believed in the (and these are what I like to call them) "Laws of Work and Equal Exchange" and one of his famous is quotes is this " It's not necessarily that I am 'smarter' than anyone else, it's just that I stay with problems longer." Many other examples are these: Martin Luther King Jr., Helen Keller, Thomas Edison ( it took him over over one thousand tries to come up witht he lightbulb), Steven Hawking (he is crippled by Polio and yet he did not let that stop him from becoming what many say "the most brilliant man since Einstein") Galileo and Copernicus (Imprisoned many times by the Catholic Church for their research, and yet their knowledge has become the basis of our knowledge today). The beauty behind the "Laws of Work and Equal Exchange" is this; "if you desire it and if you seek it, you shall find it."
Through Service learn to grow from others and through work learn to grow from diligence. And through these things, knowledge shall come to you like dissipation of clouds at sunrise.
This kinda feels like Deja Vu but I have strong feelings on this so I will will write...
I have grown so much much through these two things. There is so much I could write about with both of them, but in order to keep my thoughts straight and to keep making sense I'll start off with writing about the first.
Service humbles you. Bottom line. Each time you go out of your way to better anothers life you get a little wider, clearer view of the world. You find yourself thankful for the blessings you have recieved. You learn dedication, hardwork, social skills, and most important of all you grow closer to your fellow man. Of course, such benefits can be overlooked if you look at service in a negative light. If so, service can actually harm rather than help. However, if you do manage to find the silverlining in your work, it is you who reaps more benefits then those that you help. By working with people to ease their pain, whether emotional or physical, it can unlock the secrets you have sought for in yourself. I say: "The only way to truly see yourself is to look through anothers eyes." This is one of the greatest boons of service. Service is a very special thing. It's like love really...heck it is love! It benefits both people and it's a bond that draws them both closer together. Wouldn't you say that is what love is?
One of the truths that I have discovered is this: "Anything worth having, takes works; one can gain nothing without giving up something else of equal value."
This is the principle behind work. Work is very similar to service in that it can help you grow, or it can break you down, depending on your outlook. Work teaches Diligence, endurance, focus, and even faith. Some believe that one does not have to work to achieve ones goals. They call this "talent" they say "some have it and some don't". In their eyes, if you are not good at something or cannot achieve something the first time around, you can never do so.
The fraud in this statement is clearly evident. Albert Einstein, was the slowest child in his classes. He did not speak until age 4. Everyone considered him stupid. However, he believed in the (and these are what I like to call them) "Laws of Work and Equal Exchange" and one of his famous is quotes is this " It's not necessarily that I am 'smarter' than anyone else, it's just that I stay with problems longer." Many other examples are these: Martin Luther King Jr., Helen Keller, Thomas Edison ( it took him over over one thousand tries to come up witht he lightbulb), Steven Hawking (he is crippled by Polio and yet he did not let that stop him from becoming what many say "the most brilliant man since Einstein") Galileo and Copernicus (Imprisoned many times by the Catholic Church for their research, and yet their knowledge has become the basis of our knowledge today). The beauty behind the "Laws of Work and Equal Exchange" is this; "if you desire it and if you seek it, you shall find it."
Through Service learn to grow from others and through work learn to grow from diligence. And through these things, knowledge shall come to you like dissipation of clouds at sunrise.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
I thought that I had myself figured out.
I thought that I had complete control overthings.
I thought that I would be recongised for my struggles.
I thought I was heading in the right direction.
I may have been mistaken.
On one hand, I feel like a baby for making this post, and yet I really need to get this off my chest or else this will consume me.
The moment of "revelation", if you will, arrived at me the night of Falcon Finale. But it started far, far before that.
I have mentioned before that I have always had the need to strive to be the best. But lately, I have been able to analyze myself deeper than that. Yes, I want to stand out, to be the best. However, I want to do so without having to try all that hard. I think that I half expected the world to realise how great (I feel)I am as a person without my having to prove it. I also wanted to believe that if I feel that I am working harder than everyone else, I will ALWAYS achieve my goals.
Slowly overtime, these beliefs have slowly deteriorated. However, it all came crashing down on Falcon Finale.
It almost did me in.
I knew I would not get the Science award; I had gathered this from Mr. Erickson already. It didn't matter.
I KNEW I would get First Falcon.
I was thrown a curveball when I got the Spanish award. A nice bonus; I figured it would go well with my First Falcon Award.
"Given to the student who is Well-rounded, A good Scholar, A great Citizen, and a person who participates in a variety of school activites." That's in the bag I thought.
7th grade: 4.0 roll twice, High Honor Roll twice, mediocre Track runner, wrestler.
8th grade: 4.0 roll all terms, champion varsity wrestler, district lvl track runner, State Champ and National Level Science Olympian.
9th grade: 4.0 once (hopefully twice), High Honor Roll twice, District Champion track runner, State Champ and National Level Science Olympain, and (generally) I thought a good majority of people knew me and were my friends.
No, that all came crashing down around me; I was stunned when I found out I hadn't even been nominated. Everything kinda lost color and I was lost in myself. Everytime I saw the candidates up on stage, I could feel stabbing pain inside.
I had lost. Again.
I had lost everything.
I didn't ever take home a wrestling medal, NSO medal, or even a Track medal.
Those hurt enough.
This was my last glimmer of hope, and in the course of a few seconds I realised, all was lost.
Game Over.
I thought that I had complete control overthings.
I thought that I would be recongised for my struggles.
I thought I was heading in the right direction.
I may have been mistaken.
On one hand, I feel like a baby for making this post, and yet I really need to get this off my chest or else this will consume me.
The moment of "revelation", if you will, arrived at me the night of Falcon Finale. But it started far, far before that.
I have mentioned before that I have always had the need to strive to be the best. But lately, I have been able to analyze myself deeper than that. Yes, I want to stand out, to be the best. However, I want to do so without having to try all that hard. I think that I half expected the world to realise how great (I feel)I am as a person without my having to prove it. I also wanted to believe that if I feel that I am working harder than everyone else, I will ALWAYS achieve my goals.
Slowly overtime, these beliefs have slowly deteriorated. However, it all came crashing down on Falcon Finale.
It almost did me in.
I knew I would not get the Science award; I had gathered this from Mr. Erickson already. It didn't matter.
I KNEW I would get First Falcon.
I was thrown a curveball when I got the Spanish award. A nice bonus; I figured it would go well with my First Falcon Award.
"Given to the student who is Well-rounded, A good Scholar, A great Citizen, and a person who participates in a variety of school activites." That's in the bag I thought.
7th grade: 4.0 roll twice, High Honor Roll twice, mediocre Track runner, wrestler.
8th grade: 4.0 roll all terms, champion varsity wrestler, district lvl track runner, State Champ and National Level Science Olympian.
9th grade: 4.0 once (hopefully twice), High Honor Roll twice, District Champion track runner, State Champ and National Level Science Olympain, and (generally) I thought a good majority of people knew me and were my friends.
No, that all came crashing down around me; I was stunned when I found out I hadn't even been nominated. Everything kinda lost color and I was lost in myself. Everytime I saw the candidates up on stage, I could feel stabbing pain inside.
I had lost. Again.
I had lost everything.
I didn't ever take home a wrestling medal, NSO medal, or even a Track medal.
Those hurt enough.
This was my last glimmer of hope, and in the course of a few seconds I realised, all was lost.
Game Over.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
At times, one might wonder why the world is so tough on ones self.
I have heard many different testimonies from many different people, and I feel that I believe them; however, I have found that no matter what people say and think they believe, they can only ever fully believe once they have experienced for themselves. This applies to me as well.
