Becoming The Overman

I have entered all of my vital and personal statistics into a computer system which has told me the day which I am most likely to die on. This procedure, of course, reminds me very much of the theoretical science of psychohistory, first proposed by Isaac Asimov in his book "Foundation", which uses statistical and probability equations mixed with current knowledge of the now to descibe, with incredible acurracy, the probability of events to take place in the future. Things such as the fall of an economy are very easy to calculate, but singular humans, who are different matters altogether, cannot as easily be plugged into the psychohistoric equations. These reasons for this are several, which I would rather you figure out on your own than me tell you. However, in case you simply were curious of when to say your goodbyes to me, so when will I be leaving this world?

Tuesday, December 10th 2030 at the tender age of 43.

On that day you will most likely die from:
------------- Heart attack (25%)
------ Drowning (7%)
---- "Cleaning your Rifle" (4%)
-- Alien Abduction (2%)

However, curiosity got the best of me and I began to wonder, what if I were the most unhealthy, diseased, risk-taking man in the universe? When would I die? I mean, if a little heart condition knocks off an estimated 20 years off my life, how bad could I get. So, I took the test again, and this time I was sick...and I mean sick.

I told the computer I had cancer, HIV, tuberculosis, leprosy, small pox, alzheimers, pneumonia, liver scarring, schizophrenia, diabetes, heart disease, head lice, the black plague and hairy nipples (which I imagine aren't healthy). My family are alcoholic drug-abusers who can't read, and have poor penmanship, trouble sleeping, and connections with the mafia. I do everything dangerous from talking to strangers to swallowing knives while flying a plane I'll soon jump out of in a race car, all the while listening to Korn and watching South Park. Aside from those activites, I never excerise, unless sex counts, which I do more than a Tiauana hooker. I eat candy, chew bubble gum, smoke, drink, chew tobacco, do marijuana (along with every other drug I can find, which includes licking toads), and play with fire and guns. I'm a paranoid, stressed out, drug-trafficking pornstar who recently joined the Armed Services. I walk when it says "Don't Walk". I operate heavy machinery everyday. And I'm terrible at math. I'm everything no one ever wanted to be, the worst of the worst, the scum that even the scum thinks is scum. For fun I light firecrackers in my mouth and spit them out at the last second. I've had 138 sexual partners in my life, 139 unprotected (counting that one time with myself). Now when do I die? Give the the facts and don't let me down! I will die on the following date:

Monday, March 21st 2005 at the tender age of 17

What?! Today? That's impossible! Of what!

Today you will most likely die from:
-------------------------------Contagous Disease (100%)
--------------Alcoholism (47%)
-------------Cancer (46%)
----------Heart Attack (30%)

Sorry, man....

Well, I don't care! I don't believe it, and what I don't believe just doesn't happe...happe...hap...oh...my reproductive organs! They're on....fi...fi...fire! Aghhhhhghghggghhhhhhhghhghhhhhhghhhhh............crap.

You can take the Death Test, too, at http://community.sparknotes.com/sparktests/index.epl
Please enjoy, and beware your end...just don't lie; they know more than you can imagine.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 5:23 PM | Permalink | Comments

With a little bit of mischeif I got off work early to find my father, after a long day's work in his shop, slumped in the recliner, his feet up and his hat, dirty and red, pulled across his face. In the silence I snuck by and tried to write at my computer, but could not think. He awoke and asked me if I could go to the market and retrieve some milk and bread, which I agreed to without second thought. When I got back he asked me where my mother kept the old candles. I went and found one, yellow and melted, and gave it to him, which he took and placed in his pocket. He then asked if I would follow him out to the shop so that I could see what he had been doing all day. Intrigued by a new machine he had bought (which cost him seven-hundred dollars) I followed, again without second thought, assuming this was what he would show me.

As we walked the short distance from the house to the shop my assumptions were confirmed.

"Have you seen this new machine I've got?" he asked me. I had secretly snuck into his shop only the day before, looking to find the equipment to fix my bicycle, and in doing so had seen the machine. I did not want him to know this, so I lied and told him, "No."

"Well, I'm using it to mill steel in the shop," he said back to me.

