Something funny about getting older is you notice stupid things people do, even those just a few years younger than you. You like to assure yourself that you never did things like that! Even though there is always a little voice in the back of your head that asks, did I? I personally find myself annoyed by teenagers. I heard many conversations between teenage girls and guys when I worked in a popular department store. It always seemed interesting to hear how important these seemingly petty things are to these budding adults. It can be anything from clothes and hair to the big boyfriend/girlfriend issues.
I laugh to myself knowing that it’s fleeting; the problem will be gone before they know it. It is also kind of amusing how the younger you are, the more you seem to know. Then you get older and turn around and say, “I shouldn’t have done that.” Like, I moved out on my own and had a wake up call. I thought I was ready! I’m 19, I’m an adult! How wrong was I? It also prompted me to understand psychology more. I see there are really just so many personality types. In any setting there are always the freakish, the righteous, the curious, the quiet, the outspoken ‘know it all’, the popular/ditsy, the thuggish, and maybe even a county person. It seems to be a never failing system.
From where I sit in class even, I can look around and catch these types. Anywhere you go, you can get two people who’ve never met that can fall easily into the same type. It can almost seem uncanny how that would work, but it does. Everywhere I go I find this pattern. I shudder to think that even my own personality is looming out there somewhere in its own social circle. It kind of hurts the ego to come to the conclusion that you aren’t one of a kind and that there is someone else out there like you, maybe thousands of people. But it does seem that there is a personality formula for even the most different of people.
Almost like life, in itself is the ultimate game. If you’ve ever played games like; Sims, Age of Empires, or Civilization, you’re ultimately playing God. You tell the players what to do, even sometimes how to do it, in the order you want them to do it and so on. Then you sit there and watch them live their lives out in front of you. You even have to sit by and watch as other civilizations come in and try to do what you’re doing, almost as if each tribe has its own God. The same way ancient civilizations believed, that makes it easy to get a connection. In a sense, their life is a game, so what stops our lives from being one? God could be the ultimate player. Having preset people types and letting us go on and live our lives and make our stupid mistakes, to ultimately make it through and learn a lesson.
Is this why people kill? Or why people get great movie roles and some never can catch a break? Could our lives have a prearranged destined path and God is the player that watches us wiggle around until we get there? Then, one by one we lead ourselves to personal advancements. Each advancement is another notch in our soul for higher advancement later. In terms of reincarnation, each life we live is another lesson learned that goes toward an overall spiritual goal of soul enlightenment.
A good example is the game Final Fantasy X. There is this thing called a sphere grid with any ability your character would ever need to learn and once they learn it that spot fills in and they are able to perfect it. What if God was the player and each person had their own sphere grid. The grid transferred from lifetime to lifetime, meaning our body was just our transport to gain another level on our grid. Once the grid is complete, that is when you achieve a perfection and no longer have to come back. Maybe like a peace and harmony on the other side? No one can be too sure, but it is an interesting thought. Which could explain why some people are deemed evil or mean or troubled, maybe they are just learning a lesson. Since not all lessons are good ones, there has to be all kinds of people on earth, good and bad. At some point in time, it seems the older you get, the more you realize this evitable truth. Then you think back when you were younger and wish you had realized this all along. Maybe if you had always known you wouldn’t have tried to change people or ignore people, or be unreasonable yourself.
I think there are a lot of things that people don’t realize when they are young that would have helped them a lot. Who knows what someone’s life would have been like had they been able to understand certain things about it. I’m not sure what even the world would be like. Maybe different cultures could all come to a similar agreement and we could all live happily, if these simple things were taught at a young age. I guess that might be something that we’ll never know.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Inner Need & Irony
Everyone comes into this life differently. Some people come into this life, grow up, and live normal lives. They never do anything too special, just live through life and watch it as it passes by. Most importantly, that is okay with them. I have never been one of those people. I knew at a very young age my plans were very different from everyone else around me. I also learned early on that society doesn’t take well to people who think they are here for something greater than they are.
“You’ll never be able to do anything. You live in a fantasy world, none of that will ever happen.” These words still stir up emotions deep inside me that continuously rise to the surface. This was a common phrase I heard growing up from my mother. Psychology teaches us that the more negative phrases you hear, the more they become part of your psyche, law of attraction even. Such nonsense had quite the opposite effect on me. I just wanted to do great things even more so when I met with this kind of opposition.
It was March, 2005 when my boyfriend introduced me to the thought of publishing a novel. I hadn’t ever really been what you would call a writer. I could write, it just was not an activity I did for recreation. At the time, I had just come upon a wonderful story idea! It was one of the rare moments in my life I jotted down some sort of fiction storyline for something other than a paper in school. I had bought this birthday gift that had a fiery colored dragon encapsulated in a glass ball with a long, dark blue robed wizard standing next to it, looking in. The scene was so intriguing. It was as if the moment was frozen in time and was now on display. At that instant, I had a beginning and an ending to my story. What a wonderful thing it would be to have a publisher like my story, and accept it for publishing! Excited with possibilities, I decided to submit a query for my story. Outwardly, just for fun, to see what would happen. Inwardly, it was genuine curiosity.
Did I really have something good here? Would I really be able to do something that no one else I knew had done? After some back and forth emails, I was signing a contract. The date was fifth of July 2005, my twenty-first birthday. Out of pure excitement, and an inner need to prove myself, I was shouting out to the world of my grand accomplishment! Everyone I knew was on the receiving end of the glorious news! Yet still, in the wake of such a life changing event, there was a cloud of skepticism. My mother wrote it off as an everyday occurrence. Not as if it was actually something real, something tangible. Who cares that I signed a contract to publish a book at twenty one years old? No big deal, right? It was really beyond me why someone who was supposed to care so much about me, the one who birthed me, could be so blasé about something so important to me.
Someone wanted me in a published form! Why couldn’t she be proud of me?After the initial reaction, I decided to start keeping any developments of the process to myself. I didn’t need her to help me. I didn’t need her unfounded criticism misting over my train of thought. Finally, I had the chance to show her I was capable of more than she thought I was! I was going to show the world! Ten or twelve fourteen hour days in front of the ever long word screen on the computer, I sent in my complete manuscript! It was a special day as it was my boyfriend’s birthday! It was too much to keep to myself. I determined maybe I could allow my mother this one announcement. If anything would make her thrilled, this would be it! Knowing that my work would officially be in print would surely uplift the negativity. But, to my not so big surprise, it was just another passing moment that had no substance. A childish smile would appear on her face whenever she saw me, thinking how sad I must be to actually believe these things I keep telling myself. It made her laugh for her to hear my plans and how my life was going to unfold. What will it take for her to realize my potential?
