Sometimes, life is frustrating. Sometimes, it throws circumstances, situations, emotions, at us that aren't always the ones we want. There are things we have to do for life. We have to sacrifice things, feel betrayed, do things we don't want, all for the sake of the greater good.

The greater good. At times, it feels as though we sacrifice too much for the greater good. Other times, there should be more.

But what that balance is, it's hard to know.





For the greater good, when is there too much sacrifice, and when is there not enough?

I was walking to Wallace this morning, going up a flight of stairs to turn in my English paper.

Above me, coming down the stairs, was a cowboy. But not just any cowboy. He's the Blind Cowboy. I've seen him on campus several times, striding carefully with his shooter stick, as they are called. He wears Lee Jeans, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat. I smile every time I see him, not because I laugh at him or mock him, but because I think him a wonderful man.

He sings. Country songs. I've heard him singing as I pass him. He has a nice voice.

However, today, there was no singing, and he looked like he was in a hurry, trying to get down the stairs as quickly as possible. He tripped a couple stairs from passing me, and I launched myself up the last stairs and steadied him. He smiled at me, and looked me in eye, so I don't think he's totally blind. I assume he can see only inches in front of his face. He said, "Thank you, that was very kind." I told him it was nothing, patted him on the shoulder, and went on my way.

I feel bad for this Blind Cowboy, but he seems happy enough.

So in all actual reality, I should be grateful I can still see. I should be grateful that I can live and work and play freely. I should be happier, because at least I'm healthy and alive. At least I have a good life, no matter how hard it gets sometimes.

And I am.

Because a Blind Cowboy tripped on the stairs and was happy about it.

Alicia

Silence. All there is, is silence.

I sat by the window, feeling rather than hearing the gentle hum of the florescent lights above me. I watched as the wind tossed the branches of the trees outside like a dog with a chew toy. Back and forth, side to side, the bare claws of wood bent beneath the force of the wicked air, cold and frightful.

It was odd, a moment of fearsome deafness, watching the trees move because of something invisible without sound. Nothing.

We are like the trees, aren't we? Temporary beings that live and die. We are born as acorns, capable of living long, fruitful lives, our leaves changing every so often. We can be cut down prematurely, as many are, or dug up and loved to different location, whether that be surrounded by others, or standing alone. But no matter what, life beats against us, bending us to its will. Pulling and snapping, it can break us apart, even uproot a few. Even through the terrible winds of life, we can still carry on, can't we? When the winds go away, we are still standing, no matter how broken.

And that's all that matters, right? In the long run, we're still here and not matter what happens, we can continue, if we choose to.

If we choose to.

I saw a video today, something I didn't want to see, but it was like a car crash...I couldn't look away. A newscaster put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Certainly I've seen worst, in movies and such.

But this was real. He was a real person.

What happened to him, what disease spread within him to make him feel so alone?

As I watched the blood pour from his nose and mouth, I felt like I was going to throw up. I could not imagine not wanting to be here, no matter how hard everything gets.

Even if your life is horrible, can't you have hope that things will get better? Can't you remind yourself of the bright spots you've experienced?

Can't you remember the love?

I just saw a video, not the actual event. I didn't know this man. I didn't know his name. I didn't ever meet him.

And now, I never will.

Alicia