Streams of thoughts... by L. R. Garrison (best e book reader .txt) 📖

November 2, 2009
The Path Not Taken


I walked the same path all the way up until I graduated from high school. I made it there with minor stumbles. With the diploma in my hand, another path opened in front of me. So I began to walk that path, afraid and confident at the same time. As I walked I saw people applauding me while others sneered, wishing that I would fall. I waved at them, nodded my head and kept walking. Then my brother was killed, and I suddenly fell down. Not only did I fall, but the ground in which I fell against turned into quicksand and I began to become absorbed into it. Sinking into it, I could see the faces of everyone’s momentary sadness. A few hands appeared to me out of sympathy, but weren’t genuine because as soon as I grabbed for them, they removed their hands, and the other hands just let go.

Absorbed almost completely, I forced one hand out and gripped the solid ground. And with that hand I held onto it until I was able to get my other hand free. Then slowly but surely I climbed out of the quicksand. I stood up and saw an image of my brother over me. And I started walking again. And when I told people I thought I could trust that I took an interest in women, only a couple held it in confidence while the others rushed off to announce it to the world without my approval, all the while hoping that I fall down again. I stumbled but I kept walking on. I walked and clutched the degree in my hands with honor. People looked at me with shock. Other shook their heads and walked away. Then I heard this loud applause, like I was receiving a standing ovation, and I bowed.

When I lifted up my head, a staircase unfolded in front of my eyes. As I began to walk up the stairs a few dark doors appeared on the sides of me, and as soon as I walked over to one, a sign glowed above it that read “No Experience: No Job.” Then as I looked around, they all read the same sign. The people that sneered at me from the beginning appeared, relishing the sight. As I tried to walk up the stairs I tripped and almost fell down them. They started to laugh. I looked at them and then looked around me. Somewhere I had gotten lost. The room darkened and I couldn’t see anymore. So I just sat there on the stairs, sat there for two years, listening to them laughing at me. Then I heard someone talking to me, and the person wouldn’t stop talking. I couldn’t understand what the person was saying to me. I couldn’t hear what the person was saying until I heard myself say it, and believed it. I stood up again and the room became lighter. And those that were laughing at me stopped for a moment. I started walking back up the stairs. They began yelling at me to stop. I was one step away from the top of the staircase. Then someone raped me. I lost my balance and was hanging off the edge of the step. Instead of reaching out, people began to blow wind towards me so that I would fall again. And I did.

As I was falling back, I tumbled hard into a few stairs and damaged my head. The people that were there disappeared. The room was getting darker. I forced my hand to hang on to a step, refusing to fall all the way back down. I climbed back up the stairs, healing little by little. I never healed completely though. I grabbed that degree with faith. The stairs disappeared, and all these doors appeared around the room with different career options and varying salaries. I stood there at the center, looking at my choices, trying to decide if I want the one that makes the most money. Then I noticed that all the doors that offered the most money offered the least happiness. People began pointing to different doors while others mocked me. I looked for almost a year. Then everyone came again, all talking at once, pointing at me, some even yelling insults.

I looked at how far I’ve come. And when I looked back down at the path I took, I realized that most of the steps I took were not for me, it was to please others. To try to be an example. For people to be proud. For people to leave me alone. Then this door without a sign started to glow. It shined so bright that all the other doors began to look invisible. I started walking towards that door with confidence. Then everyone started yelling so loud it felt like my ears would bleed. I clutched my ears tightly to shut them out. They were shouting disappointments, shouting that I won’t be respected, shouting that I’m not respected. My nephew yelled that he wanted to be better than me because I don’t have a job and I live in a separate house above my mother. My grandmother yelled that people don’t respect people without a job. I heard about other family members talking about me too behind my back. One of my friends yelled “Fuck a dream!” Then I heard my mother quietly say, “Why don’t you just get a real job so that people can stop talking about you.”