During track one day (man, it felt like 100 degrees!) Everyone was to run a little over a mile. I gulped, and got ready for what lay ahead.
I started off well, I was near the front of the group. But after a couple of minutes, one person passed me, then two, then another two, then three (bearing in mind of course that some of these people were distance runners). I saw my friends gradually pulling away.
Each breath felt like daggers inside me. My arms were rusted metal and my worn legs cried out, "Please, for heavens sake, STOP!" My mind kept saying, "This is madness you are going to hurt yourself," yet at the same time a voice said "Don't let them beat you! Keep going, you can do it!"
All this, And I realised I wasn't even half way.
At 60% of the way done my body said to was crying "You HAVE to stop...at least slow down...you are going to pass out...you have reached your limit."
But, at the same time I felt myself thinking "You CANNOT stop...this is nothing...you can go faster...pull out a little more...more....more..."
I thought my body had reached its limit. But, it was myself that was the limit all along. At 3/4 of the way done, I was having no problem. The pain was nullified. My breathing was tolerable. I passed those same people who had passed me and a few more. I finished off with a sprint.
This small and humble, yet incredibly valuable situation put things in perspective for me.
THIS is what trials are for. They awaken potential, test will, body and soul, push you to that which you think is your absolute limit, and more.
But If you emerge victorious, you will become stronger than you could have ever imagined.
I have heard many different testimonies from many different people, and I feel that I believe them; however, I have found that no matter what people say and think they believe, they can only ever fully believe once they have experienced for themselves. This applies to me as well.
During track one day (man, it felt like 100 degrees!) Everyone was to run a little over a mile. I gulped, and got ready for what lay ahead.
I started off well, I was near the front of the group. But after a couple of minutes, one person passed me, then two, then another two, then three (bearing in mind of course that some of these people were distance runners). I saw my friends gradually pulling away.
Each breath felt like daggers inside me. My arms were rusted metal and my worn legs cried out, "Please, for heavens sake, STOP!" My mind kept saying, "This is madness you are going to hurt yourself," yet at the same time a voice said "Don't let them beat you! Keep going, you can do it!"
All this, And I realised I wasn't even half way.
At 60% of the way done my body said to was crying "You HAVE to stop...at least slow down...you are going to pass out...you have reached your limit."
But, at the same time I felt myself thinking "You CANNOT stop...this is nothing...you can go faster...pull out a little more...more....more..."
I thought my body had reached its limit. But, it was myself that was the limit all along. At 3/4 of the way done, I was having no problem. The pain was nullified. My breathing was tolerable. I passed those same people who had passed me and a few more. I finished off with a sprint.
This small and humble, yet incredibly valuable situation put things in perspective for me.
THIS is what trials are for. They awaken potential, test will, body and soul, push you to that which you think is your absolute limit, and more.
But If you emerge victorious, you will become stronger than you could have ever imagined.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Pride is the greatest plague on humanity today. Lately, I have been having some very humbling experiences. Sometimes, the occurences are numerous but insignificant. However, other times they are large demons that I have to deal with.
I'm not sure why I have been put through all this as of late, but I am sure it will all turn out for the best.
One of the things that keeps tearing at me is that my mom has CONSTANTLY been nagging, criticizing, and insisting that she is right ( but to be fair, I'm not sure whether it's because of mood-swings I'm having or just that my mom is acting differently). I cannot go a day without her having said something dissapproving. In response to these trials, instead of talking back or arguing (the which I have never done or dare to do) I just go to my room and try to escape. But then she gets all upset and says I don't spend any time with her any more.
Hehe, yes it is a vicious cylce.
One of the other major occurences that have been happening recently is the Track Meets. I am a fast runner, and somewhere deep inside myself I'm sure I know that. However, I keep feeling the need to prove myself. Everytime I run a race, when I'm done I know I could have done better (whether I actually tried my best or not).
I guess my biggest problem is that I want to be noticed, important, and maybe even admired. I want so bad to be the best in all that I do. But with the way I choose to spend my time, I know this to be impossible.
I dunno how I will get over such things, if ever, and I do not know what will become of me after. Perhaps, I may not even get over it at all.
I'm not sure why I have been put through all this as of late, but I am sure it will all turn out for the best.
One of the things that keeps tearing at me is that my mom has CONSTANTLY been nagging, criticizing, and insisting that she is right ( but to be fair, I'm not sure whether it's because of mood-swings I'm having or just that my mom is acting differently). I cannot go a day without her having said something dissapproving. In response to these trials, instead of talking back or arguing (the which I have never done or dare to do) I just go to my room and try to escape. But then she gets all upset and says I don't spend any time with her any more.
Hehe, yes it is a vicious cylce.
One of the other major occurences that have been happening recently is the Track Meets. I am a fast runner, and somewhere deep inside myself I'm sure I know that. However, I keep feeling the need to prove myself. Everytime I run a race, when I'm done I know I could have done better (whether I actually tried my best or not).
I guess my biggest problem is that I want to be noticed, important, and maybe even admired. I want so bad to be the best in all that I do. But with the way I choose to spend my time, I know this to be impossible.
I dunno how I will get over such things, if ever, and I do not know what will become of me after. Perhaps, I may not even get over it at all.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Chapter 2
Almost 2 years had past since Xeran vanished from the village. Towards the setting sun, he ran, into the mountains. There he was hidden by the craggy rocks and mountainous dunes of the desert.
In time, the village started to forget all about Xeran. He was as real and important to them as a shadow. Noone ever spoke of him. Children were raised in ignorance of him or heard a ghost story told by hateful parents who distorted his image and turned him into a monster.
Even those who Xeran regarded as parents began to turn their minds to more important things and forget him.
Steadily, he faded out of memory. He had become a phantom, a dream, but to some, a nightmare. When strange or unsuspected things happened in the village, as a joke, people would begin to blame the accidents on him. A roasted pig left over the fire to long and burnt, strange foot prints at night, sudden gusts of cold night air, or an unnatural silence; all was "Xeran's doing."
Those who did remember him however were convinced that he had fled to far off lands. Some even insisted that he was dead. They would laugh at the thought of him being eaten by Horn-Demons or starving to death in the wilderness.
But no matter who it was, whether they remembered him or not, or whether or not they knew of him, none would go into the mountains into which he fled. Few remained out after sunset. And to those who believed him dead, they couldn't shake the feeling of eyes watching them, constantly, from the shadows. Something was out there, something was comming.
And they were right.
Almost 2 years had past since Xeran vanished from the village. Towards the setting sun, he ran, into the mountains. There he was hidden by the craggy rocks and mountainous dunes of the desert.
In time, the village started to forget all about Xeran. He was as real and important to them as a shadow. Noone ever spoke of him. Children were raised in ignorance of him or heard a ghost story told by hateful parents who distorted his image and turned him into a monster.
Even those who Xeran regarded as parents began to turn their minds to more important things and forget him.
Steadily, he faded out of memory. He had become a phantom, a dream, but to some, a nightmare. When strange or unsuspected things happened in the village, as a joke, people would begin to blame the accidents on him. A roasted pig left over the fire to long and burnt, strange foot prints at night, sudden gusts of cold night air, or an unnatural silence; all was "Xeran's doing."
Those who did remember him however were convinced that he had fled to far off lands. Some even insisted that he was dead. They would laugh at the thought of him being eaten by Horn-Demons or starving to death in the wilderness.
