All that I can remember is my dad and I in the old Primrose house. There was a dish of rice and stuff, and he kept asking for more. Then he said his head hurt and he fell over. I woke up this morning crying. Pretty bad.
I found a snail today, curled up on the inside of the lip of a trashcan. The protocol is to throw the snail into the chicken coop in the back. When I reached the wire gate, I looked at the snail. It’s head popped out from the shell, antenna “looking” straight at me. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make eye contact with an animal and allow it to die. So I set it down and walked away.
With all the events that have happened in the recent days, I’m not sure what to do. I mean, is the blue you see the same as the blue I see? Not profound, but what if you can’t see? Does the blue then become a mere memory, and constantly that color is fading in your memory, and the dresses you used to wear no longer have a color, but only texture and shape?
There is no such thing as a unique philosophy anymore. Neither is there a religion. People see the fact that each religion is essentially the same, with the same purpose. We need something to believe in, and a set list of rules to follow, or we’ll all find that life is meaningless and kill one another/kill ourselves/*insert any grotesque acts of selfishness.
It seems like people have unique thoughts, and that their beliefs cannot be the same. But the problem is that there are so many people on this earth that it’s impossible to say something unique. So where does that leave us? The ones that try to find something in this world that hasn’t been done before? Do we just plagiarize? Do we continue to read and quote, and hope that it’s general enough to appeal to those that read?
If you don’t think that there is symbolism in life, you aren’t looking broadly and specifically enough. You’re right in the middle, allowing it to happen to you.
There is no such thing as coincidence. There is no such thing as divine fate. There is action, and there is occurrence. You can put yourself in the best position to succeed, but the fact that the wind blew north today, and there was trash in someone’s front yard, and that the sun was 78 degrees instead of 77, can all influence what happens. People devalue their ability to control their lives.
My grandmother says, often, about God and his help in her life. Well, what about those that work every day to get to the NBA, and they get a devastating injury and their career is over before they started? Can it be helped that one’s effort wasn’t allowed to be matched by the occurrence that is his genetics that made his ACL weak? Or that he chose to wear one shoe over the other? That’s not God’s will, that’s what happens when your effort and the random occurrence of the world come into one another. Religious people put too much emphasis on the randomness aka heavenly influence, and those that put all their belief in their efforts wind up being depressed, because sometimes things just don’t work out for you.
Should I say that God’s will made my mother and my uncle have macular degeneration, something that is found before puberty, but they by chance had it in their mid-50′s? Does the facts that their genetics, of being blonde and blue eyed, and growing up in Arizona and loving the outdoors because it was an escape from their abusive parents, led to this? Is that God’s will, or is it the fact that not many people knew about the importance of protection from the sun, or that their genetics were primed for this illness, or that they both love visual arts, do those all not count for leading up to this point in time?
Things that happen to us are results, caused by circumstances.
See, it’s easy for someone to say “Well, that’s God’s work.” because there’s no ability to refute that. Invisible, unfathomable, and based purely on faith and scripture that was written by a human being.
I can’t hit on women in gyms because I never wear good clothes. I wear baggy things, sometimes with holes in them, because if I’m playing basketball, my skill proves more than my looks. But then the women are like “Uhhhh large, asian, and grimey. Nah.” So I say fuck them and eat chik-fil-a.