"I saw the semi pull up to the house the other day," I told him, "and saw you drive out with your truck. I thought you were getting a delivery of wood, but then I saw him open the back and pull out this little crate. Heavy crate, I thought."

With that he laughed and we walked into the shop. For nearly thirty minutes he showed me how it worked, how it could cut steel within a thousandth of an inch, and what parts he needed to use it for. I was impressed, and his inginuity complemented this when he pulled the old candle from his pocket and rubbed it on the running drill-bit which rotated and cut the metal. The layer of wax, I correctly assumed, took away most of the friction of the cut, making the milling marks smoother and less noticable.

The entire time he spoke I noticed the music playing from his radio, though quiet, was not his usual country station. At first I wondered why they were playing Merle Haggard, then I noticed no commercials and that all songs were Merle Haggard. My brother must have given his a Greatest Hits CD, I thought. I was correct.

After he had properly intruduced the machine to me, he turned my attention to the music playing, which we listened to for another thirty minutes. I pulled up a chair and he brought me a Coke, and we listened to his favorite music, that which inspired him to sing and write when he was a young man like I. He marveled out loud at the inginuity of Merle Haggard, whom he referred to as "The Hag", and how he could write about anything, how he spoke the truth in his words, and how my father could have made it as well if only he had not been so cocky when he got his contract in Memphis, Tennessee for song writing. "He was my hero when I was your age," he said to me. He told me that I had the world by the balls and that he was watching me make all the same mistakes that all the other people in the world have made, even himself.

"I can't choose the path for you. Only you can do that. All I can do is show you where all the pit-falls are at and hope you believe me...but you don't."

I thought to tell him I did listen, that I did believe but that it was hard to avoid them, as most were accompanied with temptations few are stong enough to avoid. However, I have thought to tell him this on many occasions and refuse to, reminded of how those thoughts are of no concern to him. Temptation is no excuse for idiocy.

After a short while more of listening to songs, we retreated back to the house, just before it began to rain, and ate microwave-able chili from a pouch, which was quite good. I should be sleeping soon, though. Maybe I'll think of a song or two in my dreams. Maybe he will as well.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 10:52 PM | Permalink | Comments

It is in human nature for us to need justification for our actions, for us to know whether our choices were right or wrong and to know whether we should have chosen another, simpler or more complex path.

A human being has come across a problem, a conflict, and with this conflict the human being must overcome it and continue on. So, the human being asks himself, “By what means am I to overcome this conflict?” And so, the human mind follows through with hypothetical situations and circumstances attempting to find the best, most appropriate solution to the conflict. Of course, some choices may be good and moral, and others may be sinful but accommodating. In the end, the human being is successful in overcoming the conflict, but in afterthought the human being wonders, “How do I justify the things which I have done?” And the next and final thought to the human mind is justification: what is it here and where can it be found? The human mind resolves that there is only one place where this can be found, and it is in the results, the end. “The end always justifies the means,” says the human being, and he walks away and further into the plains of life.

What a pity that it is.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 11:35 PM | Permalink | Comments

It is a law that things of common nature tend to gather, surviving better in larger groups rather than on their own. For instance, the Freckled Sparrow of South Africa’s migratory patterns cause them to eventually all fly south together, until they discover that there is only one place to fly south to from South Africa, and that’s Antarctica. For this reason the Freckled Sparrow of South Africa, most notably one of the dumbest animals ever created, is soon to be extinct. I have discovered, however, that homosapiens come in many different varieties, one of which being “the stupid”, also known as “homo plumbeus”. And, luckily for me, I have been the man to discover where this immense population of creature gathers. This place is called…The Restaurant. And so, here follows some tips that I have gathered in observing closely this primitive sub-specie.

Tip #1
Before getting a job, start smoking.

You see, because cigarettes are well-known among this populace to be highly addictive, others will attempt to compensate for this addiction by allowing those affected by it to take frequent breaks in order to smoke. However, because this deadly addiction gives you the excuse to take a break, if you do not smoke you are then without excuse and therefore without break. Forever.

Tip# 2
Whenever a customer asks how long the wait is, lie.

If the wait is going to be an hour, tell them 30 minutes. If the wait is going to be 30 minutes, tell them 15 minutes. If the wait is going to be 15 minutes, tell them, "Just a few minutes." And if there is no wait, tell them about 5 minutes. The reason for the latter is that if the homo plumbeus thinks the wait will be 5 minutes and you sit them instantly, they will consider it "good service".

