Of Compiling Your Life Stories

Autor's Note: This started out as a comment on a blogpost by John Carlton (http://www.john-carlton.com/2009/07/kickin-ass-and-forgettin-names/) and I decided I'll post it here with a few changes to make it appear 'independent'.

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From time to time, we come across something or someone that has a way of jolting us out of our self-imposed stupor and slapping us with ice-cold insight that never fails to shove our faces straight into this porridge filled bowl we call ‘our perfect lives’ and re-evaluate the way it tastes - first at the lips, then the tongue and later at our grissly insides before it gets slopped up into every single cell of our ‘bio-hard drive’.

Life is a collection of pictures and videos and songs and files and what-nots stored, at times haphazardly, in what I just referred to in the previous paragraph as our 'bio-hard drive'.

These experiences are interwoven into a delicate fabric that make up our life stories. The more experiences, the more intricate the pattern.

Consciousness, after all is simply a continuing story - a tale we weave with every single thing we do - and we get to decide how it twists and turns and ends and continues like a river snaking it's way from the mountain where it's spawned, through forests and meadows, through deserts and marshes, until it finds its way to the sea.

Anyway, I have always thought of myself as an early bloomer.

I was preparing dinner for my siblings at the same time that my peers were wading and playing in knee-deep mud puddles. I was helping out my father do home fixes at the same time that my peers were ranting about the kind of brakes their bikes should have. I was working in a minesite as a laborer shoveling rocks and mine goop at the same time that my peers were enjoying high school summer vacation. I was already initiated into the sinful indulgences of the flesh at the same time that my peers were giggling like schoolgirls about their first kisses. I was starting out a career in teaching at the same time that my peers were still unsure what to study in college. I could continue on but I’m sure you get the picture.

With these ‘advanced experiences’ I have always held my head over and above my age level (and sometimes those a bit older than myself) and saying, “I’ve seen more than you can possibly dream. You haven’t seen anything yet, buster.”, albeit silently as I feigned interest in their stories.

But recently (after I came across a blogpost by one of the greatest writers of this time, John Carlton), I simply realized an entirely new perspective in my life’s experiences that I’ve never ever seen before.

You see, I’ve long since stopped savoring my moments. Food is fuel so you just gobble it up. After all you don’t see a car lingering in the gas station ’savoring’ the fresh injection of diesel in their tanks. A beach in any part of the world is simply the same - salty water meeting sand and sometimes testing its resolve against rock cliffs.

I have stopped compiling my stories thinking I had enough.

But that post that talked about writing your own stories and looking at the world through the eyes of people who knew what living was all about, showed me how wrong I am as effectively as a sticking a bunch of dynamite up my butt.

Now I have a newly reborn desire to pile it up, absorb it all and to try to breathe it out in paper and ink so I could show it off like the spoils of conquest.

Simply put, if at this stage (I’m 31) and I already have stories that will make most people I know who are in their 40’s look like kindergarten, what more if I was older?

I have always been told that you should pile up riches in places where moths and rust don't eat and destroy.

Let me now pile up my stories. Let me continue to revel in the beauty and enthusiasm of life. Let me bathe in its triumph and defeats. Let me marvel at the enormity of life's span and scope. And hopefully in the end, when I get to sit with my progeny gathered around my feet and staring at my wrinkled countenance, I would have a wealth of stories to tell them - of the dragons I slayed and of the maidens I danced with and kissed, of the tears I shed and the happiness that made me want more, of the music I've heard and the silences I treasured, of the memories that made me full and the experiences that colored me.

Summer has ended as I am writing this, but I feel like the sun’s beating at my shoulders and stinging my eyes as I feel sweat trickling down my back as the humid air fills my lungs and the salty and tangy scent of skin fills my head.

It’s summer all over again and this has got to be the best I’ve had ever.

Random Sky Shots

I accompanied my sister-in-law in a business transaction once aboard a cargo ship they were commissioned to do repairs on (She and her husband run a company that repairs power generators and a whole lot of technical and mechanical stuff).

I went along with that deal since they needed my "communication skills", as the owner of the ship was a foreigner (Greek, I think) and both husband and wife were somewhat intimidated by the prospect of dealing with someone who speaks another language (we spoke in English, not Greek, in case you're wondering).

Anyway, we stayed onboard the cargo ship for about three days. It was not really a 'memorable experience' as one would define such but it afforded me some rare chances to take snapshots of the sky in that magical time when night succumbs to day.

