Games

Games, by their very nature, are meant to be fun, right? A quick rifling through dictionary.com asserts that the word itself indeed originated from the antiquated gamen, which meant joy, amusement, and fun. So one naturally assumes that humans invent and participate in games because it is enjoyable to do so. This innate positivity has resulted in games gaining other roles aside from simple entertainment. Children can learn and internalize basic but crucial skills such as reading and mathematics under the pretense of playing a fun game. As people grow, they may also refine and perfect their own skills through games, and boost their self-confidence through victory. People may place material items on the line in a game, sometimes even betting their futures on an unknown outcome. People receive entertainment from participating in such pasttimes, surely enough. Of course, people can receive this joy from a myriad of other activities, such as ruining the lives of others.

People lie and people cheat and people manipulate. We play games with others in order to outwit them, to prove our own superiority, to reap some inane benefit, or merely because we feel like it. We will pierce someone's limbs, string them up on a stage, and watch them dance entirely on a whim. For amusement. We, sometimes for no reason and sometimes for less than a reason, will play games with people's hearts as easily as we roll the dice.

One could say I have a slight problem, an issue, if you will, with this recurrence in human behavior. That would be an understatement.

Alice and Bob are longtime friends with undeniable romantic tension lurking beneath the surface. Bob had a bad day at work and wants to feel better about himself. He tells Alice he loves her, to see how she will react. Alice is overjoyed. Bob does not truly love her.

Already, at my tender age of eighteen, have I witnessed these games being played out. Not all quite so horrible as Bob's gambit, others even worse. I'll admit, I have toyed with others as well, for no particularly good reason. People become cracked and splintered after repeated abuse, just as our game pieces do, so why do we continue? I am still in high school. I, and my fellows, should be surrounded by a positive environment of strong moral convictions, not exposed daily to poisonous moral decay. Maybe I am exaggerating my own circumstances. Perhaps my home is not as bad as it could be, relatively. That is hardly the point.

Why do people, fellow human beings, persist in acting this way? I understand that I am young and trapped within the sheltered bubble of my home suburb. Perhaps I just don't understand how the "real world" works for the complex minds adults possess. However, call me naive, and I'll call you a liar, and you can't deny that. Why can't people just try to be a little more honest with each other?

This I Believe

I believe in humanity.

I have no heartfelt tale to base my feelings on. There is no defining personal experience that thawed my cynical heart and changed my life forever, no single being who influenced me in such a revolutionary way. I simply cast my die in favor of man, with not a glance at the odds. I simply believe in human potential.

People will get knocked, or even beaten down from their aspirations. That's just a given of life. No matter how hard and long you practice or study or prepare, somewhere down the road, there will be someone superior to you, stronger, faster, smarter, sharper, better. Again, I don't need personal experiences to glean that little life lesson from my meager eighteen years. Who can claim to have truly lived without having once drowned in defeat? However, that's what I believe in: the insurmountable natural tendency for humans, no matter how battered and broken, to rise up, dust themselves off, shoot the bird, and keep walking. Some people may call it a gesture of futility, or even stupidity, and shower the defeated with cutting derision, but so too will there always be people in the world who kneel beside them and help them stand. Even if it is only to be bested once more, I can't help but admire the human ability to struggle up a staircase of defeats until you or I or anybody is able to achieve their goals and dreams.

But then the pessimist asks me, "How can you believe in a species so monstrous as humans?" which merits, "The same way you and I exist, brother mine," from the optimist. Humans hurt each other, humans kill each other, and humans destroy each other. I know that.

Humans are the single greatest harbinger of negativity to other humans. I know that.

We spread heinous lies and hide the deepest truths whenever it best suits our own interests. We pull no punches to even the most pitiable and handicapped foe. If a friend, dear or not, comes to us in search of help, we swiftly calculate how best to reap profit from the plight of another. If an entire other country possesses something we desire, we will slaughter any number of people in order to claim it for ourselves, and we will do the same to people of our own country, with not the slightest hesitation.

I can't even log on to Facebook anymore without seeing something that utterly disgusts me, much less turning on the TV and watching local or national news. Humans will sacrifice anything, even themselves, to get what they want.

But, just as all I have said is true, the very opposite holds true just as well. Dark deeds gain their definition from the light. Just as humans destroy life for any reason, or even no reason, so too do humans save it.

I believe in hope.