After revisions and book cover acceptance, I was holding it! My novel, Iris: The Legend That Time Forgot, was in my hands! My book was ready to buy. The jumping and shouts of happiness seemed to last a lifetime! I was a published author! I could hold, touch and read my own words from my own book. It was a feeling I could never forget. How amazing was this? After a little showing off, a dark thought hit my brain. Would this mean anything? If I show it to my mother, what will she say? Wouldn’t she HAVE to acknowledge me now? Not necessarily, as I came to find out. Upon receiving her personally autographed copy, she threw it back in my face telling me she didn’t want it. It was a mixture of confusion and hurt that came flooding in. At that moment, I realized something. It wasn’t me she was mad at, or looking down on. It was herself. She was eaten up in jealousy. She was forty-four years old and had never held down a job longer than a year. She was living with her mother and had no money to her name. She had let me grow up in an abusive household and allowed terrible things to happen to me my entire life until I left at nineteen.
What was I trying to impress her for? She had never tried to make me happy. I couldn’t let myself continue to be eaten alive by something that I just couldn’t have, and that was her acceptance. I didn’t need it, I already proved to myself I was better than that and that I could do the great things I always felt I could. It was best that I stayed my distance for a while. Everyone else I knew was boiling over in excitement for me! Everyone wanted to know what was going to happen next! This was a really good time in my life. I had even moved on from the sadness of my mother and was busy promoting my book, working, and going to school. Things were really moving along nicely with book signings and promotions.
As life would have it, it wouldn’t be this way long. My mother somehow weaseled her way back into my life. She couldn’t hide from it anymore, I was successful. My eighteen year old brother, always her favorite, was at home. He had quit school and wanted nothing more than to be on his computer or out with his friends all the time. And I was the one she was looking down on? I think it was a long, difficult struggle for her to see what she had done and see why she was wrong. She now seemed interested in what I was doing. She wanted to be apart of it, be in the action. I wanted to stay mad, I wanted to turn her away and tell her to never talk to me again. But the inner need for acceptance overcame me and I thought it was time for forgiveness. Being angry with someone is like throwing hot embers at them. While they are in your hands, you’re really just burning yourself. It really isn’t hurting anyone but you.
I had one last talk with her about how she threw the book in my face. “I didn’t appreciate it,” I let her know. “Not that it matters anyway, I guess. After all, I do live in a fantasy world.” I gave her a snide look. She usually hates comments like that. She hates to think she was the one with the problem. She knew she was wrong all those years, I could see it in her face as she looked at the floor. After a moment of thought, she looked up at me and her response just made me laugh out loud.“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you live in a fantasy world, huh? If you didn’t live there, how could you write such a good book about it?”
“You’ll never be able to do anything. You live in a fantasy world, none of that will ever happen.” These words still stir up emotions deep inside me that continuously rise to the surface. This was a common phrase I heard growing up from my mother. Psychology teaches us that the more negative phrases you hear, the more they become part of your psyche, law of attraction even. Such nonsense had quite the opposite effect on me. I just wanted to do great things even more so when I met with this kind of opposition.
It was March, 2005 when my boyfriend introduced me to the thought of publishing a novel. I hadn’t ever really been what you would call a writer. I could write, it just was not an activity I did for recreation. At the time, I had just come upon a wonderful story idea! It was one of the rare moments in my life I jotted down some sort of fiction storyline for something other than a paper in school. I had bought this birthday gift that had a fiery colored dragon encapsulated in a glass ball with a long, dark blue robed wizard standing next to it, looking in. The scene was so intriguing. It was as if the moment was frozen in time and was now on display. At that instant, I had a beginning and an ending to my story. What a wonderful thing it would be to have a publisher like my story, and accept it for publishing! Excited with possibilities, I decided to submit a query for my story. Outwardly, just for fun, to see what would happen. Inwardly, it was genuine curiosity.
Did I really have something good here? Would I really be able to do something that no one else I knew had done? After some back and forth emails, I was signing a contract. The date was fifth of July 2005, my twenty-first birthday. Out of pure excitement, and an inner need to prove myself, I was shouting out to the world of my grand accomplishment! Everyone I knew was on the receiving end of the glorious news! Yet still, in the wake of such a life changing event, there was a cloud of skepticism. My mother wrote it off as an everyday occurrence. Not as if it was actually something real, something tangible. Who cares that I signed a contract to publish a book at twenty one years old? No big deal, right? It was really beyond me why someone who was supposed to care so much about me, the one who birthed me, could be so blasé about something so important to me.
Someone wanted me in a published form! Why couldn’t she be proud of me?After the initial reaction, I decided to start keeping any developments of the process to myself. I didn’t need her to help me. I didn’t need her unfounded criticism misting over my train of thought. Finally, I had the chance to show her I was capable of more than she thought I was! I was going to show the world! Ten or twelve fourteen hour days in front of the ever long word screen on the computer, I sent in my complete manuscript! It was a special day as it was my boyfriend’s birthday! It was too much to keep to myself. I determined maybe I could allow my mother this one announcement. If anything would make her thrilled, this would be it! Knowing that my work would officially be in print would surely uplift the negativity. But, to my not so big surprise, it was just another passing moment that had no substance. A childish smile would appear on her face whenever she saw me, thinking how sad I must be to actually believe these things I keep telling myself. It made her laugh for her to hear my plans and how my life was going to unfold. What will it take for her to realize my potential?
After revisions and book cover acceptance, I was holding it! My novel, Iris: The Legend That Time Forgot, was in my hands! My book was ready to buy. The jumping and shouts of happiness seemed to last a lifetime! I was a published author! I could hold, touch and read my own words from my own book. It was a feeling I could never forget. How amazing was this? After a little showing off, a dark thought hit my brain. Would this mean anything? If I show it to my mother, what will she say? Wouldn’t she HAVE to acknowledge me now? Not necessarily, as I came to find out. Upon receiving her personally autographed copy, she threw it back in my face telling me she didn’t want it. It was a mixture of confusion and hurt that came flooding in. At that moment, I realized something. It wasn’t me she was mad at, or looking down on. It was herself. She was eaten up in jealousy. She was forty-four years old and had never held down a job longer than a year. She was living with her mother and had no money to her name. She had let me grow up in an abusive household and allowed terrible things to happen to me my entire life until I left at nineteen.
What was I trying to impress her for? She had never tried to make me happy. I couldn’t let myself continue to be eaten alive by something that I just couldn’t have, and that was her acceptance. I didn’t need it, I already proved to myself I was better than that and that I could do the great things I always felt I could. It was best that I stayed my distance for a while. Everyone else I knew was boiling over in excitement for me! Everyone wanted to know what was going to happen next! This was a really good time in my life. I had even moved on from the sadness of my mother and was busy promoting my book, working, and going to school. Things were really moving along nicely with book signings and promotions.