But no matter who it was, whether they remembered him or not, or whether or not they knew of him, none would go into the mountains into which he fled. Few remained out after sunset. And to those who believed him dead, they couldn't shake the feeling of eyes watching them, constantly, from the shadows. Something was out there, something was comming.
And they were right.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
This one would have been an Insight, but I don't know what I would have entitled it.
Generally speaking, people at our school are fairly respectful to each other. Yes, we have some real morons out there, but noone is a complete jerk.
However, there is a select group of people at our school who have never been rude, or violent, or uncaring, or even mad at us and yet many people shun them like the plague.
I'm talking about the Special Education kids.
I don't understand it. Why is it we treat these people so badly? It's not fair, they are not animals. They are just like you and I. The only difference between us is one chromosome; we have 46 most of them have 47.
I have noticed as they walk through the hall, people will stop talking, back away and stare as if they are watching a procession of ebola monkies. Some laugh even have the audacity to laugh or smirk at them when they go by or are scared of them as if they will somehow "infect" them with a horrid disease.
One kid in particular, who's name I will change to protect his identity, Eddy, is one of them happiest people I know. He's quite bright, and yet most everyone I know, especially my friends sadly, treat my dogs better than they treat him. Eddy is kind of like a child in that he mimics what my friends so. If they start slapping each other on the back, it's fun for them, but if Eddy does it, they yell at him and tell him to leave.
Honestly, I've talked to him before. He's harmless. He has an innocence that I find refeshing. It is something few people have anymore, especially at that age. He's not "annoying" like a lot of people say, but is just full of energy. He always has a smile on his face which transfers to me aswell. Then when he leaves me and goes to talk to someone else, the atmosphere around him changes. Once again he is verbally, and maybe even physically abused. That isn't cool. However, because of his mental handicap, I don't think he notices or minds the treatment he gets.
But still, my friends know better than to treat another person that way. I think they loose sight of that fact or maybe even disregard it simply because Eddy is different from them.
This whole thing pains me, it really does.
I think to myself, "What If I was in Eddy's shoes and he was in mine?" He leads a "normal" life while I am then shunned by all.
I am all alone, things that were once simple to me now make no sense as if written in an alien language.
I can't work my hands the same way anymore.
Maybe I have to concentrate just to walk now. Perhaps I see a boy opening his locker getting his books out for his next class.
I go over to him to say hello.
It's Eddy. What does he do now? Does ignore me? Does he tell me to go away? Does he just humor me or mock me? Does he dehumanize me?
Or maybe he smiles. Unlike all the others, he treats me like an equal. He talks and walks with me. He is my friend.
But the thing that saddens me the most is this; most of the Special Education kids, the ones with Down Syndrome (Trisomy 21), will most likely live past 21 years old. Some won't even make it out of their teens. What will those who once shunned them feel now? I'll bet you anything it will be crushing guilt. Guilt for making life a living you-know-what for another person.
Generally speaking, people at our school are fairly respectful to each other. Yes, we have some real morons out there, but noone is a complete jerk.
However, there is a select group of people at our school who have never been rude, or violent, or uncaring, or even mad at us and yet many people shun them like the plague.
I'm talking about the Special Education kids.
I don't understand it. Why is it we treat these people so badly? It's not fair, they are not animals. They are just like you and I. The only difference between us is one chromosome; we have 46 most of them have 47.
I have noticed as they walk through the hall, people will stop talking, back away and stare as if they are watching a procession of ebola monkies. Some laugh even have the audacity to laugh or smirk at them when they go by or are scared of them as if they will somehow "infect" them with a horrid disease.
One kid in particular, who's name I will change to protect his identity, Eddy, is one of them happiest people I know. He's quite bright, and yet most everyone I know, especially my friends sadly, treat my dogs better than they treat him. Eddy is kind of like a child in that he mimics what my friends so. If they start slapping each other on the back, it's fun for them, but if Eddy does it, they yell at him and tell him to leave.
Honestly, I've talked to him before. He's harmless. He has an innocence that I find refeshing. It is something few people have anymore, especially at that age. He's not "annoying" like a lot of people say, but is just full of energy. He always has a smile on his face which transfers to me aswell. Then when he leaves me and goes to talk to someone else, the atmosphere around him changes. Once again he is verbally, and maybe even physically abused. That isn't cool. However, because of his mental handicap, I don't think he notices or minds the treatment he gets.
But still, my friends know better than to treat another person that way. I think they loose sight of that fact or maybe even disregard it simply because Eddy is different from them.
This whole thing pains me, it really does.
I think to myself, "What If I was in Eddy's shoes and he was in mine?" He leads a "normal" life while I am then shunned by all.
I am all alone, things that were once simple to me now make no sense as if written in an alien language.
I can't work my hands the same way anymore.
Maybe I have to concentrate just to walk now. Perhaps I see a boy opening his locker getting his books out for his next class.
I go over to him to say hello.
It's Eddy. What does he do now? Does ignore me? Does he tell me to go away? Does he just humor me or mock me? Does he dehumanize me?
Or maybe he smiles. Unlike all the others, he treats me like an equal. He talks and walks with me. He is my friend.
But the thing that saddens me the most is this; most of the Special Education kids, the ones with Down Syndrome (Trisomy 21), will most likely live past 21 years old. Some won't even make it out of their teens. What will those who once shunned them feel now? I'll bet you anything it will be crushing guilt. Guilt for making life a living you-know-what for another person.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
It's pretty shameful to see some people in the world who have nothing but make a difference in other people's lives whereas those who have everything can only think of themselves.
I only mention this because last night while relaxing I stumbled across this show called "Daddy's Spoiled Little Girl." When I saw the title, I rolled my eyes. It was so painful to watch I hardly saw five minutes worth. What I saw in those five minutes though was disgracefully decadent, self-centered and wasteful.
A 15 year old Cali-Girl is throwing a birthday party. With her dad being a surgeon, cash was not a problem. Upon party supplies only, she spent over 800 dollars. 800 dollars? I couldn't believe it. Party supplies that will just be thrown away once they are used. 800 dollars. Wasted, gone, and for what? For a brats 15th birthday?
I turned the T.V. off. How sickening it is to see people so absorbed in themselves. That 800 dollars could have gone towards cancer research, diabetes funds, the Anti-AIDS movement in Africa, Humane Society, church funds, school donations. But no, the parents indulged into their daughters wants.
Afterwards, I thought of all the struggling people in the world. Even though they can barely support themselves, they always give when opportunities present themselves.
If I forge a good life for myself, I hope I don't turn into someone like that. If one does not help the world, one has no purpose. Living without a purpose is the same as being dead.
I only mention this because last night while relaxing I stumbled across this show called "Daddy's Spoiled Little Girl." When I saw the title, I rolled my eyes. It was so painful to watch I hardly saw five minutes worth. What I saw in those five minutes though was disgracefully decadent, self-centered and wasteful.
A 15 year old Cali-Girl is throwing a birthday party. With her dad being a surgeon, cash was not a problem. Upon party supplies only, she spent over 800 dollars. 800 dollars? I couldn't believe it. Party supplies that will just be thrown away once they are used. 800 dollars. Wasted, gone, and for what? For a brats 15th birthday?
I turned the T.V. off. How sickening it is to see people so absorbed in themselves. That 800 dollars could have gone towards cancer research, diabetes funds, the Anti-AIDS movement in Africa, Humane Society, church funds, school donations. But no, the parents indulged into their daughters wants.
Afterwards, I thought of all the struggling people in the world. Even though they can barely support themselves, they always give when opportunities present themselves.
