grunty_freak (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} grunty_freak) wrote,@ 2009-06-13 16:52:00 |
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Fuck studying
I talk to my grandfather. He inspires me to write. Like, we philosophize for hours.
Yesterday I asked him what happens to us after death.
He responded with a simple answer:
That's not the question you should be asking.
The question you should be asking is,
"Why are you asking the question?"
That got me thinking.
I used to be crazy against religion,
like to the point where I was fuck religion.
And I'd preach and preach.
Now I know that was wrong.
Not to say I'm suddenly a believer in religion,
because I'd LIKE to believe, but I just can't
bring myself to, but religion is something personal.
It shouldn't be our duty to take that away from people.
People can believe what they want to believe.
So there is no answer for my question.
Because chances are, I already know the answer.
Or rather, I need to find it for myself.
Because it's my choice.
Also in the concept of choice, I asked him what was holding society back.
The greatest thing about my grandfather is that he never answers the question directly.
He compared life to a river that needed to be crossed.
A bridge could not be built over this river.
But the objective was to reach the other side.
Most people would never approach the river.
They would stay on their own side.
They could not move forward.
However, the heroes would cross the river.
Not too hastily, for that would not be heroism, but blind stupidity.
But slowly.
For a hero took risks. To be a hero is to risk oneself, regardless of how much they hypothesize.
That's heroism.
To go against the norm.
To carve your path forward.
Some people wouldn't cross the river.
But that doesn't make them weak.
They make that conscious CHOICE.
They know the danger. And CHOOSE to not cross.
But they accept those who do cross.
However, the true weaklings are those who DO NOT CHOOSE.
They ignore the existence of the river altogether.
And they rot.
Cogs in the machine. :P
Conversations like this make me want to write.
Speaking of which....
http://searsdramafestival.com/09SouthRe
http://searsdramafestival.com/09HamWent
Enter Alice, the play I wrote and directed, KILLED at districts and regionals. Since the last time I updated we participated in the SEARS drama festival. It was truly a cathartic experience and I learned so much about myself and others. A job well done to cast and crew.
And to the people we offended, we love you. :D
Gotta get back to playwrighting then.
I'll see you, Livejournal in like another 5 months.
I talk to my grandfather. He inspires me to write. Like, we philosophize for hours.
Yesterday I asked him what happens to us after death.
He responded with a simple answer:
That's not the question you should be asking.
The question you should be asking is,
"Why are you asking the question?"
That got me thinking.
I used to be crazy against religion,
like to the point where I was fuck religion.
And I'd preach and preach.
Now I know that was wrong.
Not to say I'm suddenly a believer in religion,
because I'd LIKE to believe, but I just can't
bring myself to, but religion is something personal.
It shouldn't be our duty to take that away from people.
People can believe what they want to believe.
So there is no answer for my question.
Because chances are, I already know the answer.
Or rather, I need to find it for myself.
Because it's my choice.
Also in the concept of choice, I asked him what was holding society back.
The greatest thing about my grandfather is that he never answers the question directly.
He compared life to a river that needed to be crossed.
A bridge could not be built over this river.
But the objective was to reach the other side.
Most people would never approach the river.
They would stay on their own side.
They could not move forward.
However, the heroes would cross the river.
Not too hastily, for that would not be heroism, but blind stupidity.
But slowly.
For a hero took risks. To be a hero is to risk oneself, regardless of how much they hypothesize.
That's heroism.
To go against the norm.
To carve your path forward.
Some people wouldn't cross the river.
But that doesn't make them weak.
They make that conscious CHOICE.
They know the danger. And CHOOSE to not cross.
But they accept those who do cross.
However, the true weaklings are those who DO NOT CHOOSE.
They ignore the existence of the river altogether.
And they rot.
Cogs in the machine. :P
Conversations like this make me want to write.
Speaking of which....
http://searsdramafestival.com/09SouthRe
http://searsdramafestival.com/09HamWent
Enter Alice, the play I wrote and directed, KILLED at districts and regionals. Since the last time I updated we participated in the SEARS drama festival. It was truly a cathartic experience and I learned so much about myself and others. A job well done to cast and crew.
And to the people we offended, we love you. :D
Gotta get back to playwrighting then.
I'll see you, Livejournal in like another 5 months.