As life would have it, it wouldn’t be this way long. My mother somehow weaseled her way back into my life. She couldn’t hide from it anymore, I was successful. My eighteen year old brother, always her favorite, was at home. He had quit school and wanted nothing more than to be on his computer or out with his friends all the time. And I was the one she was looking down on? I think it was a long, difficult struggle for her to see what she had done and see why she was wrong. She now seemed interested in what I was doing. She wanted to be apart of it, be in the action. I wanted to stay mad, I wanted to turn her away and tell her to never talk to me again. But the inner need for acceptance overcame me and I thought it was time for forgiveness. Being angry with someone is like throwing hot embers at them. While they are in your hands, you’re really just burning yourself. It really isn’t hurting anyone but you.
I had one last talk with her about how she threw the book in my face. “I didn’t appreciate it,” I let her know. “Not that it matters anyway, I guess. After all, I do live in a fantasy world.” I gave her a snide look. She usually hates comments like that. She hates to think she was the one with the problem. She knew she was wrong all those years, I could see it in her face as she looked at the floor. After a moment of thought, she looked up at me and her response just made me laugh out loud.“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you live in a fantasy world, huh? If you didn’t live there, how could you write such a good book about it?”
The Religion Barrier
I smile upon reading a story called Salvation about a boy being pushed to claim having been saved in front of his church. It wasn’t too terribly long ago that I had a similar situation going on in my life. Since I was born I had heard about getting saved. I heard the many stories of how it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. It was the most perfect moment of existence and all the bad was gone. Now you can truly see the light.
I had gone to church for years all by myself. I walked alone, up a hill and a right at the stop sign. All the way down to the church I called home from the time I was five years old. I had several bibles that were given to me. I was alone in my religious teaching as my mother slept in the other room the whole time I was gone. When I was nine, my foster family brought me to another year as a vacation bible school student. This was nothing new to me but what I was going to experience was.
I was asked at this special time if I were saved. This was the moment I had been hearing about all my life. I answered truthfully with a simple ‘no’. That was the short of the process, the discussions, the readings, the decision. I was ready. I was told I was ready. It was definitely time. I wanted to be saved! Maybe if I were saved my life would change. This load of unhappiness, the troubled feelings and my situation would be lifted. I’d be a different person and my life would never be the same. I got to it. I said the required verse and put my heart and soul into it. I wanted it!
When it was over, I opened my eyes hoping for the same experience everyone else had felt. That special something was bound to come to me, I was sure. I would be SAVED! I waited. I smiled at the sweet, curly headed older lady holding my hand. I waited. I smiled over to the white haired preacher man holding my other hand. I waited. I felt uncomfortable, I must have done something wrong. I’ve always had a hard time admitting to such so, out of not wanting to disappoint these well intentioned people, I sounded genuine and said I felt the infamous ‘it’. Oh yeah, it happened and I felt it.
Who knows? Maybe I would feel it later and my excitement was the problem. My nerves were crowding my real feelings. I waited. As the day wore on to the next, I knew it wasn’t coming. It wasn’t coming that night and it wasn’t coming when I got my certificate of authenticity saying ‘it’ happened. Not even a year later did it happen when I got saved, again. I even went as far as to getting baptized to ‘seal the deal’. ‘It’ never came. I could never understand why nothing happened to me but it did to everyone else.
Why wasn’t I happy? Why didn’t I experience what everyone else had and my troubles been lifted? I look back and wonder were my troubles too much? Are the people who have this miraculous experience too simple minded and have nothing to bare as it is, making the transition a simple one? Did I expect too much? The power of words didn’t help me when saying that special verse. Is that all getting saved is? The power of words in action.
What if that is all it is and that’s why people feel something because the words worked and they weren’t reading into it the way I was. They just let it do what it does. If all it really was was the power of words, and there wasn’t really anything special, what would the Christian religion be like? What would people think if they thought that was what it was and it isn’t Jesus coming into you. But more, the perception of him coming into your heart. Thinking it and visualizing it was what made the feeling happen, not the actual action. That is a thought that more than likely wouldn’t get a second chance to most people, especially those in need of open minds.
I had gone to church for years all by myself. I walked alone, up a hill and a right at the stop sign. All the way down to the church I called home from the time I was five years old. I had several bibles that were given to me. I was alone in my religious teaching as my mother slept in the other room the whole time I was gone. When I was nine, my foster family brought me to another year as a vacation bible school student. This was nothing new to me but what I was going to experience was.
I was asked at this special time if I were saved. This was the moment I had been hearing about all my life. I answered truthfully with a simple ‘no’. That was the short of the process, the discussions, the readings, the decision. I was ready. I was told I was ready. It was definitely time. I wanted to be saved! Maybe if I were saved my life would change. This load of unhappiness, the troubled feelings and my situation would be lifted. I’d be a different person and my life would never be the same. I got to it. I said the required verse and put my heart and soul into it. I wanted it!
When it was over, I opened my eyes hoping for the same experience everyone else had felt. That special something was bound to come to me, I was sure. I would be SAVED! I waited. I smiled at the sweet, curly headed older lady holding my hand. I waited. I smiled over to the white haired preacher man holding my other hand. I waited. I felt uncomfortable, I must have done something wrong. I’ve always had a hard time admitting to such so, out of not wanting to disappoint these well intentioned people, I sounded genuine and said I felt the infamous ‘it’. Oh yeah, it happened and I felt it.
Who knows? Maybe I would feel it later and my excitement was the problem. My nerves were crowding my real feelings. I waited. As the day wore on to the next, I knew it wasn’t coming. It wasn’t coming that night and it wasn’t coming when I got my certificate of authenticity saying ‘it’ happened. Not even a year later did it happen when I got saved, again. I even went as far as to getting baptized to ‘seal the deal’. ‘It’ never came. I could never understand why nothing happened to me but it did to everyone else.
Why wasn’t I happy? Why didn’t I experience what everyone else had and my troubles been lifted? I look back and wonder were my troubles too much? Are the people who have this miraculous experience too simple minded and have nothing to bare as it is, making the transition a simple one? Did I expect too much? The power of words didn’t help me when saying that special verse. Is that all getting saved is? The power of words in action.
What if that is all it is and that’s why people feel something because the words worked and they weren’t reading into it the way I was. They just let it do what it does. If all it really was was the power of words, and there wasn’t really anything special, what would the Christian religion be like? What would people think if they thought that was what it was and it isn’t Jesus coming into you. But more, the perception of him coming into your heart. Thinking it and visualizing it was what made the feeling happen, not the actual action. That is a thought that more than likely wouldn’t get a second chance to most people, especially those in need of open minds.