I stopped and thought hard. Should I listen to them and give up what would make me happy just to please them, or should I go through that door where uncertainty lies amongst my goal. I screamed. I screamed until all the voices and faces shattered and I fell down to my knees from exhaustion. Then an image of me appeared and stood me back up again. I walked myself to the glowing door with no label. Me, my only and true supporter. I opened the door, and walked in.


October 20, 2009
Dreams...


Dreams. It seems like everyone around me has given up. The mere thought of having a dream seems ludicrous. Teachers as well as others have instilled in us to follow our dreams. Then we get older and seem to forget about them, think they’re impossible, or not even worth our time. We often hear that line that we are afraid to follow our dreams from fear of failing, and worse fear of succeeding. However, no matter how many times I hear that line, it never becomes untrue. I find myself surrounded by those who have given up and are just living to survive and be comfortable, but I want more than that. If we only have one life, why live it just existing? Why not take a chance on something in your heart. Why try to live the straight and narrow, the easy path. Why not dig deep inside yourself and remember that dream that you had when you were a child and just do it. It may not be easy but what really is? They say that the things that are worth having are the things that are worth fighting for. If you’re afraid of rejection, hey, you can be rejected doing the same things you do already. If you are afraid of succeeding, don’t be, because that’s what you’re striving for. In life it is true what they say when you have a dream there are going to be people that come around to tell you how foolish you are. They’ll make you seem like you’re just making excuses to not have a decent living. Don’t live by others’ standards. You know who you are and you don’t have to have the approval of others to be yourself and live out your life the way you see fit. I say to that person who has the dream to keep on dreaming, not only that, but to make it into a reality. And if you’ve heard this all before, so what, obviously you’re hearing it for a reason, and you’re going to keep hearing it until you do something about it. Don’t let excuses deter your dreams. We have them for a reason. It’s because through dreams, all things are possible. And through you they come true.


July 23, 2008
For the Love of Black Gold


Nigeria...


They say a picture says a thousand words, but you can't really understand unless you are affected. Experience watching your land destroyed, once beautiful and lush, now lush with oil. Treading through oil slicks, and spills and leaks. This black gold slipping through your toes, squishing underneath your feet.


Your daily commute outlined with pipes, a flare in your backyard that causes 24 hours of light, depriving of natural night. Light that has continued to burn for years. Watching this light, this flare, the reason in many ways why so much has disappeared. Teachers and classmates, dirt replacing grass. This desolation, this deforestation, pollution, this acid rain. Destruction of habitats, forest, animal, and marine. With all this going on, it's no wonder why water is so unclean. Pollution, bodies riddled with rashes, tumors, cancer. So much malnutrition, what is the likely answer? Pollution, with water and food so scarce, it seems like there is no likely solution, but for many women and children, their solution is prostitution.


Imagine a constant threat of out of control gas flares and bursting pipes. An image in your head that you know too well, extinguishing life. Life, degradation, a nation unraveling in this civil war because their homes and peaceful protesters are destroyed by the police and military to silence the poor. A divide and rule policy that fuels this war. It is the villagers that suffer as the money flows in, the government sits comfortably and none of which received by the poor. No compensation. Money is the issue, this liquid gold at hand. But what really is this price but a sacrifice to much of natural life, and land.


July 22, 2008
What IF...


What if someone told you that life was nothing but a game?

That you were just wondering aimlessly?

That your life really has no purpose?

How would you play?

Would you just live life to feel like it is not a game, to feel like you have a purpose?

Would you work that nine-to-five job for the rest of your life, and wait until you're 92 to enjoy that good o'l retirement?

Would you live from check to check in order to sustain your way of living?

Would you go off and explore the world?

Would you turn to a life of crime?

Would you spend the rest of your life incarcerated, or any portion of it?

Would you live that good o'l American dream with the nice house and car, children, pet, spouse, and that garden?

Would you focus on improving yourself?

Would you go out looking for love, in things, in people?

Fight wars, turn to religion and play that tug of war game?

What would you do?

If you found out that you really weren't free?

That everything is being dictated by rules (law, religion, the universe)?

That you have no control?

That you're just a