Here are a few shots:

I have always been fascinated by the colors of the sky especially in the early mornings and late afternoons.

It's amazing how quickly its colors and hues can change right before your eyes without you noticing.

Take a look at these next three pictures. They were all taken from the same spot all within a 5-minute period.

Notice the moon glowing faintly on the first one?

And here are some shots from my own backyard one afternoon not very long ago.

And have you ever wondered how differently a single scene changes depending on the colors the sky paints it with at different parts of the day?

Not even Michaelangelo, Leonardo (and the rest of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...LOL!) can do justice to the beauty of the sky's ever changing palette.

Aint God wonderful for giving us such a canvass adorned with his own masterpiece as a canopy over our heads?

On The Logic Of the Foolish

Foolish people never learn.

That is, what experience and life teaches them never really sticks. They remember it while the licks are still fresh, but as soon as the flesh cools down, the memory of the lesson supposed to be learned vanishes like morning mist towards the midday.

There is a reason why we say, "history repeats itself." The most common is that because it does. If you want to go academic, there are plenty of proof that this is true; the Dialectic, the Principle of Socio-Political Cyclical Movement, Psycho-Social Patterns etc. Even the Bible says, we look for things that have already happened, in the future.

Given this premise, it is then logical that we really should "learn from our mistakes", or "heed the wisdom of those who have gone before" or "remember the lessons of the past for reference to the future". Because if history repeats itself, it follows that the difficulties that come with it also repeats itself. In which case if you've encountered a particular problem in the past, you will encounter it again today or tomorrow and you're in trouble if you don't remember how you can solve it.

This truth applies not only to singular aspects of life but in multiple occurrences in a several alternate planes.

After all a man is not just a man. He is a son, a brother, a friend, a master, a husband, a lover, an enemy and the list goes on. And each of these alternate planes have its own history of decisions and indecisions. And all these realities are intertwined in a single complex fabric of experiences that encompass the entirety of a person's life memory.

It follows then that if a person sees a pattern that recurs several times in one of his life planes, it is understandable that he take measure to prevent any negative effects that this may bring about. If it persists, then he can continue trying to shield himself or he can simply change the way he looks at it. Maybe the pattern is an integral part of the fabric.

Most of the time, it is.

As such, there would be no sense fighting it as doing so would only disrupt the fabric and possibly even create a tear.

Don't miss the forest for the tree.

October 30 - Thursday Bloody Thursday

***Author's Note: This article has been written months ago. I had just recently had the chance to post it here.
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Last Thursday was an emotional roller coaster.

I accompanied my daughter to her school's children's party. It was okay. Aside from her throwing a tantrum early in the morning because she got into a "minor misunderstanding" with her mother regarding her hairstyle, she immediately lightened up as soon as we got to the school and she saw her friends.

They presented a Hawaiian dance and I think it was cute with all their costumes and inability to keep up with the beat. You can see they were having fun though. Some classes presented a variety of other dances and songs. It was fun. I enjoyed it.

When food was served during lunch, I heard some of her classmates complaining about not having enough cake or ice cream or not liking the way the spaghetti tasted or that the spring roll tasted funky or not being able to finish their food after just a few mouthfuls and all.

The usual whining that children of that age class usually had.

My daughter was quiet though and tried to finish her food. I have always trained my children to finish their food the best they could. So she tried - in between glances to my direction. She left only half of her serving of chocolate cake which was okay by me because my wife actually put a lot of it on her plate - I think she put half a cake on it!

The party was okay.

In the afternoon, I joined my officemates to tend to another children's party. This time, it was in line with the City Government's culminating activity for the observance of Children's Month. We sponsored a Trick or Treat event for street children.

That's where the roller coaster began.

When I arrived at the venue, the committee members were getting ready to feed the children. A local restaurant sponsored lunch for the streetchildren consisting of rice, fried chicken, buttered vegetables and a brownie.

It was pandemonium.

The children were rowdy and undisciplined. As soon as they saw that we were ready to distribute the food among them, they started yelling and shouting and scrambling to get their share. It reminded me of a movie I saw where a wounded man accidentally slipped and fell into a piranha infested pool. Knowing, Hollywood, you probably know how it ended for the poor guy.

Fish food...

After noisily finishing up their food in like a split second, the children saw that one of the committee members still had an unopened food pack. As soon as he announced, he's giving the food to whoever was still hungry, he got mobbed!

Huge mistake!

I was half expecting him to lose an arm or half a leg when 60 children lunged at him asking for their share of that one food pack. Poor guy!

