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Reflections

Time is a human construct.

Cleverer men and women than I have written at great length on this subject.  They have written about how humankind is unique among all life on Earth, in that only we fear time running out.  We schedule our lives around numbers based upon the rotation of our planet, agreed-upon terms that the passing world doesn’t even notice.

We have idioms for time.  It flies when we have fun, and it slows to a crawl when you’re taking a standardized test.

And sometimes, three days and two nights can seem like an eternity.

Humans develop habits and hobbies to fill our time.  We talk to each other, create media for each other, spend hours of our day interacting with other humans.   Consciously or not, we fill our space with ideas and items, things for our minds to occupy themselves with.

Our lives are so full of things that we have an entire classification for the strange thoughts we have when we are alone.  “Shower Thoughts”.  The time when it is most difficult for us to occupy our minds, when they are free to wander and wonder.

So what happens when all the things that make up a life vanish?  What happens when a mind, previously suspended in the comfortable white noise of all the ideas and items and interactions of the world, finds itself in a still, quiet space?

The first urge is likely to fill the void.  Open your phone, open your computer, open a book, turn on the TV.

But what if it doesn’t work?  What if the mind is so rattled by the silence that our attempts to generate new things for it just can’t hold its interest?  It has only one thing left to look at.

Itself.

Introspection has never been my strongest suit.  “Tell us about yourself!” was always a statement I dreaded.  I used to brush it off.

“There’s nothing much to tell.”  “What you see is what you get.”

Sometimes I’d make things up entirely.  Anything to deflect the discussion in a direction that was not towards me.  A direction other than inwards.

And yet, I’ve spent three nights and two days doing little else.

I didn’t know where to begin.  When one is practiced at avoiding an activity, getting started can be difficult, to say the least.  So I started with words that others had ascribed to me.  Criticisms I had always brushed aside before.  What did I care what this person or that thought of me?  But now it was different.  The words were under my skin, inside my head, and this time, they could not be brushed aside.

Some of them were no surprise.  Even with an aversion to introspection, there were character flaws of which I had always been well aware.   Some had been dismissed as trivial, others eternally set aside.  “I’ll work on changing that… just not yet.”

But some words were new.  Accusations that echoed in my mind like the gavel of a judge pronouncing her sentence.  Many of them even brought back memories of times when I had denied that those words could ever apply to me.

And yet, they did.  And they do.  Three nights and two days, and I’ve worn a rut with how many times I’ve walked the same mental pathways, always circling back to the same conclusions.  She was right.  They were right.

There are many mistakes I made whose repercussions can never be undone.  Words and deeds whose wrongs can never be put right.  It took a lot to finally make me see.  Years of slowly-gathered emotion, clarified and honed into a single, piercing event.

But now I see.

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Whitein

Did you see what I did there? With the title? Yes, it’s a whitein. The opposite of a blackout. Yes, I’m very clever. Mwaha.

… Ahem. Anyway.

I’m back.  Graduation was amazing, and my grandmother and aunt came down to visit, so that was awesome.  I got to go to one of my favorite restaurants, and see the Avengers again.

Let’s see, recent developments…  Well, expect to see reviews of The Avengers, Diablo III, and World of Warcraft sometime in the near future.  Also expect to see me moving slightly away from my opinions and back into short stories.

I have had a lot of new story/world/character ideas, so I might be introducing some or all of them to you at some point in the near future.

Also, I’m accepting commissions for short stories, in any setting, almost any genre, featuring any characters you want, whether they’re mine, yours, or from a popular story or show that I’ve seen.

I think that about covers it for now.  Further bulletins as events warrant.

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Love, Beauty, and God

Spoilers, but please read anyway.  This is important.

I just saw this movie, Trust, about a young girl who was tricked by a man in his thirties into meeting him, after which he raped her.  And it… it hurt.  It’s always been a weak point of mine, wanting to help the girls that are abused like that, but this was more than that.  It made me regret, all over again and with far more intensity, every mistake I’ve made.  All the people I’ve hurt.  And it made me think of something else as well.