On Leadership, Again (more specific this time)

Leading a group of the self-possessed, stubborn, and capricious children known as teenagers is an interesting business, to say the least. You go through all of the effort required to be recognized as a leader by the adults, only to have to start all over again in convincing your peers that you are, in fact, more qualified in the many areas that comprise leadership than they are. Every group has a handful of people that believe nobody could possibly be more capable than themselves. Teenage groups have more than a handful, but I have been able to persuade my peers to follow me multiple times. You don’t have to be loud about it, or forceful about it. You just have to show them, show them that they can trust you. They can trust their success in you.

I have been the section leader or at least a higher-up of every ensemble I’ve been involved with. It has been my job to make sure everything is happening efficiently, no matter who I have to work with, and to ensure that any arising problems, whether from the group itself or from an individual, are solved in a manner that does not involve any conflict or controversy from anyone. I know very well that a leader is not everyone’s friend, and I have had to tell good friends off before and get them to take things seriously, but a good leader can do the job without becoming everyone’s enemy and can maintain the group sense of camaraderie that allows the great musicians to perform truly well together. A good leader can spread their own high standards across to everyone, and cause people to want to do well for their own sakes and not some sort of reward. I have done this before, and not merely once.

While it is indeed difficult to earn the respect of one’s superiors, it is harder still to gain the same from those one has been elevated above. A position is formed not from the holder, but from those supporting him. A leader is just the guide, bringing everyone to greater success without regard for personal glory, while also taking full responsibility for the failures and transforming the negatives into new positives. I’ve taken responsibility for many…unfortunate accidents involving both people and collateral damage. I’ve also taken responsibility for any shortcomings of whatever I am in charge of and used them to help those people grow.

Arrogant as it may sound, I do not believe I need to reflect upon the meaning of leadership. I know what it is, and I know that I am a leader.

Judgment

Intelligence.

It has replaced physical prowess as the key determining factor of success in recent decades. Which of course begs the question, what is intelligence? There are many different views on this subject...ironic considering the sheer budget that flows into methods of ranking individuals based on this singular statistic. It could be the ability to look smart even if you're not really sure about yourself or what you're talking about, or the practical application of what you know to real life, or a person taking what they know, no matter how much or how little, and using that to help others, or being able to get as far to the line as possible but knowing when to not cross it, or even simply logic, or IQ, or memorial capacity, or pattern recognition, or (as the dictionary puts it) the capacity to learn.

Do any of those definitions (from different people, I might add) hold merit? Perhaps all, perhaps none. We go around the block on a daily basis constantly judging other people's intelligence, or lack thereof. Do we use the preceding paragraph as the criteria in our judgments? I'm guessing no. Many would use an unconscious comparison to themselves, thinking "Ha, I'd never do that," or something to the effect, or merely cite a disagreement as proof of stupidity. People naturally favor those they agree with, but there is a line, whereupon the crossing crosses into ridiculousness. Think about it. That block is not nearly everything, but skim over it again. Do you match every part?

Now, look at that. A bit of a handful, eh? You'd better have been paying attention, as you only have a handful of opportunities to prove to the world that you are a lower numerical value than everyone else. You judge people, right? They judge you too.

Endless Waltz

We study, to make acceptable grades. We endeavor, to make an acceptable college. We study again, to make acceptable wages.

So we can afford for our children to do the same thing.

Over, and over, and over.

How did this happen? Aren't we worth more than a numerical value? Isn't it worth doing something?

Or is the world really over when you get an 89 in Advanced Aerospace Engineering?

Roughing It Like Diamonds

This world is a beach.

The people, its sand.

Some are just there to hold the others up, some get to the top only to be stepped on, some get washed away into the ocean only to return to the masses. And some, rather unfairly, get scooped, burnt, and transformed into glass. Sometimes beautiful, and sometimes not. Of course, there are the rare few 'diamonds in the rough', but what's the point of that? No one wants a diamond the size of a grain of sand. You can't even always tell the difference.

Then there's the sand that ends up in unfortunate places.



The point of this? Sand puts up with all this garbage. So can you.

Soap Suds

It's funny, yet horrifying, when you realize just how corruptible humans are.

cor-rupt:
To change the original form of

We start at the very lowest level, or rather, that of a baby. The one being that is universally agreed to be pure, at least in some circles. The inconsistency of this has been noted. But small children are the symbol of innocence, correct? And small children, being small children, are very susceptible to corruption, whether it be for better or worse. Can someone be tainted for the better? Of course. That's what the bad guys say.