During the actual trick or treating activity to store owners in the city owned mall, we got smart and assigned one marshall for every five children. We know how stubborn these kids can be so we made it as manageable as possible for the marshalls. Before they did though, the children gave a special presentation. They sang three songs; the Dagupan City Hymn and a couple other church songs.

It seemed as if the entire mall went silent when they began singing and I felt a small pinch in my heart as I listened.

It was done in acapella. Amidst the dissonant sound and their off-key singing you can hear them try to please everyone. With every rise and fall of their small voices and every wave of their skinny arms with the simple choreography I saw, for the briefest moment, a flicker of hope in their young eyes. Hope that there is, somehow, some bright future awaiting them.

I don't easily get moved by these things. I get glassy eyed watching a movie sometimes, but seldom do I get emotional about anything. This however, hit me straight in the gut like a blow from a professional boxer - okay an amateur boxer - or maybe even my 4-year old son. Point is that I got hit.

The hypnosis ended as soon as they finished their songs and started to get excited about all the goodies that'll start filling up their bags.

We fed them dinner afterwards and it was a sequel to their horror story of a lunch. Worse even, they started throwing ice at each other and when ice ran out, they started throwing food. One boy even chased a little girl who was making faces at him and gave her a quick right-hook that hit her smack on the kisser - but not before she hurled a left counterpunch that would have put most Mexican boxers to shame.

That night, as I was writing sales and email copies, I remembered the entire day. It started playing in front of my eyes and right at the computer screen like an old movie.

Just as I was banishing the memory to concentrate on work, my kids came to me and gave me their customary goodnight kisses. My daughter was a bit more tender as she hugged me tight and said, "Love you Papa" before giving me a peck on the cheek.

I want to rail and rant at the parents of those children we handled earlier in the afternoon. Their irresponsibility and inambition has left those poor kids with a future that may be best described by Ninoy Aquino's favorite song - probably their parents' favorite videoke song as well.

From time to time, we get a glimpse of that ever widening chasm between the haves and the have nots. But none is probably more mocking in it's blatant ugly truthfulness as seeing the gap in the faces of young children.

I can, at least, do something about my own children.

I just don't know about the others.

gift or curse?

I'm not trying to sound like Spider-Man.

I like the guy but I'm more of a Superman / Wolverine fan.

Anyway, what I'm talking about is my ability to talk to myself in the second person and listen in the third (sometimes even the fourth depending on my psycho-analytic mood).

Although this has been a great help inasmuch as refining my values and analyzing my beliefs are concerned, for the past few months, the revelations I have been uncovering have been becoming more and more disturbing than ever.

In fact, going through it, I usually imagine myself as St. John the Divine as he was being shown the Revelation of Jesus Christ or as Dante as he descended into the rings of his Inferno.

As I go through this process, more and more do I hope and grope for that elusive and non-existent "Reset Button", or better yet, the "Delete Button".

Oftentimes, it is easy to talk about moral, emotional and spiritual restructuring, but it truly is an impossible task when you can't let go of certain things that you need to.

My second person (the ever-dependable confidante, the one I talk to) espouses, I can just concentrate on the things I need to concentrate on such as family and work. He can take care of all other things I am still having an attachment to and I don't need to know or worry about them. Sounds great, except that I would still be privy to whatever he's up to and that knowledge alone is enough to get me off course like a ship with a broken gyroscope and compass and is caught in the middle of a tempest in the high seas.

My third person (the silent but discerning listener, who's also one hell of a bad ass) believes I usually create my own problems by deliberately refusing to let go of past attachments. He says I'm one greedy son of a bitch, wanting everything but refusing to compromise and giving no quarter whatsoever. He's convinced I have sticks the size of Redwoods up my ass and they're up too deep they're poking my medulla oblongata and my hypothalamus - which explains my inexplicable moral-spiritual-emotional attachments and quirks. He recommends I subject myself to a jumbo-sized enema and rectal surgery by none other than Vlad the Impaler.

My fourth person (the one with logic colder than deep-space ice) says the situation is easy. I just need to make a list of things that I don't really need. Emotions should be set aside as well as any kind of attachment when making the list. Once the list is complete, all I need to do is to let go of those things. Leave them behind and move on and never look back. he says, this is my primordial "Reset Button".

Both my second and my third disagree with him because they know that as soon as I follow his advise, all of them would inevitably disappear. My fourth seems unaffected by this prospect. He's for logical solutions and nothing more. This is the reason why my fourth is usually left uninvited during "Introspective Meetings". But somehow, he still manages to be in the loop with everything.