If I forge a good life for myself, I hope I don't turn into someone like that. If one does not help the world, one has no purpose. Living without a purpose is the same as being dead.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
***Insight*** Secrets and Lies
One of the things that makes this would so dark and dangerous are secrets and lies. Lies, I think, are what gave the birth to the old saying "Silence is Golden."
With secrets and lies I don't think one can live without the other. That is why I think I shall talk about birth.
Lies. They distort not only the truth but can truly set of a volatile chain of events that we are both ignorant of and indifferent to. One should never have to lie. I have discovered absolutely no good can come of it. It may not always hurt other people, but it will always hurt the wielder. Lies come about, methinks, for two reasons: revenge/cruelty, and to cover up the trails of a mistake.
Assessing the first reason, I see that lies are tools to be used to hurt other people. Causing pain to others, even just a little, in both a social and spiritual sense, is a serious offense. One of the Truths I have uncovered as I have gotten older is that there is balance in the universe; you reap what you sow. Plant seeds of unrest and you shall reap a hurricane. Lies will come back to haunt you, guaranteed. And on top of that, the person you wronged will probably succumb to human nature and pay you back just as hard. So, in effect, you will be struck back twice as hard.
Concerning the second, if you tell lies to cover your tracks and keep hidden your secrets, you will simply end up digging yourself farther in your hole. Eventually, while weaving your trail of lies, you will slip up. All the bricks of your fortress of lies will be shaken to the ground by an earthquake of truth, you will be buried amongst the ruins.
If you strive to be the best you can be and not do stupid things that you need to keep secret, you won't be "crushed" by the lies you weave to keep you from getting caught.
When you do something stupid, and you are asked to explain yourself, just be truthful. The consequences will be far less severe and the world will respect you more for walking the path of Truth.
One of the things that makes this would so dark and dangerous are secrets and lies. Lies, I think, are what gave the birth to the old saying "Silence is Golden."
With secrets and lies I don't think one can live without the other. That is why I think I shall talk about birth.
Lies. They distort not only the truth but can truly set of a volatile chain of events that we are both ignorant of and indifferent to. One should never have to lie. I have discovered absolutely no good can come of it. It may not always hurt other people, but it will always hurt the wielder. Lies come about, methinks, for two reasons: revenge/cruelty, and to cover up the trails of a mistake.
Assessing the first reason, I see that lies are tools to be used to hurt other people. Causing pain to others, even just a little, in both a social and spiritual sense, is a serious offense. One of the Truths I have uncovered as I have gotten older is that there is balance in the universe; you reap what you sow. Plant seeds of unrest and you shall reap a hurricane. Lies will come back to haunt you, guaranteed. And on top of that, the person you wronged will probably succumb to human nature and pay you back just as hard. So, in effect, you will be struck back twice as hard.
Concerning the second, if you tell lies to cover your tracks and keep hidden your secrets, you will simply end up digging yourself farther in your hole. Eventually, while weaving your trail of lies, you will slip up. All the bricks of your fortress of lies will be shaken to the ground by an earthquake of truth, you will be buried amongst the ruins.
If you strive to be the best you can be and not do stupid things that you need to keep secret, you won't be "crushed" by the lies you weave to keep you from getting caught.
When you do something stupid, and you are asked to explain yourself, just be truthful. The consequences will be far less severe and the world will respect you more for walking the path of Truth.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
***Insight*** Getting Up
My life is going by pretty fast. I think I fully realized this when I started to read my license manual. I realized that my childhood had been pretty "quite", on the whole and that recently I have been pretty lazy. My priorities had shifted since the last time I decided to look at them. Homework, family time, recreation, exercise,video-games, art... all of these have been rearranged themselves and the new order that they're in, isn't helping me grow or making me happy.
Recently, I saw a visual lesson in one of my classes that just stuck with me. Up on a table there was a jar, a bowl of sugar, and a bowl of rocks; each rock had something written upon it such as "Family", "Friends," "Homework," "Videogames" ect. and their size was dependant upon what was written on them.
The object of the excersise was too put all of the sugar and all of the rocks in the jar. One volunteer stepped up and put his favorite things in there ("Friends," "Vidoegames," "Movies,") and then he started to put in the important ones ("Family," "Homework," "Reading"), but he couldn't fit those in because they were too big and there was not enough room; he tried to stack them. And when he tried to put the sugar in, it spilled everywhere and overflowed.
Then the teacher took everything out and showed us the right way to do it. She put the big rocks in first, then the smaller ones, which fit snuggly into place, and then poured in the sugar which went completely to the rim and filled all the empty spaces.
Afterwards the teacher said that the jar represented our lives, the rocks our priorites, and the sugar "the Sweet Stuff" like t.v. or going to Lagoon, taking naps, stuff like that.
That gave me a nice slap in the face. I need to wake up! I'm wasting time!
As of late, I have been going home and taking a nap, then playing videogames ("only and hour" I tell myselft but it is usually a lot more) then I eat dinner. After that its homework (that I know I can't put off until tommorrow morning like I usually do) and then once it's nice and late I read my scriptures. In one evening I have unknowingly, and yet purposely, elimanted family-time, excersise (which just KILLS me to know I haven't done), and some of my homework which I choose to do at the eleventh hour. Why do I take the naps? Because I'm tired because I put my homework off! Why do I play my videogames for so long? Because if offers me an escape because I feel miserable because I put my homework off!
It's a vicous cycle and there is ONE person to blame...me. This isn't healthy! This isn't fun; and as of now I choose to stop this once and for all.
I wasn't stacking my jar right but I fully intend to now! And I might as well admit it, I was one of those people who has been putting off their Honors English reading.
It's time for a change, I'm ready to go back to the person I used to be. That me was happy, and a full 4.0 student. This one is lazy, ill, and puts a half-hearted effort into things. 1st term I got a 3.95 and the one after that I got a 4.0. That is still WAY short of what I want, but it is fully what I deserve for what I put out.
**In closing I say this: You can't gain ANYTHING without giving up something else in return, including time and effort. Take care of your priorites first. All the "sweet stuff" will fall into place. You just have to trust yourself and learn to seize the day.**
My life is going by pretty fast. I think I fully realized this when I started to read my license manual. I realized that my childhood had been pretty "quite", on the whole and that recently I have been pretty lazy. My priorities had shifted since the last time I decided to look at them. Homework, family time, recreation, exercise,video-games, art... all of these have been rearranged themselves and the new order that they're in, isn't helping me grow or making me happy.
Recently, I saw a visual lesson in one of my classes that just stuck with me. Up on a table there was a jar, a bowl of sugar, and a bowl of rocks; each rock had something written upon it such as "Family", "Friends," "Homework," "Videogames" ect. and their size was dependant upon what was written on them.
The object of the excersise was too put all of the sugar and all of the rocks in the jar. One volunteer stepped up and put his favorite things in there ("Friends," "Vidoegames," "Movies,") and then he started to put in the important ones ("Family," "Homework," "Reading"), but he couldn't fit those in because they were too big and there was not enough room; he tried to stack them. And when he tried to put the sugar in, it spilled everywhere and overflowed.
Then the teacher took everything out and showed us the right way to do it. She put the big rocks in first, then the smaller ones, which fit snuggly into place, and then poured in the sugar which went completely to the rim and filled all the empty spaces.
Afterwards the teacher said that the jar represented our lives, the rocks our priorites, and the sugar "the Sweet Stuff" like t.v. or going to Lagoon, taking naps, stuff like that.
That gave me a nice slap in the face. I need to wake up! I'm wasting time!