What are the virtues of virtue, exactly? A ticket through the Pearly Gates, certainly, but not everyone believes in that. What else? The respect of anyone good enough to recognize your inherent good, probably. Maybe a sense of selflessness in yourself, and a warm feeling as accompaniment. More than likely the false sense of superiority that some Chri-...people seem to have. And karmic gratification. Of course, you also get to stay out of prison, you goodie-two-shoes, you.

Good of being bad? Two words: street smart. Plus little to no restrictions on said street, really. A sort of confidence, too. You're bad-a, if video games have a say. Karmic retribution applies, but why sweat the small stuff, right? It just feels good, you baaaaad boy.

Don't drop the soap though...

Technicalities

What would you if you could do anything?




















Oh, wait. *laughs out loud* You already can.

Twisted Stars

Every so often, I get the insatiable urge to walk outside in the night, sit there, and stare at the stars.

A slight monkeywrench being the fact that I live in a suburban area, well equipped with all manner of lights to better ensure the safety of its inhabitants. Thank God the moon is bright enough to overpower our fear-warders, but that's another story.

I live in an area armed to the teeth with darkness slayers, light bringers, and safety protocols because what we can't see must be bad. So we must see it. See what? There's nothing to see in the light.

There's nothing to see in the dark? The sky begs to differ. Your imagination too. Big kids grow out of fearing that which bumps in the night, right? So why all the light for the sake of our sight? Bloody blight.

If light is order and darkness is chaos, I think the scale may be a bit unbalanced.

Car accidents? Foo.

Mum

To see what cannot be seen, one must be unable to see what can.

Little Rhia understands this, do you? Do I?

Can't say.

Another Comparison From Twit

Life is like a roller coaster.

There's ups and downs and loop-the-loops and spirals and slows and fasts and sometimes, you just feel like you're upside down.

And you know that the worst parts always feel the longest, but they don't actually last that long, and before you know it, you're up again.

The throwing up part? You're probably just drunk.

Love, Actually...

Love.

I have stated two times that I have been in it. The first time I realized I was wrong soon after, and the second time I was told I was wrong immediately after saying it. After reflecting upon both incidents, I have to conclude that I was a fool both times, though the second time is much more bittersweet and the first is just a bad memory.

So, obviously, I don't want to make that mistake again. But what is love? A feeling, obviously...

Feeling like you'd do anything for someone no matter what, feeling like you'd rush to their side at a moment's notice no matter what, feeling like you'd only take the bullet if there was no other option since death would hurt them too no matter what, feeling completely at ease and able to trust them with anything no matter what, feeling like nothing matters except that someone no matter what, and thinking about them all night and day..even when you don't want to....

Love's actually not that complicated...right?

Joke's On Us

It's funny.

What is order? What is chaos? Why is it that order has such a...nicer ring to it? What else is order..besides itself? Rigidity, stability, steadfastness, predictability, stubbornness, construction, conservatism, restriction? Order...always in the light of our minds, right? Being proper and all that nonsense...being polite at the very least too, I suppose.

Chaos...we humans of the world feel squeamish at the mere mention, don't we? Pardon, the orderly peoples at any rate. Others thrive on chaos, and are consequently admonished for it. Wild, destruction, liberalism, interpretation, imagination, randomosity, distractions, freedom? Could not this all be what chaos is? Such a dark connotation...but what is darkness? Not something to be feared...or hated...right?

Of course, the real joke is that they define each other. Without one, the other isn't even itself anymore. Go ahead, dance a chaotic dance under the order of the stars...and remember nothing is futile.

Sigh...Teenagers

The teenage specimen never ceases to amaze me. What other life form tries so fervently to act as an adult, and sometimes even looks like an adult, but can still retain a mind even more immature than a child's? Maybe that's too pessimistic of me. Maybe a little high and mighty, seeing as I'm a teen myself. But...

I like to think that I put others before myself.

I like to think that I'm not the center of the world.

I like to think that other people's opinions are not said world.