Tip #3
When sitting customers, vigorously apply salt and pepper.

In other words, never sit people of one certain ethnicity or race in one certain area for too long. Even if it is only fate and chance that cause this grouping to occur, the ethnic customer will, and I mean will, notice. So, scatter accordingly (salt and pepper).

Tip #4
When a customer releases gases of any sort, avoid eye contact.

The purpose of this tip is obvious...as well as just plain awkward.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 12:57 AM | Permalink | Comments

I ended my last post, "On Truth", with a poem I had written in Latin. For those of you people who read this blog (and by people I mean the one person that reads this), I shall now translate that very poem. I hope you enjoy.

In Latin:

Ea facilis amor a tibi do, mellitus pluvia.
Ego nunquam amor adeo verus tenui dolor abstulo;

Et sulum nox noctis proximus ignis lux, amor paralis noster rarus,
Cum nos poterimus exspecto et recordor, et ego causa te cantabam.

In English:

It's easy to give love to you, as sweet as honey's rain.
I never knew a love so true to take away the pain;

And every night by firelight, a love like ours was few,
When we could wait and contemplate, and I would sing to you.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 10:45 PM | Permalink | Comments

One must never commit themselves to the ideas of normality, for nothing is normal unless ignorant enough not to glimpse the truth of others, for that truth is that there is no truth; only illusions. You must first understand the illusions, then defeating them will be simple. It is only at that point, when the illusions of the others are overcome, may one see the reality of others, and thusly the true normality, normality as it should be seen, shall occur.

Truth is held deeply within each soul, like the depths of the oceans, and only by venturing inward may one see one’s own truth. Truth cannot be marginalized because truth exists uniquely only within each person, and can thusly exist only to one, and yet to everyone, because truth is not one thing but many. Truth is like the tiles of a motif; only by bringing together the many specialties and inimitabilities of the singular truths may the entirety of the picture of existence, and truth, be seen. Though one truth may seem unsightly to many, it is but a priceless piece to the splendor of the whole.

One must never believe what it is that one sees, hears, or otherwise comes to understand through mere words. Only the doer alone learns, and only through experience may one be a great being of wisdom; the key is Time. The believer of all is the ignorant of many, but the doubter of the world’s shell is the most prudent of all.

P.S. The following is a latin poem, by me:

Ea facilis amor a tibi do, mellitus pluvia.
Ego nunquam amor adeo verus tenui dolor abstulo;

Et sulum nox noctis proximus ignis lux, amor paralis noster rarus,
Cum nos poterimus exspecto et recordor, et ego causa te cantabam.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 3:15 PM | Permalink | Comments

The basis of George Lucas’ 1977 epic, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope (which was the first in a series of movies which eventually spanned six films altogether, the last of which to be released in 2005) was set with an extinct order of guardians to the government known as the “Jedi” who had long since been crushed; this “Order of the Jedi” was so definite and well-defined by Lucas that many wondered where his inspiration came from for such a powerful and judicious assemblage. The foremost group which the Jedi Order can be likened to, however, is the Japanese “Samurai”, and though there are many divergences, the parallels between the two groups is one that cannot be ignored.

Unfortunately, not much is revealed about the Jedi in A New Hope. As a matter of fact, there is only one veritable Jedi in the entire film, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who says of the Order, “For over a thousand generations, the Jedi were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic.” Also demonstrated throughout the film by Obi-Wan’s actions, it is obvious that peace was one of the strongest of the moral codes of a Jedi, as he preferred to solve problems through diplomatic, conciliatory means.

The opposite can be said of the Samurai, conversely, as the Samurai were known as warriors that obeyed only the daimyo, who then obeyed only the shogun, who was in command of all the land. In rejoinder to the Samurai’s loyalty they were given land and wealth, and in time their purpose evolved from simple tax collections for the daimyo to peacekeeping missions and military coalitions.