Why We Love Horror
When you think about entertainment, everyone has a different version of what is entertaining. In Roman times, seeing people being torn alive by massive animals was a form of entertainment. These days, if that were to happen, someone would go to jail and probably be killed themselves. But on the contrary, if we drive past an automobile accident, the first question most people want answered is, "Is anyone dead?". It is like a morbid curiosity that doesn’t seem to matter about morals.
What is it people like about things that are so cheap and horrifying? You would think people would turn away from such things. Especially if they have been through a similar situation you think it would make a difference. It’s just like watching someone get insulted, then laugh. As long as it isn’t you, its funny. Why does it seem that humans get more pleasure from seeing others in pain than getting pleasure just themselves? Could it be an inner need for security and knowing it isn’t them that is having the hard time?
A good example is someone in financial difficulty. When they were doing well they shunned away people who were having problems. These people would turn away from homeless people and not give to charity feeling they are above that. Some people even go as far as to say that is their problem and that these people should get a job, absolutely no pitty. Am I saying that people deserve lots of handouts if they get in a situation? No, I just think everyone gets down and is in need of help at some point. Then when this person finds themselves in a jam, they expect people to help them. But will they get help? No, because their friends are just like them, now they are the ones being looked down upon.
Money is really the root of a lot of problems. When you have it its great and you do whatever u can usually to keep it for yourself. You dare anyone to try and take it from you. If you don’t have it, it’s all you strive for. It’s what you live for! I really don’t find many people who are just genuinely happy moneywise. People who love the cheap kind of entertainment with that morbid curiosity prove a theory that there is always a dark side to human nature. That dark side is also brought out by money. Money and horror seem to not be too distant of relatives when it comes to human nature. They can both bring out the worst in people and make you wish it would go away. They both seem to cause problems and can be scary. If you have too much money, you can’t trust anyone, if you are in a horror movie you can’t trust anyone either. The parallel’s to money and the scary unknown are astounding.
People’s behavior can totally change and they can become out of character under both circumstances. I think this is an important reason why communism doesn’t work. No matter what happens, you can’t control someone’s finances and people will never be equal. Trying to make that work is horrible, hence a horror situation arises when people try to beat the system. Is it possible to have a world like that? A world where everyone can be equal? It doesn’t seem so because no matter what, there will always be some kind of differences. If it isn’t money, it will be looks and so on. The old quote, “Why can’t we all just get along?” seems like the golden question.
Why can’t we? What is stopping us from being horrible and controlled by money and power that we can’t just see through to the real side of people. If there were no money, and we were all subsistence living, what would people be like? Would people be true to themselves and do what they were interested in, living happy lives without bounds? Or would the population find something else to hoard in abundance? What would the world be like if you could marry who you wanted, do what you wanted, live where you wanted and not be dictated by money and things that don’t really mean anything? Would there be another Roman Pox Romana and have us live in harmony? Or would it be like the real one and eventually end due to war.
Instead of having things that could cause pain, wouldn’t it be nice if we all just found a way to get along and still keep our own beliefs, just not let others interrupt our own. Really, if we are solid on our own beliefs, it should not bother us what other people are doing as long as they allow us to do what we want. Why is a world like that an oxymoron? It would be wonderful to see people get over their differences and move on with life living it the way they wanted to live it, not having to care about others.
Since it is mostly about power trades and ends usually anyway, why not get rid of formal marriage? With the divorce rate like it is, what is the point? Most couples live like married couples long before even the thought sometimes. If there were no divorces, then the world would be a lot more peaceful. It is a nice thought but I know people must have that piece of paper even if it runs out after a while and the feelings are long gone. People don’t have to pay for that kind of torture, they do it to themselves by staying in decrepit situations. It could be viewed as the emotional equivalent of cutting your wrists. You just let the life flow out until there is nothing left, and as it goes, your heart continues to beat. It knows time is coming to an end but refuses to do anything about it, just watches it fade away. Mainly, people will always have this dark side. If they aren’t watching it, they are probably living it in some way. Maybe it is in human nature to never be truly happy.
What is it people like about things that are so cheap and horrifying? You would think people would turn away from such things. Especially if they have been through a similar situation you think it would make a difference. It’s just like watching someone get insulted, then laugh. As long as it isn’t you, its funny. Why does it seem that humans get more pleasure from seeing others in pain than getting pleasure just themselves? Could it be an inner need for security and knowing it isn’t them that is having the hard time?
A good example is someone in financial difficulty. When they were doing well they shunned away people who were having problems. These people would turn away from homeless people and not give to charity feeling they are above that. Some people even go as far as to say that is their problem and that these people should get a job, absolutely no pitty. Am I saying that people deserve lots of handouts if they get in a situation? No, I just think everyone gets down and is in need of help at some point. Then when this person finds themselves in a jam, they expect people to help them. But will they get help? No, because their friends are just like them, now they are the ones being looked down upon.
Money is really the root of a lot of problems. When you have it its great and you do whatever u can usually to keep it for yourself. You dare anyone to try and take it from you. If you don’t have it, it’s all you strive for. It’s what you live for! I really don’t find many people who are just genuinely happy moneywise. People who love the cheap kind of entertainment with that morbid curiosity prove a theory that there is always a dark side to human nature. That dark side is also brought out by money. Money and horror seem to not be too distant of relatives when it comes to human nature. They can both bring out the worst in people and make you wish it would go away. They both seem to cause problems and can be scary. If you have too much money, you can’t trust anyone, if you are in a horror movie you can’t trust anyone either. The parallel’s to money and the scary unknown are astounding.
People’s behavior can totally change and they can become out of character under both circumstances. I think this is an important reason why communism doesn’t work. No matter what happens, you can’t control someone’s finances and people will never be equal. Trying to make that work is horrible, hence a horror situation arises when people try to beat the system. Is it possible to have a world like that? A world where everyone can be equal? It doesn’t seem so because no matter what, there will always be some kind of differences. If it isn’t money, it will be looks and so on. The old quote, “Why can’t we all just get along?” seems like the golden question.
Why can’t we? What is stopping us from being horrible and controlled by money and power that we can’t just see through to the real side of people. If there were no money, and we were all subsistence living, what would people be like? Would people be true to themselves and do what they were interested in, living happy lives without bounds? Or would the population find something else to hoard in abundance? What would the world be like if you could marry who you wanted, do what you wanted, live where you wanted and not be dictated by money and things that don’t really mean anything? Would there be another Roman Pox Romana and have us live in harmony? Or would it be like the real one and eventually end due to war.