As of late, I have been going home and taking a nap, then playing videogames ("only and hour" I tell myselft but it is usually a lot more) then I eat dinner. After that its homework (that I know I can't put off until tommorrow morning like I usually do) and then once it's nice and late I read my scriptures. In one evening I have unknowingly, and yet purposely, elimanted family-time, excersise (which just KILLS me to know I haven't done), and some of my homework which I choose to do at the eleventh hour. Why do I take the naps? Because I'm tired because I put my homework off! Why do I play my videogames for so long? Because if offers me an escape because I feel miserable because I put my homework off!
It's a vicous cycle and there is ONE person to blame...me. This isn't healthy! This isn't fun; and as of now I choose to stop this once and for all.
I wasn't stacking my jar right but I fully intend to now! And I might as well admit it, I was one of those people who has been putting off their Honors English reading.
It's time for a change, I'm ready to go back to the person I used to be. That me was happy, and a full 4.0 student. This one is lazy, ill, and puts a half-hearted effort into things. 1st term I got a 3.95 and the one after that I got a 4.0. That is still WAY short of what I want, but it is fully what I deserve for what I put out.
**In closing I say this: You can't gain ANYTHING without giving up something else in return, including time and effort. Take care of your priorites first. All the "sweet stuff" will fall into place. You just have to trust yourself and learn to seize the day.**
Sunday, February 18, 2007
This is a continuation of my story piece. Please give me feed back on my sentence structure, descriptors, and overall flow.
Chapter One
Xeran always felt alone. Many times had he climbed to the top of this particular peak and gaze off at the golden sunset. Often would he stay there until the very last rays of sunlight had disappeared and he was forced to go back home. He didn't quite understand why the villagers all treated him the way they did. His skin was the same dark hue as theirs; and his hair dark and long with a wavy curl, just like they all had.
But, then again, there was something very...unique about him. There was some power that dwelled within him, constantly he could feel it moving through him. Ever since he could remember he was able to do extraordinary things, things that both his foster-parents and the other villagers regarded with a mix of awe and fear. He was able levitate, and move objects through the air such as spoons and plates simply out of concentration. He could spark a fire with force of will by holding the kindling in his hands or even wrap his body in roaring flames. The heat of the desert's noonday sun could not stop him from going out to play or make him thirsty like it did the others. And even to this day he has never been burned before.
It's like the heat just seems to melt into him which he stores like a battery.
His foster-father, Antel, a local medicine man, guide and tribal leader, is the only one who does not completely shun Xeran. Though Antel does not fully return Xeran's love, Xeran regards him has his only friend and lavishes him with affection. The rest of the village however, including Xeran's foster-mother Serena, avert their eyes when they see him walking their way. He pretends not to notice; he pretends that they are not even their, but they always watch him as much as he watches them. They only talk to him when it is absolutely necessary, or when the other children feel it is their duty to remind him that he is a "Demon-boy," or a "Redmoon reject."
He remembers clearly, as the rest of the villagers a certain occasion when things got a little out of control. It was during the Celtamere Rite of Passage Festival. All of the village boys, from 13-14 seasons old who wanted to enter manhood were to undergo three perilous trials. The Trial of Bravery, The Trial of Concentration, and the Test of Pain. The trials change from season to season so there was no preparation possible.
The Village chief and master of ceremonies, Mebban was conducting the trials of his son Kalan. Kalan, who liked to lead his friends in Xeran's relentless torment, was exceedingly prideful and arrogant and was stockier, bigger and tougher than all of the others his age, much like his father. Having completed his Trial of Bravery, and barely passing the Trial of Concentration, Kalan was ready for the third trial. Equally ready for the third trial was Xeran who thought it was time for a little revenge.
The Trial of Pain was almost always the same unlike the other trials. The participant stood in the Diam defarii, a sacred kiva-like fire pit which had a constantly maintained fire. Inside the pit, the boy was to be branded by his father with the Mark of the Village. The mark, which looks like two "V" shapes inside one another, is burned a place of the boys choosing and scabs off in a couple of days leaving a permanent white scar.
Kalan was braced against the walls of the Diam defarii. He had decided to receive the mark on his back and was completely focused for the first touch of the hot metal stylus. After his father recited the customary vows and ritualistic mantras, he lowered the stylus, ready to trace the mark. The instant before the tip touched Kalan's skin, Xeran transferred some of his power, which made the air shimmer with heat, into the stylus. Though his timing was perfect, Xeran let out to much energy and the stylus, now white hot, horribly seared Kalan's back and made the glove worn by his father burst into flames. There was steam, a violent hissing sound mingled with frightened shouts from the village folk, and above it all was a great howl of agony from Kalan who was distorted by pain. The sudden commotion, made everyone draw back in shock, including Xeran who fell back, unable to move due to the guilt that surged through his body.
Mebban lay over the body of his unconscious son. He turned Kalan over and everyone gasped at the grisly, bubbling wound. For a moment he wept, then he rose and hurled himself at Xeran in a bestial rage. The blows all hit Xeran with as much force he could muster. A punch to the ribs, and a viscous uppercut took Xeran off his feet and flattened him onto his back only to be greeted on the ground by the full weight of Mebban's body crushing down on his chest. Mebban sat there and repeatedly punched the stunned boy's face into the ground, as if he were trying to split his skull apart.
It took a group of five of the strongest warriors to pry Mebban off him. "Monster!! Demon-spawned wretch! I'll kill you with my bare hands!! You will NEVER have peace again, I'll pay you back a hundred fold! I swear it! I swear it..." His voice trailed off as the men hauled Mebban away. Two others later came back and took Kalans limp body over to Antel's home for treatment.
No one helped Xeran to his feet. He got up slowly, warily, half expecting someone else to come at him. He glanced around at the disgusted, shocked faces of those in the cirlce around him. Though no words were said, each of the faces said the same thing in a their own way "Monster..."
A wide path was made for him as he shuffled out of the group. He stumbled at first, then he walked, and then ran, and then sprinted with all his might with a desperate longing to escape the nightmare he had just made. With tears in his eyes, he made his way up to that same familiar mountain top and let out a sorrowful wail. An explosion of heat and flames leaped outward, blackening the earth around him while stone cracked and burst with telekinetic force. Charred rock and crackling embers were all about him as flames danced along his body and boiling tears ran down his cheeks.
No one came to look for him. At dawn, he found himself among the ashes, and slowly made his way back down to the village. The sun heralded his arrival illuminated his path. Out of the corner of his eye he could see faces secrectly glance at him from behind windows and open doors. They were surprised to see that Mebban had left no noticeable marks upon his face even after he had been brutally attacked. Neither did he seem like he was in any physical pain. Xeran made his way back to the Diam defarii, the scence of the crime, and buried his face in his hands.
Ever since then, Xeran had been treated with even more contempt than before. He hardly ever showed his face in public anymore. When he had to go out, it was at night and he always wore a tarnished blacked cloak with a hood. Though he is mocked and cursed more than ever now, no one dares to do it to his face. They need only look at Kalan to remind themselves.
Over time he has becomed hardened and stoic. He rarely speaks, even to Antel. In the day he stays in the shadows of the mountains. He openly practices using his powers shooting balls of fire at self made targets and bathing the cliffs in cones of fire. Eventually, he learned how to force the heat out of objects creating icy formations that looked very out of place in the Khulrabbian Desert. Disciplined, independent, and self-motivated, Xeran no longer seeks the approval of others. He has missed his Rite of Passage several times now but is a man in his own eyes, more so than any who dwell in his village. He stays in the outskirts of society watching everyone form the shadows. He is their guardian. A self appointed protector of the only place he has ever known as home.