As stated earlier, though the differences are highly prominent, so are the similarities; both the Jedi and the Samurai are widely respected as a force for good, the Jedi through their Council and the Samurai through his own daimyo, and the main goal of both groups is to preserve order in “the system”, though the Samurai find their order more-often-than-not through chaos. Not completely pacifist himself, however, Obi-Wan is seen to have a warrior side which becomes prevalent when the part of the “conscientious observer” fails and “aggressive negations” must take place: as a skilled swordsman (like the Samurai), Obi-Wan is able to compete with Darth Vader in his final scene in the film using only his lightsaber, the weapon most predominant within the Jedi Order (just as is the daisho to the Samurai warrior, and as the blade of a daisho is hidden from view of the public by a sheath, so is the blade of the lightsaber hidden within the handle of the energy sword, and as the daisho was only to be carried by Samurai, so is the lightsaber only to be carried by verified Jedi).

Says Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Force, “It’s an energy field created by all living beings. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together.” Though the Samurai had no specified religion, the concepts of the Force developed throughout the film parallel almost directly with those of Zen Buddhism, a philosophy which every Samurai followed to the highest degree and internalized throughout their lives, more so than even a religion could be internalized; both the Samurai and the Jedi spent many years of their lives meditating at temples. Obi-Wan’s strong spiritual side can be seen in the Samurai as well; the mystical Force itself can be likened to the Japanese energy form Samurai were required to master called ki (also seen as chi), which is defined itself as “the circulating life energy that in eastern philosophy is thought to be inherent in all things”. Once again, the similarities cannot be denied.

We can even see the essence of the Samurai in the clothing worn by Obi-Wan, a layered tunic bound at the waist which is traditional Jedi attire, as well as that of the Samurai warrior.

The fall of the Jedi and the fall of the Samurai even lay on shared fields. The Samurai, who obeyed only their daimyo, were sent into isolation when the Emperor’s power destroyed their master’s existence, leaving the loyal Samurai forlorn and lost to cluster together into renegade groups of warriors that fought for their own existence as well as the knowledge of Zen Buddhism, which had begun to fade away. This is seen in A New Hope when Obi-Wan tells the tale of the Jedi, who were once powerful until they fell under the grip of the evil Empire, who left only renegade Jedi surviving, Obi-Wan being one of those lost Jedi, wandering the galaxy hoping to keep the philosophy of the Force alive, thus the title.

Even in death, the Jedi and the Samurai run together. The Samurai say of dying, “The Way of the Warrior is the resolute acceptance of death.” We see this same philosophy in Obi-Wan Kenobi in his battle against Darth Vader; he feared not death when it came to him…he faced it honestly and completely, knowing that it was not a fact in life, setting down his blade and placing the cloak atop his head, giving way with the resolute acceptance of death and therefore becoming one with the Force.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 11:06 PM | Permalink | Comments

Chapter One: So You Want to be an Astrophysicist, eh?


As you are most certainly sitting down, or standing up, or lying down, or leaning ‘cross against a nearby dumpster inside of which you found this book, you must be thinking to yourself, “Wouldn’t it be nice if I could have a time machine? Nothing special or exceptionally spectacular, heavens no, but simply an apparatus I could use without reading any complex manuals printed in exactly all the wrong languages, or reading any gratuitously long books on how and/or why I should build and use this machine. And also, I would prefer no assembly to be required, please.” Well, I would say, in any normal case, that if that is how you feel about it you might as well throw this book back in the dumpster you got it out of, but seeing as how you’re searching through dumpsters for books unwanted and lost anyway, you might as well buckle yourself in and try to enjoy the show any-hoot.

You see, let the truth be told that, no matter where you go or how hard you try or how many painstakingly long years you spend at the top of a mountain thinking about it, chances are you will never be able to create a time machine without a little bit of mental-elbow grease. However, I understand completely that most people are lacking in the mental WD-40 section of their cranial hardware store required to build a well-built time machine without that whole part about destroying the fabric of space.