Instead of having things that could cause pain, wouldn’t it be nice if we all just found a way to get along and still keep our own beliefs, just not let others interrupt our own. Really, if we are solid on our own beliefs, it should not bother us what other people are doing as long as they allow us to do what we want. Why is a world like that an oxymoron? It would be wonderful to see people get over their differences and move on with life living it the way they wanted to live it, not having to care about others.
Since it is mostly about power trades and ends usually anyway, why not get rid of formal marriage? With the divorce rate like it is, what is the point? Most couples live like married couples long before even the thought sometimes. If there were no divorces, then the world would be a lot more peaceful. It is a nice thought but I know people must have that piece of paper even if it runs out after a while and the feelings are long gone. People don’t have to pay for that kind of torture, they do it to themselves by staying in decrepit situations. It could be viewed as the emotional equivalent of cutting your wrists. You just let the life flow out until there is nothing left, and as it goes, your heart continues to beat. It knows time is coming to an end but refuses to do anything about it, just watches it fade away. Mainly, people will always have this dark side. If they aren’t watching it, they are probably living it in some way. Maybe it is in human nature to never be truly happy.
3rd World vs America
Seeing countries such as the poverty stricken ones in South America and Africa amazes me. To think a government can allow its people to slowly decline and get to such a low state of being is unbelievable. I can’t understand how people who can’t take care of themselves still continue to have children, knowing they won’t be able to take care of them either. It seems that there is no end to the women having so many babies. It is also a wonder that they can even carry through their terms. With malnourishment and food shortages, there really should be a bigger hand out of birth control.
As bad as it is, you really need not leave the US to find it. In any given city you find a mother on welfare with several children, continuously living off the government. It’s just our government appears to be in a better shape. We could easily be in that shape ourselves if we continue to support people who abuse, some purposefully, the system. Just like ancient Rome where 80% of the population lived on the ‘Bread & Circuses’ welfare system which eventually swallowed their economy.
In theory it was a nice thought. We can take care of our people so they won’t want to rebel. But when you have a safety net, most people will jump. Why should I work hard if there is someone or something that will take care of me? What will it take for the human race to learn and understand history? My aunt has lived off the system since before I was born. She married my mother’s brother, who was born with heart problems, because he was unable to work and was receiving a government check. My aunt is and was fully capable of working. She has not worked another day since.She used to sell her government food hand outs for drugs and alcohol. All three of my cousins by her were addicted to some drug when they were born. They all were in the hospital for extended amounts of time and to this day have learning disabilities. As time wore on, my uncle’s condition worsened with his substance abuse. His life ended at thirty seven in March 1998.
In many ways, the horrible home life of children who grow up in the underdeveloped malnourishment and exhaustive heat of the desert is comparable to many scenario’s right here in America, including that of my cousins. My aunt and uncle would beat each other and scream, fight at each other right in front of their kids. Some of those times even included the children. There were always drugs around and never enough to eat, a very unhealthy existence. Only one of my cousins finished high school, just to get in another abusive situation and have a baby at a young age. It seems no matter where you go in the world, there will always be this epidemic going on. Will there ever be anything that could possible be done to change people? Or, is this just a part of human nature that no one can control? That, in itself, is the saddest thought of all.
As bad as it is, you really need not leave the US to find it. In any given city you find a mother on welfare with several children, continuously living off the government. It’s just our government appears to be in a better shape. We could easily be in that shape ourselves if we continue to support people who abuse, some purposefully, the system. Just like ancient Rome where 80% of the population lived on the ‘Bread & Circuses’ welfare system which eventually swallowed their economy.
In theory it was a nice thought. We can take care of our people so they won’t want to rebel. But when you have a safety net, most people will jump. Why should I work hard if there is someone or something that will take care of me? What will it take for the human race to learn and understand history? My aunt has lived off the system since before I was born. She married my mother’s brother, who was born with heart problems, because he was unable to work and was receiving a government check. My aunt is and was fully capable of working. She has not worked another day since.She used to sell her government food hand outs for drugs and alcohol. All three of my cousins by her were addicted to some drug when they were born. They all were in the hospital for extended amounts of time and to this day have learning disabilities. As time wore on, my uncle’s condition worsened with his substance abuse. His life ended at thirty seven in March 1998.
In many ways, the horrible home life of children who grow up in the underdeveloped malnourishment and exhaustive heat of the desert is comparable to many scenario’s right here in America, including that of my cousins. My aunt and uncle would beat each other and scream, fight at each other right in front of their kids. Some of those times even included the children. There were always drugs around and never enough to eat, a very unhealthy existence. Only one of my cousins finished high school, just to get in another abusive situation and have a baby at a young age. It seems no matter where you go in the world, there will always be this epidemic going on. Will there ever be anything that could possible be done to change people? Or, is this just a part of human nature that no one can control? That, in itself, is the saddest thought of all.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Entropy & Life
It really is an interesting thing to think about. The thought, basically, that no matter what you do the time you waste getting things done is really just that… waste. You’re going to have to do it again. Like an endless, vicious cycle even. I noticed at old work place that there is one department that seemed victim to this, the misses department. It seems like no matter how it got clean, it somehow ended up exactly where it started as a huge disastrous mess! Really, all of the retail world is the same, no matter the department. It is a relentless cleaning up, putting back, and cleaning up the same thing you just put back.
Never clear, never completely put up or folded, always in some disarray. How does that happen? Why is it that there are some things in life that are an never ending battle? That there is nothing you can really do to stop it. Is irreversibility is the price for complexity? The more systems and details there are, the harder it is to keep up with it, enter entropy.
The creation of life seems an exception to entropy. But in reality, even life itself is eventual entropy. As soon as you’re born you start dying. Like a car wreck in slow motion, you see it coming. BOOM! It has happened, and here you are.
How can you stop it? Can you stop it? Maybe life is more of an ongoing entropy in which the chaos that it is eventually ended with death. An ongoing series of complexities, situations, and even greatness but it leads to the same end no matter what. So in that sense, it’s just something to get used to, a part of life.
Never clear, never completely put up or folded, always in some disarray. How does that happen? Why is it that there are some things in life that are an never ending battle? That there is nothing you can really do to stop it. Is irreversibility is the price for complexity? The more systems and details there are, the harder it is to keep up with it, enter entropy.
The creation of life seems an exception to entropy. But in reality, even life itself is eventual entropy. As soon as you’re born you start dying. Like a car wreck in slow motion, you see it coming. BOOM! It has happened, and here you are.
How can you stop it? Can you stop it? Maybe life is more of an ongoing entropy in which the chaos that it is eventually ended with death. An ongoing series of complexities, situations, and even greatness but it leads to the same end no matter what. So in that sense, it’s just something to get used to, a part of life.