Sometimes I think he's psychic.

Before anyone of you guys get any ideas, I'm not going cuckoo.

Far from it. I've never felt more sane than ever before.

I think it's the rest of the world that's going crazy.

Of Things Out Of Reach...

In that movie "Men of Honor" with Cuba Gooding Jr. and Robert De Niro, Cuba's character was asked what made him so determined to succeed in anything he set his mind to, and he said, "Because they told me I couldn't have it...

"That perhaps is the kind of character we need to be cultivating in ourselves.

When things just seem out of reach, outrightly impossible to achieve and when odds simply tell you, "You can't have it", that's the time we should silently recollect and ask ourselves, "How much do I want it?"

And if you want it bad enough, then go get it. as long as it is within the bounds of morality and ethics, then go ahead and get it. Own it. Live it. Enjoy it.

There is a sense of pure joy and victory here; when you're being discouraged right off the bat and you simply shake off the discouragement and set out to accomplish that which they say you cannot have. That's character.

But there simply are things that can not be had - and no measure of determination and character can make you have them.

But then again, most of the time, impossible just takes a little longer...

You just gotta have faith...

Of Kindness

Kindness is an act of goodness stemming from the inner recesses of the heart and comes out instinctively and spontaneously like spring waters and fruits in season. It needs no reason, nor does it need motivation.

Kindness and the ability to show it when least expected is proof of man's innate goodness and superiority as a specie.

The capacity for kindness requires intellect and high understanding - such as not consciously exercised but is exuded as an aura. It is an embedded program that kicks in at the right moment and at the right instance.

Notice that when you are in a situation where you are about to show kindness, there is always a small inkling of the question, "why?" To give in to the inkling means to hesitate and to debate with oneself on the act's veracity - thus diminishing the value of the act of kindness.

For it to be pure and true and worthwhile, kindness when gushing forth like living waters should not be stemmed, nor shall it be dammed. Let it pour to quench the fire in the world's throat and in the world's belly.

Fool

"If enduring pain, braving shame, despising one's self for the sake of affection and accepting misery without question is the definition of love - then, I LOVE YOU."
Marvin Jay M. Torres

Invisible...

Ever wondered what the air probably feels had it been gifted with consciousness?

He makes life possible for practically all living organisms but is almost always never noticed.

Well, I know how that feels...

Coffee Fix

I can't remember when I developed my steamy love affair with coffee.

All I know is that I've been drinking it forever.

There was even a time back in college when breakfast, for me, was just coffee and Marlboros. Whenever I felt like that was not enough, I'd whip up some orange juice to go with the coffee and the cigs.

I drink two mugs of coffee in the morning, a cup (since we don't have mugs) in the office by mid-morning, another cup by mid-afternoon, a mug once I get home and another mug at night while working late.

If what they say about coffee being healthy is true, then I should be in tip-top shape by now.

I wonder if my mom fed me coffee when I was a baby...

Hmmm...

I'd better go ask her.

Learn to Live with It

There are people who come along in your life whom you don't simply meet - they "happen" in your life.

People who create impressions so profound that they're able to alter the very core of your being. People who become so ingrained in your lifestory - regardless of time and distance and everything in between - that when you're finally compelled by circumstance to move on without them, life takes on a pallor of incongruity. People who become, for you, the definition of living itself.

You don't die without these people. You don't get suddenly infected with an incurable melancholy and longing that blankets your psyche and drains you of all happiness and willingness to live. In fact, you may even learn to let go and you may get over the initial emptiness and start to live a rather fruitful life with those whom you really are destined to be with.

Worst case is that these people can be dismissed as mere novelties, passing fancies, just a phase...

But everytime memories collide with reality, the truth stares at you blatantly - and fiercely - daring you to stare back, daring you to deny, daring you.

You just learn to deal with it, go on with it, live with it.

As Easy as "Press Delete"

Your computer is slow. It takes forever to navigate from page to page. It takes twice of forever to access and open folders. It's almost impossible to wait for programs and applications to load. What do you do? You clean it, of course. Choose all unused icons in your system tray, desktop, and start up menu and simply press, "delete". Viola! Your pc would instantly act a lot better. Furthermore, open your internet options and optimize your I.P. by deleting cookies and temporary internet files. This is like pouring a gallon of liquid sosa into a clogged drain.

This also goes for cellphones (especially those with expandable memories). All you need to do is flag all unnecessary and unwanted messages, pictures, ringtones, mp3 files and the like, and press, "delete". Bingo! More efficient performance.