Yet still the most valuable lesson he has learned is his most painful one; all the power in the world cannot replace the need for a friend.
Chapter One
Xeran always felt alone. Many times had he climbed to the top of this particular peak and gaze off at the golden sunset. Often would he stay there until the very last rays of sunlight had disappeared and he was forced to go back home. He didn't quite understand why the villagers all treated him the way they did. His skin was the same dark hue as theirs; and his hair dark and long with a wavy curl, just like they all had.
But, then again, there was something very...unique about him. There was some power that dwelled within him, constantly he could feel it moving through him. Ever since he could remember he was able to do extraordinary things, things that both his foster-parents and the other villagers regarded with a mix of awe and fear. He was able levitate, and move objects through the air such as spoons and plates simply out of concentration. He could spark a fire with force of will by holding the kindling in his hands or even wrap his body in roaring flames. The heat of the desert's noonday sun could not stop him from going out to play or make him thirsty like it did the others. And even to this day he has never been burned before.
It's like the heat just seems to melt into him which he stores like a battery.
His foster-father, Antel, a local medicine man, guide and tribal leader, is the only one who does not completely shun Xeran. Though Antel does not fully return Xeran's love, Xeran regards him has his only friend and lavishes him with affection. The rest of the village however, including Xeran's foster-mother Serena, avert their eyes when they see him walking their way. He pretends not to notice; he pretends that they are not even their, but they always watch him as much as he watches them. They only talk to him when it is absolutely necessary, or when the other children feel it is their duty to remind him that he is a "Demon-boy," or a "Redmoon reject."
He remembers clearly, as the rest of the villagers a certain occasion when things got a little out of control. It was during the Celtamere Rite of Passage Festival. All of the village boys, from 13-14 seasons old who wanted to enter manhood were to undergo three perilous trials. The Trial of Bravery, The Trial of Concentration, and the Test of Pain. The trials change from season to season so there was no preparation possible.
The Village chief and master of ceremonies, Mebban was conducting the trials of his son Kalan. Kalan, who liked to lead his friends in Xeran's relentless torment, was exceedingly prideful and arrogant and was stockier, bigger and tougher than all of the others his age, much like his father. Having completed his Trial of Bravery, and barely passing the Trial of Concentration, Kalan was ready for the third trial. Equally ready for the third trial was Xeran who thought it was time for a little revenge.
The Trial of Pain was almost always the same unlike the other trials. The participant stood in the Diam defarii, a sacred kiva-like fire pit which had a constantly maintained fire. Inside the pit, the boy was to be branded by his father with the Mark of the Village. The mark, which looks like two "V" shapes inside one another, is burned a place of the boys choosing and scabs off in a couple of days leaving a permanent white scar.
Kalan was braced against the walls of the Diam defarii. He had decided to receive the mark on his back and was completely focused for the first touch of the hot metal stylus. After his father recited the customary vows and ritualistic mantras, he lowered the stylus, ready to trace the mark. The instant before the tip touched Kalan's skin, Xeran transferred some of his power, which made the air shimmer with heat, into the stylus. Though his timing was perfect, Xeran let out to much energy and the stylus, now white hot, horribly seared Kalan's back and made the glove worn by his father burst into flames. There was steam, a violent hissing sound mingled with frightened shouts from the village folk, and above it all was a great howl of agony from Kalan who was distorted by pain. The sudden commotion, made everyone draw back in shock, including Xeran who fell back, unable to move due to the guilt that surged through his body.
Mebban lay over the body of his unconscious son. He turned Kalan over and everyone gasped at the grisly, bubbling wound. For a moment he wept, then he rose and hurled himself at Xeran in a bestial rage. The blows all hit Xeran with as much force he could muster. A punch to the ribs, and a viscous uppercut took Xeran off his feet and flattened him onto his back only to be greeted on the ground by the full weight of Mebban's body crushing down on his chest. Mebban sat there and repeatedly punched the stunned boy's face into the ground, as if he were trying to split his skull apart.
It took a group of five of the strongest warriors to pry Mebban off him. "Monster!! Demon-spawned wretch! I'll kill you with my bare hands!! You will NEVER have peace again, I'll pay you back a hundred fold! I swear it! I swear it..." His voice trailed off as the men hauled Mebban away. Two others later came back and took Kalans limp body over to Antel's home for treatment.
No one helped Xeran to his feet. He got up slowly, warily, half expecting someone else to come at him. He glanced around at the disgusted, shocked faces of those in the cirlce around him. Though no words were said, each of the faces said the same thing in a their own way "Monster..."
A wide path was made for him as he shuffled out of the group. He stumbled at first, then he walked, and then ran, and then sprinted with all his might with a desperate longing to escape the nightmare he had just made. With tears in his eyes, he made his way up to that same familiar mountain top and let out a sorrowful wail. An explosion of heat and flames leaped outward, blackening the earth around him while stone cracked and burst with telekinetic force. Charred rock and crackling embers were all about him as flames danced along his body and boiling tears ran down his cheeks.
No one came to look for him. At dawn, he found himself among the ashes, and slowly made his way back down to the village. The sun heralded his arrival illuminated his path. Out of the corner of his eye he could see faces secrectly glance at him from behind windows and open doors. They were surprised to see that Mebban had left no noticeable marks upon his face even after he had been brutally attacked. Neither did he seem like he was in any physical pain. Xeran made his way back to the Diam defarii, the scence of the crime, and buried his face in his hands.
Ever since then, Xeran had been treated with even more contempt than before. He hardly ever showed his face in public anymore. When he had to go out, it was at night and he always wore a tarnished blacked cloak with a hood. Though he is mocked and cursed more than ever now, no one dares to do it to his face. They need only look at Kalan to remind themselves.
Over time he has becomed hardened and stoic. He rarely speaks, even to Antel. In the day he stays in the shadows of the mountains. He openly practices using his powers shooting balls of fire at self made targets and bathing the cliffs in cones of fire. Eventually, he learned how to force the heat out of objects creating icy formations that looked very out of place in the Khulrabbian Desert. Disciplined, independent, and self-motivated, Xeran no longer seeks the approval of others. He has missed his Rite of Passage several times now but is a man in his own eyes, more so than any who dwell in his village. He stays in the outskirts of society watching everyone form the shadows. He is their guardian. A self appointed protector of the only place he has ever known as home.
Yet still the most valuable lesson he has learned is his most painful one; all the power in the world cannot replace the need for a friend.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Well, I'm pretty much done with Insights. That which I have said is all that I had to say and what I thought should have been said. I really want to right a book. It will be very difficult but I might as well get started. "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."
Preface
Night falls upon the land of Aion. A dense, inky blanket that reaches its tendrils across the sky to strangle out the last lights of twilight. Aion, the frontline in the Battle of Good and Evil. A land of beauty, desolation, hope, despair, war, serenity, perdition and paradise; all entertwined in a dance of power, pushing and pulling, light and darkness.
A full moon rises red, a rare night indeed; the An'nero Ka. A sign of both doom and of great salvation. It glares down upon the cities, forests, and villages, its presence undeniable.
Animals awaken and herald its arrival, wildly, in both reverence and fear. Water becomes blood. Rock turns to fire.
The mountains groan and prophecy the fates of mortals as an dreaful wind fleets across the war torn landscape, away from this grim new sun.
And among this, an orphan child is born. Abandoned to the sands of the Kulrabbian Desert within the shadow of Titan's Rest. All the villagers gather this round this new young child. All of them shifting their eyes back and forth from the moon to the boy. He seems...unnatural, and is very cold to the touch. They rush to get him medical attention.