Law of Attraction & Circles
Upon listening to the words from the great Native American, Black Elk, I felt a connection with him. Thinking about life in his terms really puts a whole new perspective on the world around you. It was really a whole different kind of thought process which he stated with... "Everything the Power of the World does is in a circle."
When you think about circles versus squares in depth it really makes a lot of sense. A square is more closed, more rigid in its stature than a never ending circle that just goes round. It would seem in a symbolist point of view that a circle appears more open with a round about way of thought than a solid hard edge square.
This reminds me of the Law of Attraction. As Black Elk gave examples of what the square has had an effect on, you can easily see the parallels between both kinds of thinking and how that can be used as symbolism. In the Law of Attraction, you get what you put out into the universe. If your life revolves around squares, and it has a certain way of thinking that goes with it, you in turn will eventually become a square and keep yourself closed to change.
More importantly, if you believe and say to yourself that things are the way they are, that is what they'll be. You create the world around you by your thoughts and actions, if those thoughts and actions are square, then so you will become. The same goes for the circle. If being in a circle makes you 'well rounded' then that is a real difference from revolving around squares. There is always something to be said for someone who is 'well rounded', maybe that is where the saying comes from? Someone who lives as an open circle is someone who is willing to try new and different things. If that is where it comes from, it is easy to draw the symbolism further with rigid square type of people.
You always attract your likeness, in terms of life you get what you put in. It has been proven that environment changes your way of life and the way you perceive things. There are circles everywhere and the man made square could, in fact, come with man made consequences. In the end, it really is all a game of perception and what you chose to see. This could make absolute sense, it could also seem like totally far fetched things. Whether you believe it or not, it is what it is.
When you think about circles versus squares in depth it really makes a lot of sense. A square is more closed, more rigid in its stature than a never ending circle that just goes round. It would seem in a symbolist point of view that a circle appears more open with a round about way of thought than a solid hard edge square.
This reminds me of the Law of Attraction. As Black Elk gave examples of what the square has had an effect on, you can easily see the parallels between both kinds of thinking and how that can be used as symbolism. In the Law of Attraction, you get what you put out into the universe. If your life revolves around squares, and it has a certain way of thinking that goes with it, you in turn will eventually become a square and keep yourself closed to change.
More importantly, if you believe and say to yourself that things are the way they are, that is what they'll be. You create the world around you by your thoughts and actions, if those thoughts and actions are square, then so you will become. The same goes for the circle. If being in a circle makes you 'well rounded' then that is a real difference from revolving around squares. There is always something to be said for someone who is 'well rounded', maybe that is where the saying comes from? Someone who lives as an open circle is someone who is willing to try new and different things. If that is where it comes from, it is easy to draw the symbolism further with rigid square type of people.
You always attract your likeness, in terms of life you get what you put in. It has been proven that environment changes your way of life and the way you perceive things. There are circles everywhere and the man made square could, in fact, come with man made consequences. In the end, it really is all a game of perception and what you chose to see. This could make absolute sense, it could also seem like totally far fetched things. Whether you believe it or not, it is what it is.
School & The Criminal Mind
I had a taste for skipping class in high school. As bad as I knew it was, it was still something I couldn’t seem to shake the thought of. It was an excitement, a chase even of my own, the run of me and my administrators. I was never actually caught in the act exactly and only got in trouble three times in the four years of high school. The last of these unfortunate times was the beginning of my senior year and it just so happened to be my nemesis, Mr. Bishop, that completed the write up.
Mr. Bishop was my tenth grade English teacher. I skipped his class more times than I care to remember. That was at the height of my, let’s say, ‘issue’. So from that time on, he always had an eye on me. The funny thing was, he transferred to my high school just to be an administrator. But after he got there, they told him he’d have to be a teacher for a year before he could move up. Therefore, he hated class and hardly taught. This prompted me to care less about his class and it didn’t really bother me to not go.
The next year he was promoted to senior administrator. During spirit week, someone in my class dressed as him to make fun. It was hilarious! He was a joke to the school of students, especially those who had not hit senior year. Unfortunately, once I hit it myself it was everyday he would talk to me. Every time I passed his office he called me in, even if I didn’t do anything! The one time he actually had something on me, he thought he was really getting me! One week in ISS. I loathed ISS. Last time I had it was in tenth grade, in the farthest room from anyone else on the other side of the school. It was dark and depressing. I was very unhappy with that thought.
But this was to be different. With as hard as senior year was becoming, even this early in October, ISS would serve to be a great respite from the regular class. This was the first year the ISS room was moved out to our ticket booth at our football field. There were windows all the way around and the leaves were changing colors on the trees. Instead of it being a place of horror and melancholy, it was like from the pages of a great poem. I was able to do my difficult work in personal solace at my own pace. It was bliss.
I felt happy knowing Mr. Bishop had sent me there to make me unhappy and it worked against him. Some people have such a warped sense of self. They would much rather torture someone than nurture. He was so into punishment that he never wondered why I did what I did. If he had of done a little research he would have realized that I never got in trouble for anything other than skipping class. I never talked out, didn’t curse, didn’t fight, I didn’t have ugly grades. He didn’t know that skipping class was kind of an escape for me. My home life was wretched. I was very unhappy. Once I was at school, I was in control.
People seemed to be obsessed with punishment. They like seeing people hurt and care not to find out what makes people tick. It’s only recently that psychologists are starting to study the criminal mind. What makes people do the things they do? Does that mean, say for instance, that if a murderer grew up being beaten everyday that he would be pardoned because of it? No, because as much as environment plays a part in development, a person has to take responsibilities for themselves.
But that brings up another point. What if someone like Mr. Bishop saw someone like that in school and just continued to bring them down by getting them in trouble. What if, instead of constant punishment, he sent them to a counselor and upon talking to them, it was uncovered that he was highly abused at home and this student was acting out at school as an unspoken way of being in control? What kind of difference could that have made to a possible criminal? Could that one act of kindness helped reverse the negative thinking that would eventually doom him?
I personally think that school doesn’t do enough for children, especially ones who could use some sort of help. Well, in my experience at least, I had more help as a young child than as a growing one. At the age of nine I was put into the foster care system for two years. When I came home, my life was 100x worse than it had been before I left. I was too afraid to say anything at school because I was scared of what could happen to me if I told and if a visitor came they were lied to and I was left there to continue to deal with the pain.
In school, I talked to no one. I sat alone at lunch and never put my hand up in class. Were the teachers really that blind? I had a couple teachers who worried about me in middle school. Counselors thought I had mental problems and put me through a battery of psychological tests that always turned up empty handed. They would talk to my mom and her ex, that still lived with us, about me and they would lie and say I was anorexic and a bad child.