Unfortunately, it's a different case with your own memories - especially those stored in the heart. Try as you may, you never forget them. They stay with you forever. Sometimes they may lie dormant but as soon as these memories are stirred - even in the slightest manner, they come to life and they engulf you with the sheer intensity of longing.

There's no sense looking for a "delete" button because there's none.

You have no choice but to deal with the memories - and deal with them you must. Otherwise, you'll be consumed like dried leaves in an autumn fire - and all that will be left would be ashes carried away by a torrent of tears.

Of Chameleons and Men

Things aren't always as easy as they seem. As the Transformers tagline says, "More than meets the eye."

People who are able to do that are either experienced chameleons or on their way to becoming one. Be warned though, the road to creating an unbreakable facade is like a room full of mirrors. You can easily get lost in the maze of reflections and re-reflections and the result may be more grotesque than you expect.

A chameleon only blends with the background but it's essence remains the same. If you're able to change your appearance, you better know how to get back to what's real, because sooner than you'll expect, the thin line that separates the two becomes blurred and obfuscated until it totally vanishes. A strong anchor is necessary. Otherwise you'll never know where lies end and the truth begins.

Most people say they are strong enough to withstand temptation but even the strongest can only take so much. There will always be a point when something starts to give. And then everything shatters in an infinitesimal shower of confusion.

But get this, are you even sure that what you're resisting isn't the truthful reality you're supposed to be living? What if the life you're trapped in now is the lie? What if the reason why you can't let go of something, why fate shoves you the same old crap over and over again is because it's its way of telling you, "Hey dumbass! This is what's supposed to be for you! This is your destiny! Why can't you get it into that thick skull of yours!

"Everything changes drastically then, doesn't it?

Then again, I could be wrong.

Paradigm shift.

Of Goodbyes

Goodbye is probably the most overrated word in the world.

I mean why say it if you know you're going to meet again? Might as well say, "See you." or "Till we meet again." or anything to that effect except goodbye.

Especially if you know that no matter what you do, no matter how and where you hide, no matter how long it takes, you're going to meet up with someone again, why say "goodbye?"

It's a waste of 7 letters of the alphabet.

Worse still, some people even use it as an excuse to cover up for their confusion.

There's no such thing as "goodbye..."

the REAL joke...

For those who know me, I wonder if you can find the funniest post here... In fact, it's so funny, you'll probably throttle me because of it!

For those who don't know me, don't bother...

Joke

It's amazing how easily a facade of normalcy crumbles at the mere sight of a familiar face.

Sometimes we go through periods of difficulty and strife that leave us terrified and scarred and utterly confused and even unwilling to move on. There can even be times when it seems everything is in a state of suspended animation as we are bomabarded by questions like, "how could this have ever happened to me?", or "why is this happening to me?" or thoughts like, "this could not possible be happening!" or "this is all just a bad dream and I need to wake up!", but even after you open your eyes, the truth just blatantly stares you in the face in all its utter monstrosity. It is real. It is happening. It is happening TO YOU!

Such can prove traumatic for anyone. It wouldn't matter if you're a trooper extraordinaire or just an average joe. Circumstance has an uncanny way of finding the smallest chink in even the strongest armor.

Is anyone safe? Is anyone immune to the caprices of fickle fate?

We are often taught that when life throws you lemons, make lemonade, sell it for a quarter a glass and keep the proceeds in a piggy bank. The more lemons, the more lemonade. The more lemonade, the more quarters. The more quarters, the richer you become. Bring it to a roll and soon enough you'll be a millionaire!

Hah! Lemons and millionaires! What a joke!

Yes, life and living it is the greatest adventure of all. But sometimes you simply find yourself way over your head and you wonder where in the world is the reset button.

If only it were that easy.

She

She was like
A breath of fresh air
In a scorching desert
Refreshing yet fleeting
Gone sooner than she arrived
Which makes you think
Was she real or just a make believe
Yet even as she vanished
She was able to provide
A few moment of reprieve
From the discord
That I feel
Like Music
Floating
Like Leaves
In a puddle
Rippling the tears
Of an unsolved riddle
Life and Love merged
In that transient moment
Time and Space
Bent forward and backwards
As if light passing through a crooked prism
Bathing my being
In a Dance
Of light and Shadow
And defining my very existence
How can a short episode
Of a
Union
of Souls
Rival a Lifetime
Of Pre supposed peace?
How can love so pure and true
And Enduring
Be shrouded in Lies?