The gale is heavy and malevolent as it smashes into the unsuspecting villagers. It makes them stumble and in the the noise of the gale they each hear its dreadful moan and haunting call which seems to becon to their very souls. In panic, they all rush back to their homes none emerging until noon day. The infant is left to the care of his new, reluctant foster parents, the village doctor and his wife, who watch the child as he crys. It is a mournful almost painful wail. All the while the villagers can only think of one thing. It is a word, they thought, that seemed to come from the voice of the wind itself. Later, it became the infant's name. A constant reminder to that accursed night when he was discovered; under the crimson rays of the An'nero Ka.
"Xeran..."
Preface
Night falls upon the land of Aion. A dense, inky blanket that reaches its tendrils across the sky to strangle out the last lights of twilight. Aion, the frontline in the Battle of Good and Evil. A land of beauty, desolation, hope, despair, war, serenity, perdition and paradise; all entertwined in a dance of power, pushing and pulling, light and darkness.
A full moon rises red, a rare night indeed; the An'nero Ka. A sign of both doom and of great salvation. It glares down upon the cities, forests, and villages, its presence undeniable.
Animals awaken and herald its arrival, wildly, in both reverence and fear. Water becomes blood. Rock turns to fire.
The mountains groan and prophecy the fates of mortals as an dreaful wind fleets across the war torn landscape, away from this grim new sun.
And among this, an orphan child is born. Abandoned to the sands of the Kulrabbian Desert within the shadow of Titan's Rest. All the villagers gather this round this new young child. All of them shifting their eyes back and forth from the moon to the boy. He seems...unnatural, and is very cold to the touch. They rush to get him medical attention.
The gale is heavy and malevolent as it smashes into the unsuspecting villagers. It makes them stumble and in the the noise of the gale they each hear its dreadful moan and haunting call which seems to becon to their very souls. In panic, they all rush back to their homes none emerging until noon day. The infant is left to the care of his new, reluctant foster parents, the village doctor and his wife, who watch the child as he crys. It is a mournful almost painful wail. All the while the villagers can only think of one thing. It is a word, they thought, that seemed to come from the voice of the wind itself. Later, it became the infant's name. A constant reminder to that accursed night when he was discovered; under the crimson rays of the An'nero Ka.
"Xeran..."
Thursday, February 01, 2007
***Insight*** Words of Wisdom
Through life there are many wise words and phrases left behind by those righteous men and women who came before us. Some of these are as good as gold and we should search diligently for those that build us up and make us strive to better ourselves and the world around us. Below are some that I have stumbled upon and also ones that I have created myself. I find that they guide my actions and keep my from making foolish mistakes as well give some sense to this crazy world I live in.
*Note: The phrases below that were said by others are put in quotes. If I know the author I will be sure to include their name. Chances are I will add to this list as I see fit. *
Be passion in that which you do and only ever do it for yourself. Never let anyone stop you always pursue your dreams if they are righteous.
"Great minds think about ideas, average minds think about things and weak minds think about people."
"He who is not adding to his knowledge, is diminishing it."
-The Talmud
"Live well. It is the best revenge."
-The Talmud
"The fool believes himself to be wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool."
-Socrates
"Only the educated are free."
-Socrates
One key to happiness to to always look through our Spiritual "eyes," glance through our Mental eyes, and look through our physical eyes only to see what we are doing.
Epect no praise, give only praise, and throw away both insults and compliments. Watch your pride melt away as the light of your humility shines forth to inspire.
The shadows have no power over even the flame of a candle, but shrink in fear. Only ever do they gain strength when the light flickers and wanes.
The only difference between your dreams and reality, is action.
"What goes around, comes around"
A misdeed is like a pebble. Even a grain of sand can send ripples through a calm lake.
If it feels good, you know its good, you believe it to be righteous and have weighed the consequences, THINK about doing it.
"Believe nothing just because a so-called wise person said it. Believe nothing just because a belief is generally held. Believe nothing just because it is said in ancient books. Believe nothing just because it is said to be of divine origin. Believe nothing just because someone else believes it. Believe only what you yourself test and judge to be true."
–Buddha
Humans...
They hear without listening, see without watching and can only know by doing-and even then, they forget.
Never Regret Anything. At one point, it's exactly what you wanted.
Through life there are many wise words and phrases left behind by those righteous men and women who came before us. Some of these are as good as gold and we should search diligently for those that build us up and make us strive to better ourselves and the world around us. Below are some that I have stumbled upon and also ones that I have created myself. I find that they guide my actions and keep my from making foolish mistakes as well give some sense to this crazy world I live in.
*Note: The phrases below that were said by others are put in quotes. If I know the author I will be sure to include their name. Chances are I will add to this list as I see fit. *
Be passion in that which you do and only ever do it for yourself. Never let anyone stop you always pursue your dreams if they are righteous.
"Great minds think about ideas, average minds think about things and weak minds think about people."
"He who is not adding to his knowledge, is diminishing it."
-The Talmud
"Live well. It is the best revenge."
-The Talmud
"The fool believes himself to be wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool."
-Socrates
"Only the educated are free."
-Socrates
One key to happiness to to always look through our Spiritual "eyes," glance through our Mental eyes, and look through our physical eyes only to see what we are doing.
Epect no praise, give only praise, and throw away both insults and compliments. Watch your pride melt away as the light of your humility shines forth to inspire.
The shadows have no power over even the flame of a candle, but shrink in fear. Only ever do they gain strength when the light flickers and wanes.
The only difference between your dreams and reality, is action.
"What goes around, comes around"
A misdeed is like a pebble. Even a grain of sand can send ripples through a calm lake.
If it feels good, you know its good, you believe it to be righteous and have weighed the consequences, THINK about doing it.
"Believe nothing just because a so-called wise person said it. Believe nothing just because a belief is generally held. Believe nothing just because it is said in ancient books. Believe nothing just because it is said to be of divine origin. Believe nothing just because someone else believes it. Believe only what you yourself test and judge to be true."
–Buddha
Humans...
They hear without listening, see without watching and can only know by doing-and even then, they forget.
Never Regret Anything. At one point, it's exactly what you wanted.
Monday, January 15, 2007
***Insight*** Undesirables
Lately I have been thinking. I have noticed the little things that make me angry, make me sad or just distress me. I think about the situation and analyse it breaking it down farther and farther until I find the source of my insecurity. Well, I believe I have found all of them. I think I can live a happier more productive life if I try and remove these factors from my personality. They are as follows:
Hatred: Not to be confused with anger. It is healthy to become angry everyonce in a while and I do, but I can almost never completely let my anger go. It looms over me, constanly, never letting me live down the past and, makes me think of savage ideas and gruesome thoughts. But, in reality I must remember, violence can never solve a problem and there is no reason to hold grudges. The only person I can hurt by holding a grudge is myself. I must remeber to be calm and treat everyone like a brother or sister.
Jealousy: I kind of broached this subject in an earlier ***Insight***. No one should ever be jealous of anyone. I must remember only to live to impress myself, not others. I must realize that everyone has their strengths and weaknesses and that nothing can be gained without first giving up something of equal value. For example The "A+" students in school were not born brilliant. They had to give up time in studying in order to gain their knowledge. The same thing goes for athletes. And for those rare people who seem to be the best at anything they do, I know that they had to pay dearly to become how they are. It may be that they don't see their family hardly at all, maybe they don't have many friends because they are constantly pushing themselves, or maybe they are damaging themselves with their successes, they become conceited and believe themselves to be invincible. That could lead to a terrible path indeed. A terrible miserable path.