I'm not (the) one to say if what I think is right or not, but I know that the rose-tinted glasses have long since come off; it's hard not to notice things. How we talk behind everyone's back. What we say for no reason. What we do for no reason. What we don't do...for no reason. A guy I know said this, and I've already agreed with this forever, but I don't understand why anyone could ever think it is a good idea to hurt someone. Yet teenagers continue to commit crimes against humanity daily. It's not really a question of who's doing the backstabbing, but how deep they decide to push it in, purely on whim. And how rarely the salve of honesty is ever applied. What really bothers me though, is how little any of us actually stop and think. Think about just what the hell we're doing to ourselves. Oh, which reminds me of a more minor point: silly teens curse far too often for it to ever be taken seriously, right?

I know I'm being too pessimistic, but at the same time, I can't honestly say that I can comprehend all of this. I've begun to pride myself on being a very good judge of character, albeit unconsciously it seems. Out of all the friends I've made and people that I've allowed myself to get close to at all, I've only made the wrong choice once, and she doesn't even know it. Fitting though, in that she happens to epitomize most of my grievances with this troublesome, hormonal demographic.

However, for the sake of not beginning and ending on a negative note...again, here's something positive. Never doubt the capacity of a teenager. Capacity for anything. For all our inherent foolishness, we're capable of much more than we ever get credit for. Capable, perfectly, of that crisis-averting thought, that deep thought, always slowing things down. And capable also of the cure for this steaming pile of...yeah. Capable of love.

That's all that really matters, isn't it?

On Leadership

What is a leader, exactly? One who leads, presumably. Right? One who ceaselessly toils in the line of duty, neglecting personal desires simply for the sake of those one leads, right? One who insists on not turning in a completely generic piece of drivel, not on the off-chance that the piece of drivel will actually be read, but because drivel, in and of itself, is silly. Surely not one who looks up the biggest, fanciest words to include in their drivel, on the off-chance that it is actually read. One who has no concept of free time, because the word free has been replaced by band.

One who stops citing ridiculous examples because they make him or her feel ridiculous.

Seriously though, leadership is not to be taken lightly. It's not some natural-born right, or just another reference for a resume, it's a privilege that, honestly, shouldn't be taken lightly. It's for people that understand the difference between being too stiff and not quite stiff enough, and can easily toe that line appropriately. But more importantly, it's for people that can get other people to follow them. Understanding the people they lead, that's key. Some of the greatest leaders in history have also been the most charismatic in history, but most, inevitably, put themselves before their followers. Many still do. The natural-born leaders are just as prone to falling apart as the uneasy. But that's not the point, is it? The point is for the leader to be there when others fall apart, and to put them back together. To lead, if you will, the whole, and prevent it from falling apart. To build such an atmosphere that, even if something does fall apart, it doesn't get anyone down. Upward thinking. Positive thinking. The kind of thinking that gets you places.

That's what a leader is.

Chains

Recently, I got to thinking about something. Not to say that I'm not normally thinking about something. Heck, it usually takes me at least half an hour to fall asleep every night cause my mind won't calm down and go to sleep. Anyway, I was thinking (and still am) about a single imperfection of the world. Just one. One that trumps all others (and boy are there others). Now I may be wrong, and I already know that some disagree, but the conclusion I arrived at was pretty simple.

There's too much hatred in the world.

Now there are other extremely negative emotions. Dante has seen to it that we are very familiar with them. Lust, Pride, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, and Envy. But these are base sins, an inherent part of every human being. Everyone, from the most warped psychopath to the most reverent priest, has felt at least one of these slithering beasties wrap a tendril around their beating heart. They are just as much a part of you as Honor, Faith, Compassion, Charity, Passion, Trust, and Love. Hatred, however, exists outside these. He does not have a seat at the central table. He is born like an innocent little scrape, nothing anyone thinks very much of. Time then passes, and the tiny wound slowly festers and becomes infected. More time passes, and eventually even the mightiest resistance will crumble to the disease.

Initial sin, or its more worldly counterpart of crime for the less religiously inclined, will almost always come to be as a result of the involvement of one of the cardinal Sins, but will almost always result in some form of hatred. Just like my English teachers would probably 'hate' me for writing such a wordy sentence. See, Hatred is only brought about by other actions. But what about after that? The hatred is now out in the world, just sitting there, and gets a little lonely. So it strives for more hatred. And more. Before we know it, an eternal chain is choking the world.

