Decisions, Nature, and Fear

I touched on this in my last entry, so I thought that I should elaborate on. Veronica Roth is the author of a book called "Divergent". This book is about a girl who makes tough decisions. But, that's not what I want to talk about. You see, this book isn't just a story about a girl. This book is about something much greater. Human nature and overcoming it. It talks about truth and selflessness, and how bravery is important in both. it talks about peace, and what it takes to achieve it. and it talks about loyalty and how it shapes the people we know and love.
I mean, those are beautiful ideas in my opinion. Loyalty, and honesty, and courage. Why aren't more people brave? Fear isn't even real. Its just out imagination. controlling your imagination is overcoming fear. It seems so simple, but from the number of people who have accomplished this, we can tell that it's anything but simple.
And why aren't more people honest? The world would be much simpler, wouldn't it?

Well, I guess that's the problem with the world. Dishonesty and fear.

Judgement, People, and Opinions

so, I've been thinking about judgement. judging people, mostly. if someone wears all black, you give them the label "emo" or "goth". they wear tight clothes and hang around guys, she's a "slut". I wonder sometimes, why do we listen to the stereotypes? people are layers andy layers of secrets. you can never really know a person. Veronica Roth wrote "you believe you know them [people], that you understand them, but their motives are always hidden from you, buried in their own hearts. you will never know them, but sometimes you decide to trust them anyway". people will let you down. that is one of the certainties of life. but sometimes, there are moments when people are all that's left. when they support you through the hardest times and you learn to rely on your own understanding. and, when you learn to do that, you become empowered. gifted with self-sufficiancy and independence, you seem to understand things. and people, if your lucky. I think that what stops a lot of people from doing this, from achieving this, if fear. fear of actually trusting people that you used to judge. and it really is scary. but the reward is worth it, I think.

Memories, Fading, and Photos

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about photography. There’s something kind of amazing about photos. I mean, photos capture that moment, that memory, exactly as it happens. With paintings, though they are incredibly beautiful (I love art, I’m not discounting visual art at all), they are flawed in that they can’t capture everything. A person’s memory fades so the details get lost or changed because the human mind isn’t entirely reliable. But photography… photos don’t forget the details. They remember better than we do. David Griffin said “Photography carries a power that holds up under the relentless swirl of today’s saturated media world because photographs emulate the way that our mind freezes a significant moment.” And that is beautiful...

Parents, Clay, and Destruction

Recently, I was watching a TED talks video. Sarah Kay's "If I Should Have A Daughter"
(here's the link if you want to watch it. Sarah Kay - If I Should Have A Daughter )
This video got me thinking about parenting. It isn't easy, being responsible for another human being. Half the time, people can barely take care of themselves. And parents, through an infinite number of possibilities, are now responsible for making sure that this little life is worth something. They mold and shape this little life... But sometimes it goes wrong. People are obsessed with making "mini-me's". There is a sort of satisfaction in enforcing your beliefs on other people. Maybe that’s why there are parents that push their beliefs too hard on their children. They want the kids to be just like them. And not just their beliefs. They just push their children to hard in general. And maybe they think their doing right and helping them, but they are ruining any sort of future relationship with their child.
If you push a person hard enough, they’re going to break. Parents, for the sake of reaching perfection (or as close as their going to get) don’t see it when their child is breaking.
But maybe it goes farther than that. Maybe they want their child to break… but that’s wandering into the realm of abuse. And I, myself, have wondered what drives a parent to do that to their child. The mother, in the course of her pregnancy, hormonally connects with the fetus. But, in stereotypical cases, it’s the father that initiates the violence.
Anger management problems, chemical imbalance, emotional instability, guilt, remorse, hatred… the list of reasons goes on and on.

And through all this, I think of the words of Sarah Kay… “Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal.” And that is probably the truest thing that I’ve ever heard. I, personally, am one of those people who want to help everyone I see. I get to know people and I learn about all the pain they’ve been through and all I want to do is wrap my arms around them and erase all the horrible things that happened.
Who knows… Maybe the world will get better… I'm optimistic.

“you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more."

New Hopes, New Hobbies, and Revelations.

So, this is new for me. Blogging, I mean. It's something that a friend suggested to me. And if I'm being honest, I'm not sure why she suggested it. But, here it is. Hopefully, with time, this blog will actually be worth reading. Maybe people will agree with my opinions, appreciate my words. Or, maybe they won't. Maybe, they will disagree with me. They will argue with me, but even that would make me happy. Because I effected them somehow, I made them think. Made them passionate about something that they stand for. That's all I can ask for.

So last year, I was given an assignment. Write a story in 300 words. Shave away the unnecessary, the unwanted, the to-complicated. And so, I wrote a story about human trafficking.
Now, before you read the story, know that Brady Dennnis was the inspiration for the assignment. He writes on everyday events, on things that we see, but refuse to acknowledge. The topic that I chose to write on was human trafficking. And now, I give this to you to read. Maybe it will speak to you.

The girl behind the curtain

She made her breathing even, pretending to be asleep. She faced the wall as the guard passed her cell. His shadow lingered. He stopped and she felt him gazing into her room with evil eyes. Then he moved on. Tears burn her eyes as thoughts race through her brain. She hates this place…

            She’s surrounded by solitude.

She rolls over in her cot and looks through the curtain to the cell on the other side of the hall. The girl there had been brought in about two weeks ago. Like some of the others, she had been drugged. She lay there, asleep for the first time since she got here. The fear kept her up in the beginning, like everyone here. Her eyes flickered to the paper attached to the front of her curtain.

Her price tag.

Every few days, men would walk through the hallway of this place. Never the same man though.  They were always different, but always the same. Arrogant, rich, evil… they took advantage of people. They were demons in Hell. She is in Hell.

Through the night, she hears the screams of those poor souls who are being tortured. The tears overflow as she thinks of the girl that was brought in yesterday. She couldn’t have been more than seven. The way the men here are… she wouldn’t make it past ten.

Suddenly, she hears laughter. Deep, loud, terrifying.

She shifts, curling into herself. She turns her back to them, huddling in the corner, hiding the best she can. As the voices approach, she prays to whoever will listen. She begs and pleads. Her eyes squeeze shut as the fear shakes her. The curtain is yanked open. Her prayers fall on deaf ears.

“I want that one.”

This is what it is to be trafficked.

Editor’s note: 300 words present glimpses of events that happen every day that often go unnoticed.