If anyone took one look at me they would never be able to picture me yelling at anyone. I even once had a teacher who cried asking me why I turned away people who wanted to be my friend. But I couldn’t have friends, I couldn’t let anyone in and let them know what happened at home. I always stayed to myself. Most people older than I wrote me off as a problem child who purposely disregarded school. If any of these people had of actually done any real probing they would have found out I was in foster care and when I was away from home I was on the honor roll and even played an instrument. I had many friends and loved to talk. I was at my highest when I was away from home.
Why don’t more people do actual research? I bet so called ‘bad kids’ could be total opposite if given the opportunity to see what’s really going on. Does that mean that all trouble making students could be turned around by outsiders? No, of course not. But would it be possible to see a major difference in crime rate and prison populations? Certainly! Instead of the school system employing people because of credentials, maybe they should take a look deeper and find people who really CARE. Maybe if there were better people in schools, we’d figure out the problem.
Whether anyone wants to admit it or not, there still is and has always been a problem. It can be helped if there was someone there to do it. I was different. I turned out on the upside because I wanted more for myself, I expected better after I got out of my situation. But what about those who never get out of their situation? Is it ever possible for them to be different if they don’t have the chance to see outside of it? If more people could see this and act on it, I really do believe the world would be a different animal. One that is safer and more understanding, rather than a condemning one.
Mr. Bishop was my tenth grade English teacher. I skipped his class more times than I care to remember. That was at the height of my, let’s say, ‘issue’. So from that time on, he always had an eye on me. The funny thing was, he transferred to my high school just to be an administrator. But after he got there, they told him he’d have to be a teacher for a year before he could move up. Therefore, he hated class and hardly taught. This prompted me to care less about his class and it didn’t really bother me to not go.
The next year he was promoted to senior administrator. During spirit week, someone in my class dressed as him to make fun. It was hilarious! He was a joke to the school of students, especially those who had not hit senior year. Unfortunately, once I hit it myself it was everyday he would talk to me. Every time I passed his office he called me in, even if I didn’t do anything! The one time he actually had something on me, he thought he was really getting me! One week in ISS. I loathed ISS. Last time I had it was in tenth grade, in the farthest room from anyone else on the other side of the school. It was dark and depressing. I was very unhappy with that thought.
But this was to be different. With as hard as senior year was becoming, even this early in October, ISS would serve to be a great respite from the regular class. This was the first year the ISS room was moved out to our ticket booth at our football field. There were windows all the way around and the leaves were changing colors on the trees. Instead of it being a place of horror and melancholy, it was like from the pages of a great poem. I was able to do my difficult work in personal solace at my own pace. It was bliss.
I felt happy knowing Mr. Bishop had sent me there to make me unhappy and it worked against him. Some people have such a warped sense of self. They would much rather torture someone than nurture. He was so into punishment that he never wondered why I did what I did. If he had of done a little research he would have realized that I never got in trouble for anything other than skipping class. I never talked out, didn’t curse, didn’t fight, I didn’t have ugly grades. He didn’t know that skipping class was kind of an escape for me. My home life was wretched. I was very unhappy. Once I was at school, I was in control.
People seemed to be obsessed with punishment. They like seeing people hurt and care not to find out what makes people tick. It’s only recently that psychologists are starting to study the criminal mind. What makes people do the things they do? Does that mean, say for instance, that if a murderer grew up being beaten everyday that he would be pardoned because of it? No, because as much as environment plays a part in development, a person has to take responsibilities for themselves.
But that brings up another point. What if someone like Mr. Bishop saw someone like that in school and just continued to bring them down by getting them in trouble. What if, instead of constant punishment, he sent them to a counselor and upon talking to them, it was uncovered that he was highly abused at home and this student was acting out at school as an unspoken way of being in control? What kind of difference could that have made to a possible criminal? Could that one act of kindness helped reverse the negative thinking that would eventually doom him?
I personally think that school doesn’t do enough for children, especially ones who could use some sort of help. Well, in my experience at least, I had more help as a young child than as a growing one. At the age of nine I was put into the foster care system for two years. When I came home, my life was 100x worse than it had been before I left. I was too afraid to say anything at school because I was scared of what could happen to me if I told and if a visitor came they were lied to and I was left there to continue to deal with the pain.
In school, I talked to no one. I sat alone at lunch and never put my hand up in class. Were the teachers really that blind? I had a couple teachers who worried about me in middle school. Counselors thought I had mental problems and put me through a battery of psychological tests that always turned up empty handed. They would talk to my mom and her ex, that still lived with us, about me and they would lie and say I was anorexic and a bad child.
If anyone took one look at me they would never be able to picture me yelling at anyone. I even once had a teacher who cried asking me why I turned away people who wanted to be my friend. But I couldn’t have friends, I couldn’t let anyone in and let them know what happened at home. I always stayed to myself. Most people older than I wrote me off as a problem child who purposely disregarded school. If any of these people had of actually done any real probing they would have found out I was in foster care and when I was away from home I was on the honor roll and even played an instrument. I had many friends and loved to talk. I was at my highest when I was away from home.
Why don’t more people do actual research? I bet so called ‘bad kids’ could be total opposite if given the opportunity to see what’s really going on. Does that mean that all trouble making students could be turned around by outsiders? No, of course not. But would it be possible to see a major difference in crime rate and prison populations? Certainly! Instead of the school system employing people because of credentials, maybe they should take a look deeper and find people who really CARE. Maybe if there were better people in schools, we’d figure out the problem.
Whether anyone wants to admit it or not, there still is and has always been a problem. It can be helped if there was someone there to do it. I was different. I turned out on the upside because I wanted more for myself, I expected better after I got out of my situation. But what about those who never get out of their situation? Is it ever possible for them to be different if they don’t have the chance to see outside of it? If more people could see this and act on it, I really do believe the world would be a different animal. One that is safer and more understanding, rather than a condemning one.
Community or Chaos?
Reading Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s words remind me of very memorable words from someone else. She said that no matter what happened she still believed that that was some good in people. This was from a girl whom had undergone human nature at its worst. Anne Frank believed in good until she died prematurely in a concentration camp. This thought process was very similar to the works of Dr. King.
Were the dreams of these prominent figures of peace misguided or hopeful? I feel they were hopeful. As long as someone somewhere still believes in mankind, what gives the rest of us reason not to? Why does it take a leader to come forward with positive thoughts and not the whole of the human race? Have people lost that type of flair and really do whatever they can to avoid confrontation? These days who knows what will come of confronting someone, or a nation. There are so many ways to kill an idea or a person with ideas and it seems that people as a whole are afraid. Afraid to die, afraid to lose everything they have, afraid to go after something that will not go anywhere.