This is why, through the infinite miracles of karma and fate, you have stumbled across this book, vast yet simple as it is. The point of this book ever even being written in the first place is that the author came to a conclusion early in his life that if people only looked at the world with a little more sensible and knowledgeable of eyes the world as a whole would be a better place, and that if one were to reach the world, without going hoarse from screaming, the best way to do it was through a book. However, most of the people he was trying to reach didn’t really read books of that subject anyway, and certainly would be overwhelmed by a title such as How to Build a Negative Curvature Wormhole, or The Philosophy of Physics and Time Travel. Instead, thought the author, the title had to convey that, though what the reader were about to read was complex and somewhat provocative, they, with their lacking greasiness, would be able to understand and (far more importantly) enjoy the subject. Therefore, the author of this book you hold in your hands right now decided to change the title into saying just exactly what the book was about and nothing more than that. He also decided to add the words A User Friendly Guide to the front of it. In doing this, no one who wanted to see it would miss it, and those who thought it best to miss it would possibly have a change of heart and take the all–important second glance. Apparently, he was successful, as evident by your own inner monologue reading the very words he wrote. Or maybe he’s very poor right now and is handing the book out for free to anybody who might take the time to fill his last, dying ego a bit and read it. In either case, I’m sure he’s copyrighted it by now.

Now, if you’ve really studied the cover, you will know that the author of these words is C. Nicholas Walker, a.k.a. me, a little known man with little known thoughts that apparently he thought large enough to incorporate into a large-scale publication of sorts. It is this publication that you have stumbled across, whether by accident or by librarian, and I, the author, would just like to take a moment and thank you for doing this, although it was really no effort on your part as much as it was on the parts of the universe and its incredible, unstoppable ability to make little to no sense as often as it likes.

But, going back to the point, if you wish to accomplish all of these spectacular, amazing and unbelievable feats of science, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well do ya, punk? Hopefully you do, because there isn’t a single genius in the world who lived, lives, or ever will live that didn’t rely on a little bit of luck, so even you have to. Sorry. But hey, look on the bright side: you’ve got the best book in this or any world out there on how to do it, so why don’t we get started by removing that rain cloud from your brain, you party-pooper, before you bring everybody else reading this book down, too?I think to myself about you, “So, you want to be an astrophysicist, eh?” Well, at least we know your expectations of yourself aren’t low. In point of fact, astrophysics isn’t really as difficult a field as it sounds, and most average people have the ability to do it pretty easily if the folks upstairs hadn’t of given it such a complicated name (i.e. the name of this book is simple and well-defined, and now you’re reading it!). Although the field takes quite a bit of imagination, I’m sure that everyone’s got enough of it, and if they don’t they’re stiff politicians who read The Wall Street Journal for morning-time kicks anyway. But you, you’ve got spunk and hope, and in the world or science and theories spunk and hope is a big part. That and common sense. As my father once said, “Anything that you want to do in this world is 10% actual knowledge and 90% common sense.” You’ve already got 90% of the process down. The purpose of this book is to fill in the other all-important 10% without which you would be most confused. It’s as important a difference as knowing how to use a saw and knowing how to use a saw without losing a finger: really basic but really essential to the whole process. I mean, you wouldn’t be able to play the flute or give someone a high-five or speak sign language, besides the fact that your wood would have blood on it, which nobody likes unless the wood is supposed to be red.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 5:07 PM | Permalink | Comments

I have recently been cast in a double role for our school's low-budget theatre arts performance, which will be running alongside the school's main, afterschool performance of "Oklahoma" which, for scheduling and timing reasons, I was not able to be a part of. However, since the low-budget play is rehearsed for during school hours and while I am in class, there were no troubles in me acting in it (so much so that I won two parts, one major and one minor).

The play is an unknown one called "Why the Darkness Seems So Light", and is the story of a teenager names Johnny and his friends who are undergo tremendous stresses when they witness the murder of Johnny. Very corny and awkward in some parts, the play was written in the early 90's and touches on many social issues of teenagers, including drugs, guns, alcohol, abusive parents, teenage depression, education, suicide and rape. I play Johnny, whose two favorite things in life are auto-mechanics and the saxophone; my interpretation gives him a carefree appearance and voice with his friends, but a brooklyn accent and tough-guy walk when with people he doesn't know, which leads to his eventual death. Though his actions very rarely run in one consistency, I am trying my best to take away any awkwardness of his lines, which is proving to be a challenge as the play is not written very well.