Pride: Leading off where my last paragrapgh ended I come to my issue of pride. What a hard thing to deal with! Not to boast, but I have been pretty talented at everything I try whether it be academic or athletic. My fate was that I started down the path of pride, blinded by my successes thinking I was the best. This only lead to a "rude awakening" on several occasions that caused some immense feelings of Hatred and Jealousy. I must remember that nothing good can come from Pride, it can lead to so many serious consequences. I should always be content on those things that I do, and disregard both compliments and insults. In the big picture, we are all pretty much the same. Noone is better than another, our strengths and weaknesses balance us all out and put us all on an equal tier. The only ways I can think of to battle my pride is to pay more compliments, expect none, and give service to others.
Shame: What am I ashamed of... these would be things that did not harm other people but have haunted me with mistakes I have done in the past to myselt. No one is perfect. Period. I know this, and I cannot let my shame hold me back from grabbing an opportunity or letting me hone my skills. How will I battle my shame? I guess...form positive habits. Practice, realize what the error was and strive not to do it again. I will not mope in failure, there is now only room for improvement. I will strive to a better me.
Guilt: Sort of Like shame by my definition but the opposite. Things I do that directly hurt those around me and plague me, never letting me live down my actions. A snide comment, gossip ( that's the only word I can think of to call it by), purposefully not helping someone in need and the other small things I do, and the feelings afterward that I get, all fall in to this catagory. I guess in otherwards, this is sort of my conscience only that I get overly distressed after I realized I was rude to someone else. The feeling hangs with me for a long time. My feelings of Guilt and Hatred often accompany each other. I must remember that what's done cannot be undone. The things I have done have happened, that is all that can be said. The only way I can relieve the feelings of guilt and to stop them from comming at all is to always think before I act. It'll both help the people around me aswell as myself.
Lately I have been thinking. I have noticed the little things that make me angry, make me sad or just distress me. I think about the situation and analyse it breaking it down farther and farther until I find the source of my insecurity. Well, I believe I have found all of them. I think I can live a happier more productive life if I try and remove these factors from my personality. They are as follows:
Hatred: Not to be confused with anger. It is healthy to become angry everyonce in a while and I do, but I can almost never completely let my anger go. It looms over me, constanly, never letting me live down the past and, makes me think of savage ideas and gruesome thoughts. But, in reality I must remember, violence can never solve a problem and there is no reason to hold grudges. The only person I can hurt by holding a grudge is myself. I must remeber to be calm and treat everyone like a brother or sister.
Jealousy: I kind of broached this subject in an earlier ***Insight***. No one should ever be jealous of anyone. I must remember only to live to impress myself, not others. I must realize that everyone has their strengths and weaknesses and that nothing can be gained without first giving up something of equal value. For example The "A+" students in school were not born brilliant. They had to give up time in studying in order to gain their knowledge. The same thing goes for athletes. And for those rare people who seem to be the best at anything they do, I know that they had to pay dearly to become how they are. It may be that they don't see their family hardly at all, maybe they don't have many friends because they are constantly pushing themselves, or maybe they are damaging themselves with their successes, they become conceited and believe themselves to be invincible. That could lead to a terrible path indeed. A terrible miserable path.
Pride: Leading off where my last paragrapgh ended I come to my issue of pride. What a hard thing to deal with! Not to boast, but I have been pretty talented at everything I try whether it be academic or athletic. My fate was that I started down the path of pride, blinded by my successes thinking I was the best. This only lead to a "rude awakening" on several occasions that caused some immense feelings of Hatred and Jealousy. I must remember that nothing good can come from Pride, it can lead to so many serious consequences. I should always be content on those things that I do, and disregard both compliments and insults. In the big picture, we are all pretty much the same. Noone is better than another, our strengths and weaknesses balance us all out and put us all on an equal tier. The only ways I can think of to battle my pride is to pay more compliments, expect none, and give service to others.
Shame: What am I ashamed of... these would be things that did not harm other people but have haunted me with mistakes I have done in the past to myselt. No one is perfect. Period. I know this, and I cannot let my shame hold me back from grabbing an opportunity or letting me hone my skills. How will I battle my shame? I guess...form positive habits. Practice, realize what the error was and strive not to do it again. I will not mope in failure, there is now only room for improvement. I will strive to a better me.
Guilt: Sort of Like shame by my definition but the opposite. Things I do that directly hurt those around me and plague me, never letting me live down my actions. A snide comment, gossip ( that's the only word I can think of to call it by), purposefully not helping someone in need and the other small things I do, and the feelings afterward that I get, all fall in to this catagory. I guess in otherwards, this is sort of my conscience only that I get overly distressed after I realized I was rude to someone else. The feeling hangs with me for a long time. My feelings of Guilt and Hatred often accompany each other. I must remember that what's done cannot be undone. The things I have done have happened, that is all that can be said. The only way I can relieve the feelings of guilt and to stop them from comming at all is to always think before I act. It'll both help the people around me aswell as myself.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
This is a nice little story, I find it makes a lot of sense:
A Chinese man is walking down a round. On his journey he sees a man in terribly miserable tormented by many demons, all of them swarming around him and screaming at him loudly ordering him to commit evil acts.
"Oh," the now upset traveler tells himself, "that man must be truly wicked then to be in the presence of so many demons."
Ignoring the agonizing man, he continues on when a man sweeping the dust from his shop stops him to ask what is bothering him.
"Ah, well you see," said the traveler, "I have just seen a wicked man sitting among the presence of a horde of demons, he must be truly evil to have such company."
The shop keeper sighed. "No my friend, that is the only evil person around here." He stopped his sweeping and pointed over at a young man slyly picking the pocket of a wealthy land owner. On the thief's shoulder, a small little imp, barely and inch tall, sat on the man's shoulder and whispered evil thoughts into the his ear.
"You see my good sir," said the shopkeeper to the traveler, "You had it backwards, that man you saw earlier is one of the most righteous men I know, it takes dozens of large intimidating demons, using all their might, to try and make him commit evil acts. However, it takes but a whisper from one minor demon to make that theif over there to stray from his righteous path."
Pretty good moral, huh? I think we can all learn a lesson from it. How many demons does it take to make you do something evil? One or Hundreds? Or maybe, you don't heed their voices at all...or at least you don't think you do.
A Chinese man is walking down a round. On his journey he sees a man in terribly miserable tormented by many demons, all of them swarming around him and screaming at him loudly ordering him to commit evil acts.
"Oh," the now upset traveler tells himself, "that man must be truly wicked then to be in the presence of so many demons."
Ignoring the agonizing man, he continues on when a man sweeping the dust from his shop stops him to ask what is bothering him.
"Ah, well you see," said the traveler, "I have just seen a wicked man sitting among the presence of a horde of demons, he must be truly evil to have such company."
The shop keeper sighed. "No my friend, that is the only evil person around here." He stopped his sweeping and pointed over at a young man slyly picking the pocket of a wealthy land owner. On the thief's shoulder, a small little imp, barely and inch tall, sat on the man's shoulder and whispered evil thoughts into the his ear.
"You see my good sir," said the shopkeeper to the traveler, "You had it backwards, that man you saw earlier is one of the most righteous men I know, it takes dozens of large intimidating demons, using all their might, to try and make him commit evil acts. However, it takes but a whisper from one minor demon to make that theif over there to stray from his righteous path."
Pretty good moral, huh? I think we can all learn a lesson from it. How many demons does it take to make you do something evil? One or Hundreds? Or maybe, you don't heed their voices at all...or at least you don't think you do.
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