Of Individualism

If there are a million people saying blood is blue and there is only one person that says it is red, does that make him wrong and the rest correct? Would you stop breathing just because people say that the air is dirty and it would kill you? What are they breathing in, in the first place? Water? Would you be afraid to travel by sea if people tell you the world is flat and you would fall off the edge if you wander too far? If i cut myself, who bleeds? Is it proper to alter your moral judgement just to accomodate ignorance, double standards and most people's warped sense of right and wrong?

There was once a farmer and his son who were walking home from the field alongside their trusty carabao. On the way, they heard some people saying, "Look at that farmer letting his poor son walk with him when he can let him ride the carabao." The farmer looked at his son and said, "They're right." So he let his son ride the animal. Some distance away, they heard another group of people saying, "Look at that ungrateful son riding the carabao while his old father is walking. Has he no respect for elders?" The son immediately got off the carabao and allowed his father to be the one to ride the beast. A few meters ahead, a number of people saw them and said, "Look at those two idiots taking turns riding the carabao when they can both ride it." Hearing this, the farmer and his son both got atop the carabao and continued home, now riding the beast. A short distance away from their own house, they passed another group of people saying, "Look at those two ingrates riding the carabao after they had worked it on the field all day! Have they no pity for the poor animal?" The farmer and his son looked at each other and in exasperation, carried the carabao through the remainder of the way.

Who is foolish?

Everyone is gifted with intellect, judgement and a conscience. Each of these is not in perfect proportion with the others but each person definitely possessing all three. Thus, everyone is capable of making their own decisions for themselves. They do not need others to do it for them. If you get burned, learn from it. Seek advise for sometime, but not always. Follow some advise you are given, but not all of it. Life is a lesson. We can't have others learn it for us. Others can show us the way, provide guidance, offer some help, but it is we who would walk it, we who would live it.

It is true that people are social beings by nature. Man is inevitably connected, one way or another, to others. From the moment we are concieved from the intimate union of our parents, to the time the doctor pulls us out of the womb, to the time we encounter our first childhood friends and sweethearts, to the fulfillment and disillusionment of our dreams, to, even, the silent mourners by our deathbeds, we are social. As such, our actions have social repurcussions. Society judges our actions by the measure provided by norms, mores and values laid down by eons of experience and co-existence. There are instances that written laws are not needed to determine the validity of certain actions. This is a generally accepted fact in human society. It is one of the basic foundations of sociological structure.

Yet, this is not absolute.

Man has a weakness. He is not infallible. No amount of experience, technology, knowledge and power can change the fact that man is not, by any stretch, perfect. Thus, his standards also are, by no means, absolute. Fact is, that all accepted norms of behavior started out as an extraordinary act. History teaches us that not because we don't understand something, makes it evil, not because we can't do something, makes it impossible, not because people say something is wrong, makes it so.

Yes, man is social. But he is also an individual. Truth of the matter is that the individuality of man defines the quality of the social structure. the diversity of human beliefs and motivations, purifies and characterizes any given society.

What is the point, then?

One can not live his life in the perpetual shadow of another's existence and beliefs, much less the society's. He must live out his life as an individual in an interconnected society. He must follow societal rules, only as far as his own individuality dictates. He must never compromise his own standing on issues that would nullify the veracity of his own intellect, judgement and conscience. Bandwagonism, gossip, malicious intrigue and singularism are the enemies of individualism and, in effect, of defined social structure.

Let a man live his life. Help him if you may. Guide him if you can. Offer advise if you have it. But let him live his own life. If he gets burned, let him, and hope that his scars would remind him of the lesson he should have learned. This is not abandonment or exercised apathy. This is the essence of applied democracy. In doing so, not only are you keeping yourself in your proper place as a peer, but you are also taking part in the process of strengthening his character, like gold tested and purified in fire. On the other hand, never compromise what you believe in to be true, just to give way for meddlers. Stand for what you believe is true, and dear and pure. If you fall, accept it, learn from it and stand and move on. Never let your individuality be unnecessarily clouded by false exhortations of what is socially acceptable, and morally upright. Half of the people saying this don't even know what those terms truly mean.

We all live interconnectedly in this world, but our interconnection ends where another persons right to live his own life, begins. After all, you wouldn't want others to tell you how to live your own life, nor would you want to be the singular authority on how people should live their lives, right?

Sad Song

Ah, music floats like leaves in a puddle. Rippling the tears from an unsolved riddle...

IF by Rudyard Kipling

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,'
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!