One day, about four years ago, I began talking in rhyme and didn't stop for four hours. Another time I spent two day stuck in the bad russian accent I used for Fezzik the Giant.
I once stayed awake for thirty six hours straight, and during that time I met and did battle with the metaphorical personification of technology that has gotten beyond man's control and come to control him.
This evening someone conned me out of five dollars and change because when I listened to his story I could not convince myself beyond doubt that he was lying, and my faith in humanity is such that I decided to take a chance on a con man rather than shut the door on a person in need.
I can't help but wonder if this experience will change how I behave next time a stranger requests aid.
I have done many good and many terrible things in my life. I like to think that the good would outweigh the bad in the eyes of someone whose judgement is not clouded by the first hand experience of it all. I like to think that many of the evil things that I have done were rooted in ignorance rather than willful malice. I know that some of them were rooted in weakness, fear, and lack of resolve. I feel fortunate that I can think of only a few that derrived from knowing, willful evil.
Writing this has gotten me thinking about why I write these journal entries. I know that if I knew that no one would read them I would not bother to write them, but I also do not particularly care who reads them or what they think of them. Simply knowing that the writing is available to those who would be interested makes the writing worthwhile, and the benefit I derrive from it is a means of expression both more permanent and more insightful than what I could hope to achieve with only my own thoughts.
Strange, non?
I know so little of those around me who I call friends. I should seek to learn more, but I am only just begging to learn how that knowledge may be gainfully and respectfully sought, so it may be some time in coming and when it does will the people who so interested me still be present that I might learn from them?
I once stayed awake for thirty six hours straight, and during that time I met and did battle with the metaphorical personification of technology that has gotten beyond man's control and come to control him.
This evening someone conned me out of five dollars and change because when I listened to his story I could not convince myself beyond doubt that he was lying, and my faith in humanity is such that I decided to take a chance on a con man rather than shut the door on a person in need.
I can't help but wonder if this experience will change how I behave next time a stranger requests aid.
I have done many good and many terrible things in my life. I like to think that the good would outweigh the bad in the eyes of someone whose judgement is not clouded by the first hand experience of it all. I like to think that many of the evil things that I have done were rooted in ignorance rather than willful malice. I know that some of them were rooted in weakness, fear, and lack of resolve. I feel fortunate that I can think of only a few that derrived from knowing, willful evil.
Writing this has gotten me thinking about why I write these journal entries. I know that if I knew that no one would read them I would not bother to write them, but I also do not particularly care who reads them or what they think of them. Simply knowing that the writing is available to those who would be interested makes the writing worthwhile, and the benefit I derrive from it is a means of expression both more permanent and more insightful than what I could hope to achieve with only my own thoughts.
Strange, non?
I know so little of those around me who I call friends. I should seek to learn more, but I am only just begging to learn how that knowledge may be gainfully and respectfully sought, so it may be some time in coming and when it does will the people who so interested me still be present that I might learn from them?