My second character comes later in the play, but is very important to the end result of the story as I play Ralph, the abusive father of Johnny's teenaged killer, whose actions cause his son to commit suicide. The only time Ralph is seen on stage is when he is an angry, wreckless drunk, so I give him actions reminiscent of Jack Nicholson's charater in "The Shining", especially near the end of the film. I enjoy the contrast in characters I play, but both part are written poorly and I attempting to compensate is difficult. But, as I have started saying, a good actor doesn't get great parts, a good actor makes them great.

Now, to get more in touch with my characters, I am going to try and master their walks. It is very rarely understood how important the walk is to a good character, and if you get his walk down pat, the rest of him comes easily. Think of it, Jack Nicholson in "The Shining", John Travolta in "Pulp Fiction" and "Saturday Night Fever". Every character has a walk, and so will mine. Johnny, because he is a teenager, has two walks because he has not developed a definite personality or identity yet, and most teenagers haven't. A carefree, almost floating walk in one moment, then a chest out big man in another. I still have to work on it, but the walks will come soon.

But no matter what, I have to keep telling myself..."A good actor doesn't get great parts, a good actor makes them great!" Hopefully I will.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 3:10 PM | Permalink | Comments

I have had a vision, and in this vision I have seen an image of things which are not yet, but shall be soon. Also in this vision I have seen a layout of sorts containing the chapter titles for my book, a philosophical novel, upon which this weblog is based. Now, for the first time in all of eternity, I give unto you my seventeen chapters, seventeen, for that is my age (an idea I borrowed from Anthony Burgess). Many novels I would like to follow this, chronicling my views from childhood to adulthood; each chapter will be an estimated ten pages in length, so please enjoy:

1. On the First Man
2. On the Spirit of the Inner Child
3. On Lost Memories of the Individual
4. On Truth
5. On Simplicity
6. On the Silent Wisdom
7. On Death, or Darkness in the Absence of Light
8. On Teaching
9. On Meditation
10. On the Destruction of Evil
11. On the Actor and the Watcher
12. On Those Great Things
13. On the Knowledge of Order Through Chaos
14. On the Mystery of Stillness
15. On the Plain of Life
16. On Dedication and Perseverance
17. On the Infinite and the Train of Light and Dark

All of these topic shall eventually be touched upon in one form or another in this weblog. I am looking forward to posting them, probably far more than any are looking forward to reading them.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 6:36 PM | Permalink | Comments

Something screams inside of me; what is that voice that I hear?

It speaks of knowledge; it craves the unknowable; it dreams for the undreamable.

Arcane is its wishes, untouchable its desire. The voice churns on a mellowed level, bellowing with a whisper that is all too often ignored. But today, today I have heard the voice, and in it I see the philosophy of a child; in its words I taste purest hope, the hope of the innocent. And so, I know that this voice, this child, is within me and is wishing to be heard, so I must give it my justice, my virtue, my honor as the man he wished not to become.

Pure is the voice. Honest, if honestly foolish, but proud with its honor. The purity of the entire universe, all things powerful and all things subtly so, creep through the voice of the child. It is a taste of desire, and with this taste I must taste more, and with this new taste I must swallow, and the desire and I shall become one and the same, a new being and a new mind, molding into one. The next step is in my sights, like an island on the horizon from oceans where water was all I see, and this island feels like home. The home of the child within, not to be unseen.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 10:25 AM | Permalink | Comments

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"
Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.

-Pope Alexander

They say that you should not internalize powerful emotions, as they will eventually build up like freezing water and break their container, in this case the human mind. But it is my belief that it is the terrible times in life that mold our personality above all others, nay, that those are the only times that mold our personality. Never has the thought came to be that I learned a lesson from a day of ease and perfection in happenings. Never has the thought came to be that I was a stronger, better person who made better decisions through a day without conflict or troubles. It is the terrible times that build us, the terrible times that bind us, and the terrible times that force us to change. This change is instinctual; since the dawn of man we have evolved in response to those things which occur around us and are not of our control. Mankind wishes to change, and must always be changing; to release uncontrollably powerful emotions is to find and equalibrium between the internal and the external, and therefore attempting to remain constant, promoting homogeny and uniformity, which in their very natures are anti-human.

It is the troubles in time that mold us into who we are and make us human, make us individuals, and individuality is one of the most important things that exist in the personal universe.

Posted by C. Nicholas Walker at 9:09 PM | Permalink | Comments