I suppose that in this day and age, following trends are akin to survival as nucular weapons are akin to winning the Iraqi war. Social teardown can arrupt from even the smallest let down in the world of fashion and behavior. As everybody who follows up on my blog knows, I can not even fathom the idea that whether or not you got your jeans from a designer store could mean so much. Beliefs and behavior seem to run the same way. The rule of most schools is that if you want to be cool, shut your brain and follow along with the latest gossip. Of course, shutting your mout might be just as popular a slogan. If your thoughts are origonal and full of soul, you might as well give up all hope of fitting in, right?
Frankly, whoever believes that might as well condem themselves to a depressing life full of unjust actions and ceaseless heartache. People were born with the power of speech for a reason, and that power should be used to its greatest advantage. Do not be afraid. I have to say that the saying, " I may not agree with what you say, but I'll fight to the death for your right to say it," holds more truth than any school fable about trends and beliefs.
Bye for now,
~ Becca
Friday, July 29, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Taking One Person's Life Away, and Yet Starting a Whole New Chapter in Another's
Death.
How often do we honestly consider what that word can mean?
Normally, pain, sorrow, depression, and emptyness.. are the result of having a loved one taken away from you... but in that same line of emotions, determination, pride, and longing for redemption can find a way to blossum.
Today, I met a person who seemed to be feeling just that. His name was Ryan, and he was so self possesed by the thought of redemption, that he has decided to put himself on the line to honor his deceased father. Let me tell you the story that he told me:
Mr. Davis was always in the light of the family as far as war stories go. Never was one of his tales ignored niether were they taken lightly. They could not be. Each one provided the deep sorrow of losing a friend as well as the brutality that leaves war veterans shaking their heads in utter pain. He was a ranger, serving in the army for well over ten years. Although Ryan was only a little tyke at the time, he still recalls the aura of facination and fear that each story left behind.........
... When Ryan was only nine years old, he and his family waited merrily at home for Mr. Davis's most recent return from duty. Days went by, and as the family sat looking out the window, expecting him to walk up the steps any second, the phone rang... Ryan still remembers as his mother picked up the phone and heard Mr. Davis's brother and corperal Timothy on the phone. " I could hear him crying on the other side of the phone; the suspense was so thick," recalls Ryan. Timothy choked on his own words as he explained to Ryan's mother the RPG that blew Mr. Davis's life away...
Four years later, Ryan has taken it upon himself to head into the army and obtain redemption for his father. From the one hour that I spent talking with him, I've been able to come to the conclusion that this is his lifetime goal: Going after the terrorists that killed his father.
I've never seen somebody so determend to pay retribution to the murderers that stole his father, his hero. And I will never forget Ryan Davis.
How often do we honestly consider what that word can mean?
Normally, pain, sorrow, depression, and emptyness.. are the result of having a loved one taken away from you... but in that same line of emotions, determination, pride, and longing for redemption can find a way to blossum.
Today, I met a person who seemed to be feeling just that. His name was Ryan, and he was so self possesed by the thought of redemption, that he has decided to put himself on the line to honor his deceased father. Let me tell you the story that he told me:
Mr. Davis was always in the light of the family as far as war stories go. Never was one of his tales ignored niether were they taken lightly. They could not be. Each one provided the deep sorrow of losing a friend as well as the brutality that leaves war veterans shaking their heads in utter pain. He was a ranger, serving in the army for well over ten years. Although Ryan was only a little tyke at the time, he still recalls the aura of facination and fear that each story left behind.........
... When Ryan was only nine years old, he and his family waited merrily at home for Mr. Davis's most recent return from duty. Days went by, and as the family sat looking out the window, expecting him to walk up the steps any second, the phone rang... Ryan still remembers as his mother picked up the phone and heard Mr. Davis's brother and corperal Timothy on the phone. " I could hear him crying on the other side of the phone; the suspense was so thick," recalls Ryan. Timothy choked on his own words as he explained to Ryan's mother the RPG that blew Mr. Davis's life away...
Four years later, Ryan has taken it upon himself to head into the army and obtain redemption for his father. From the one hour that I spent talking with him, I've been able to come to the conclusion that this is his lifetime goal: Going after the terrorists that killed his father.
I've never seen somebody so determend to pay retribution to the murderers that stole his father, his hero. And I will never forget Ryan Davis.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Shroud of a Storm
I guess life is like the night-time sky... You never know what it will throw at you. As I sit here and look up, I see the flickering form of a storm sliding away. Lightning thrashes the clouds and thunder anounces the battle taking place up in the sky. As each flash of lightning leaps across the sky, I can not help but to think that they bear the likeness of truths. Each one showing its self to breifly that if you blink, you could miss it.
The thunder takes a whole different point, angry rummbles seem to boom out, "Listen to me, I am important!" As the thunder compliments lightning, rumer compliments truth. They all throw themselves out there, each claiming to be the best, while truth peeks through the backround, displaying a beauty yet to be matched by juicy gossip or boisterous noises.
It is easy to say which sounds brighter and which sounds more crude, but for the people who are blind to the truth, gossip rings like thunder.
The thunder takes a whole different point, angry rummbles seem to boom out, "Listen to me, I am important!" As the thunder compliments lightning, rumer compliments truth. They all throw themselves out there, each claiming to be the best, while truth peeks through the backround, displaying a beauty yet to be matched by juicy gossip or boisterous noises.
It is easy to say which sounds brighter and which sounds more crude, but for the people who are blind to the truth, gossip rings like thunder.
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