Friday, April 24, 2009

Honesty is the best policy...

...I think not. For years, I’ve believed in that statement and thought of it as some sort of great motto everyone should believe in. Yet, it’s turned out to hurt me more than do any good. People don’t want to hear the truth; they want to hear fabricated, candy-coated lies so they can feel ‘good’ about themselves. In friendships, you often take an unwritten and unspoken oath of this so called pledge of ‘honesty’ and to some, less than others, know that it complies to them at all times. They do their very best to be truthful, to be ‘honest’. Unfortunately, since you’ve taken this oath, you have to be notified of some of the unspoken rules:

1) Always be truthful

2) Be honest when one is questioning the other to how their appearance looks

3) Never be truthful in situations that actually matter, because frankly people don’t want to hear it.

4) Always be truthful

It’s funny how when things actually matter, human beings decide to shut themselves from the truth. Is it because they are too blindsided by the false impression of their own reality? Or is it because they are too afraid to face the truth, simplify because of the fact that they are cowards.

I’ve dwelled upon this question for quite a while now and seem to not be able to come to a clear conclusion. Maybe it’s because, somewhere in my sub conscience, I am one of those who like to hear these ‘candy-coated’ lies. Maybe it is human nature that drives us to want to shield ourselves from the truth, from the honesty, because the corruption of this world has led us into pure denial.

Those who think it is permissible to tell white lies soon grow color-blind.~Austin O'Malley

Thursday, April 23, 2009

The meaning of life...

A letter we had to write for class.


Dear Grandma,

How are you? I am good. I miss you a lot. Yesterday I was sitting by the big pear tree on the hill with Torrie, and she asked me why we were here. I said to her that we were here because; we were hiding from Adam who was trying to give us cooties. Then she said no, she didn’t ask why we were by the pear tree. She meant, why we were here... alive. I said to her that I didn’t know, but my grandma would because she’s so old and she knows everything. So grandma, why are we here? What is the meaning of life?

Love Sydney.

I read this last letter from Sydney with great difficulty. It’s been almost 23 years since her death. She would have been 29 years old this coming Friday. I took the letter and gently smoothed it with my rough wrinkled hands, as the tears slowly tumbled down my face. “What is the meaning of life?” she asked. Such a tender age and the mind of a philosopher. I had no idea how to answer it and now that I do, she is no longer here amongst us...

All my life I’ve tried to run away from the people who love me the most. And when time came they realized it and stopped chasing me. To me they were like parasites, trying to make me ill. I thought that they were trying to bring me down. So, I ran. I knew that if I had stayed amongst them I would suffocate and eventually witness my own death. I set out on my great expedition in the hope of trying to find some meaning to my pity life. As I searched for the means of my own existence, I had realized that the meaning of life is searching for the meaning. It was impossible! How could that be?, I would think to myself. What would this search bring me to? However, between all those questions, all I could think about was them.

I decided to return back home, though it was too late. They were all gone, just like I had left them before. Years had passed, and my search for them grew more and more restless. They were nowhere to be found. That’s when it hit me. The meaning of life is not searching for the meaning, but to realize that the meaning lies within the people surrounding you. Without them you are nothing but a lifeless body, moving through the bustling crowds of the world. That is what I was, that is what I am...shattered and lifeless.

If Sydney were to read this, she would have seen a different side of her Grandma. She would have grown up surrounding herself with people who love her. If Sydney were to read this, she would know what the true meaning of life is.


Rose- Amber Edwards