I watched as the girl was mocked by her peers, interrogated by her parents (who, admittedly, had every right to), and put through therapy.  She had no solid rock to cling to.  Everything around her crumbled, and she was adrift in her sea of emotions, without so much as a piece of flotsam to help her stay up.

At the end of the movie, the mocking and slandering from her classmates becomes too much to bear, and she takes every pill in the medicine cabinet to try and kill herself.  Her parents get her to the hospital in time, and she lives, but I couldn’t help but wonder: how many girls succeed?  How many girls in their teens get assaulted like that, and don’t have anyone to turn to, so they try to take their lives, and succeed?

This is the world we live in, and I hate it.  I hate the darkness in our cities, the darkness that festers in the hearts of men and drives them to commit these unspeakably horrific acts.  I hate the apathy of the populace, the apathy that allows crimes to take place just outside their windows, right under their noses, without being reported.  Sometimes I agree with Rorschach, one of the anti-heroes in The Watchmen.

“March, 1964. Stopped at newsstand on way to work, bought paper. There she was. On front page. Woman who’d ordered special dress. Kitty Genovese. Raped. Tortured. Killed. Here. In New York. Outside her own apartment building. Almost forty neighbors heard screams. Nobody did anything. Nobody called cops. Some of them even watched. Do you understand? I knew what people were then, behind all the evasions, all the self-deception. Ashamed for humanity I went home. I took the remains of her unwanted dress and made a face that I could bear to look at in the mirror.”

That’s what humanity seems to be, sometimes.  I want to change that.  People say one person can’t make a difference, I say they’re wrong.  Time and time again, a single person has stood against the darkness and won.  Darkness is only the absence of Light, so one Light can dispel a great deal of darkness.  I’m going to stand against this darkness, and I won’t let anything say it can’t be done.

Right now you’re probably wondering what my plan is.  If I even have a plan.  I do.  I have a master plan that I can’t even begin to work on yet, and I have a much more achievable plan that I’m already doing.  Short-term plan: be here.  Be the solid rock for any and all girls that need it.  Reach into the darkness and bring Light.  Support groups like To Write Love On Her Arms, groups that exist to help these people.

Long-term, currently unachievable plan: make a place for them.  For all the girls who think they’d rather just die, for all the girls, teenage girls, who are currently prostituting themselves because that’s the only way they think they can feel beautiful, even just for a moment, I want to offer something better.  A home.  It will take a lot of money and effort, but I want to build a huge complex, a home for any and all young people who have none.  Teach them, guide them, help them find a place and a way in the world.

I want the teen suicide rate to fall to zero.  I want teen depression to end.  I want them all to know that, even if no one else in the world loves them, God does.  And because God does, I do.

I don’t care what’s in your past.  The all-powerful Lord of Hosts does not make ugly things.  Each and every human being on this earth is beautiful. He thinks so.  I think so.  He extends His unconditional love to all, and so I do the same.

To all the girls in this world that are hurting, or lonely: you’re beautiful.  I love you.  I don’t know you, but God does, and He loves you, and that’s all the reason I need.

Please, if you’ve read this, share it.  Show it to someone who needs it.  Tell them they are loved.

God bless you all.

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Uprising Progress Log 2

I didn’t get to post this yesterday, since the internet got pulled earlier than I expected.  I also didn’t accomplish nearly as much as I had hoped. I blame The Dreamer,  since I spent a lot of time yesterday helping her with her story. Anyway…

Words: 13.5k

Pages: 66

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Book Review: The Fight of Our Lives

I unfortunately couldn’t add the requisite link to this site, since it’s wordpress, so I had to write it on my family’s blog. Go read it.

http://www.as-for-my-house.com/2011/05/book-review-the-fight-of-our-lives/

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My Video

This isn’t writing related (gasp), but some friends of mine and I made a video that was kind of a parody of house, talking about ESP. It’s hilarious, in my opinion.

 

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