A common phrase I heard from people when Ross Perot was running for president was something about how they would vote for him if it wasn’t wasting a vote. Wasting a vote? Are these people for real? If all the people who thought they would waste a vote voted for him who knows what the country would be like today. How is it possible to waste something you weren’t paying or being paid for in the first place. The worst thing that could come out of voting is being out voted. But wouldn’t it be nicer to be able to say you voted for what you believed in because you believed in it instead of voting for who you thought would win?
At that, what happens if somehow other people agreed and he won! Wouldn’t you be ecstatic?! The best part is, if he doesn’t win and the country really starts having the problems, you can honestly say it isn’t your fault.
People are just too skittish. Maybe laziness might also have to do with a lack of radical shakers and movers? Everyone thinks that someone else will take care of 'the problem' whatever that problem might be. Or worse, they don’t see point just like wasting a vote. Why waste my efforts trying to change something that never will? Well it won’t with that attitude. There seems to be a lack of care and motivation unless it is directly hitting you personally. I would love to see someone stand up and gain notoriety for making positive changes in the world rather than being tonight’s news. Everyone seems to be so focused on what everyone else is thinking that they fail to think for themselves and let the media dominate their thoughts, which is why we buy things the way we do and allow ourselves to pay it.
Another problem is waste. People don’t care to waste whether it be food or gas or clothing, you name it people find a way to throw it away. It really is a shame that people care so little about others and the world around them that they just destroy and consume in such a great quantity that the environment can’t keep up. Is the technology we have worth letting our environment go? This is the only earth we know of that we have use of so why is it coming in second place? Shouldn’t keep it beautiful always been the center of our attention? Like I said earlier people will only do something once it starts affecting them. If an asteroid was coming to earth at an unstoppable rate and we were going to lose our planet you better believe people would care then. They would go to the ends of the earth to find a way to keep it, just to have it destroyed again.
A good example of that is after 9/11. That day the country came together in a patriotic hug. We held that hug for about ten seconds and let it go. It was just a matter of months before we were back to our normal selves because the tragedy was over, time to get back to life now. Of course there were people forever altered by it, but for the rest of the population, life goes on. It was just a bump in the road. What road? Why is life a road getting to a destination that isn’t there? Why does it have to be linear? Life should be perceived as circular. In the middle is a big park where our lives are lived out and there is no such thing as a bump in the road, the road doesn’t exist. If everybody could change their thinking, the world could change.
Be the change you wish to see. I tell that to anyone I hear complaining. You can’t expect for things to be perfect if you aren’t perfect, and you’re not. If you want to see a change, be that change! Do what you need to do to reach that goal. If you don’t, no one is going to do it for you. You have to really want it to get it. This is where the circles and squares come in from Black Elk. He understood the concept of the law of attraction and mindsets are put together by the environment you create for yourself. People don’t understand that the world could be how ever they wanted it, if they wanted it bad enough. Every person had the power to create the world they live in, they just don’t have the motivation to do it. That really is unfortunate that it has come to something so little and not even ones own self can motivate enough to make that change. Something important to always remember is, if it is to be it is up to me.
Were the dreams of these prominent figures of peace misguided or hopeful? I feel they were hopeful. As long as someone somewhere still believes in mankind, what gives the rest of us reason not to? Why does it take a leader to come forward with positive thoughts and not the whole of the human race? Have people lost that type of flair and really do whatever they can to avoid confrontation? These days who knows what will come of confronting someone, or a nation. There are so many ways to kill an idea or a person with ideas and it seems that people as a whole are afraid. Afraid to die, afraid to lose everything they have, afraid to go after something that will not go anywhere.
A common phrase I heard from people when Ross Perot was running for president was something about how they would vote for him if it wasn’t wasting a vote. Wasting a vote? Are these people for real? If all the people who thought they would waste a vote voted for him who knows what the country would be like today. How is it possible to waste something you weren’t paying or being paid for in the first place. The worst thing that could come out of voting is being out voted. But wouldn’t it be nicer to be able to say you voted for what you believed in because you believed in it instead of voting for who you thought would win?
At that, what happens if somehow other people agreed and he won! Wouldn’t you be ecstatic?! The best part is, if he doesn’t win and the country really starts having the problems, you can honestly say it isn’t your fault.
People are just too skittish. Maybe laziness might also have to do with a lack of radical shakers and movers? Everyone thinks that someone else will take care of 'the problem' whatever that problem might be. Or worse, they don’t see point just like wasting a vote. Why waste my efforts trying to change something that never will? Well it won’t with that attitude. There seems to be a lack of care and motivation unless it is directly hitting you personally. I would love to see someone stand up and gain notoriety for making positive changes in the world rather than being tonight’s news. Everyone seems to be so focused on what everyone else is thinking that they fail to think for themselves and let the media dominate their thoughts, which is why we buy things the way we do and allow ourselves to pay it.
Another problem is waste. People don’t care to waste whether it be food or gas or clothing, you name it people find a way to throw it away. It really is a shame that people care so little about others and the world around them that they just destroy and consume in such a great quantity that the environment can’t keep up. Is the technology we have worth letting our environment go? This is the only earth we know of that we have use of so why is it coming in second place? Shouldn’t keep it beautiful always been the center of our attention? Like I said earlier people will only do something once it starts affecting them. If an asteroid was coming to earth at an unstoppable rate and we were going to lose our planet you better believe people would care then. They would go to the ends of the earth to find a way to keep it, just to have it destroyed again.
A good example of that is after 9/11. That day the country came together in a patriotic hug. We held that hug for about ten seconds and let it go. It was just a matter of months before we were back to our normal selves because the tragedy was over, time to get back to life now. Of course there were people forever altered by it, but for the rest of the population, life goes on. It was just a bump in the road. What road? Why is life a road getting to a destination that isn’t there? Why does it have to be linear? Life should be perceived as circular. In the middle is a big park where our lives are lived out and there is no such thing as a bump in the road, the road doesn’t exist. If everybody could change their thinking, the world could change.
Be the change you wish to see. I tell that to anyone I hear complaining. You can’t expect for things to be perfect if you aren’t perfect, and you’re not. If you want to see a change, be that change! Do what you need to do to reach that goal. If you don’t, no one is going to do it for you. You have to really want it to get it. This is where the circles and squares come in from Black Elk. He understood the concept of the law of attraction and mindsets are put together by the environment you create for yourself. People don’t understand that the world could be how ever they wanted it, if they wanted it bad enough. Every person had the power to create the world they live in, they just don’t have the motivation to do it. That really is unfortunate that it has come to something so little and not even ones own self can motivate enough to make that change. Something important to always remember is, if it is to be it is up to me.
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