The natural reaction to hatred is obvious. Some may say that hate is too strong a word, but we all know the feeling, regardless of depth. But stop for a moment, and think. What would happen if we chose the unnatural reaction? As humans, we're all about doing the unnatural anyway, right? Don't give hateful acts a hateful response. I'm not saying everything should be forgiven, far from that, but we have the strength to bear it in all it's unfairness. Don't think about an eye for an eye or vengeance or any of that silly mishmash. Think about how you felt, and still feel, and think about keeping others from feeling that way. This chain may reach through the ages, adding links to itself by the hour, but it can still be broken, and that's exactly what I intend to do.

[vent]

How often do we stop to consider just what it is we are doing?

This entry merits a change in perspective. Today and yesterday in my English class, there they were: the precious little bundles of potential, sitting at their desks, reviewing in preparation for the writing portion of the Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills. They, or rather we, were going over what to do and what not to do, and thusly scanning our curious eyes over past answers to the "thought-provoking" essay questions. The quality of any given answer is ranked on a scale of 0 to 4, with a 0 being the lowest. Feeding our memories with ill-given responses is all well and good

I want to stop writing this.

Someone neglects to provide any evidence. Laughter. Someone misspells the word "beast". More laughter. Someone believes that a woman with multiple sclerosis hiked the Himalayas. The room continues to echo. Now, granted, there are always going to be people who don't care, who refuse to care. But then too are the children who try, try with all their mind and might, and still come up short. And we respond to their so-called feeble attempts with laughter. Are these people in the room with us? No. Are they aware that their best efforts are being thrown on stage before a storm of putrid tomatoes, only to be ripped apart by fools who take their gold for granted? No. Does that make it right? You can try to justify yourself...you can try to say that you're only making fun of the writing and not the person, but then you aren't only scorning their work, but their very way of thinking.

I am in no position to say anything. I laughed too. I can try to justify myself by saying I didn't laugh as long or as often, but that is no excuse (yes, I'm perfectly aware of how self-gratifying that sounds). But consider the position of the hypocrite. Is it not still better to try goodness only half the time, than bad forever?

Do you feel anything, as these words pass from my keyboard to your screen? Do you feel...bad, now that I've brought this to your attention?

I shouldn't have had to.

[/vent]

Try Again? [Yes] [No]

What happens when you give up? What happens when your troops abandon that final bastion? When you stop relighting the blown out candle? A flash. The enemy rushes in. It's all over. No second chances, it's too late for that. You made the wrong decision. You lost hope, and gave up.

Why?

Giving up is for the weak. For people that fight for things they don't believe in, or just lose faith. Don't be like that. If you believe in something, it's always worth fighting for. Always. You wouldn't believe in something not worth fighting for. So don't give up. You're better than that.

There's no such thing as not being "good" enough, or "smart" enough, or "cute" enough, or "strong" enough. That's what people say when they give up. When they can't see that there is always a way. Are you like that? Are you good enough?

That's what I thought. Now put another quarter in, kid. It's game time.

Finding It

Where do I want to be in twenty years?

Where do I want to be in ten?

How about five?

Two years?

Just one?

Where do I want to be in six months?

Or three.

Or one.

Where do I want to be in a week?

Tomorrow?



Happy.

Isn't that all that matters?

Is this naive?

I'll just make my own Neverland, but I won't do it alone.

The Simple Truth

It is not enough to simply say. It is not enough to simply hear. It is not enough to simply see...no, not even enough to simply do. One must go further, beyond the mere saying, or hearing, or seeing, and even the doing, and try to feel. Feel...with the heart. Cliché, to be sure, but no human being ever got anywhere by simply doing. Or rather, no human being was ever happy. Isn't that what really counts? A man can do any number of bodily exercises, and do repetition after burning repetition, but unless he stops to feel, he will only become another number on the charts of modern life. Number One, perhaps, but a number nonetheless. A woman can do all manner of mathematical calculations, and quickly rise up the monetary chain, but unless she stops to feel, the countless, countless numerals are empty. A child can achieve the very greatest of results, on a scale of zero to a hundred, becoming the envy of the crowd and the apple of his parents' eyes...but at the end of all that labor, tedium, and terrible pressure, the child is still but a number, without feeling. Without the feeling of that blazing fire burning in his belly, there can be nothing beyond the doing. But, should even the smallest of sparks fall into a kindling heart, then the smallest of lights will appear, and from that smallest of lights, the smallest of flowers will bloom. With that, the path will not quite be the smallest of paths any longer.

It's the simple truth, it is.