As a "get to know you" activity in my American Heritage lab, our TA handed out differently wrapped kisses, and depending on the color we got, we had to answer a question. If I remember correctly, mine was gold, which was the question, "If you could get paid to do anything, what would you do?" My answer was nondescript and common, but I just realized I would change it.
I want to walk the world and watch people, to learn how they work. I want to ask them questions about how they think and what they would do in given situations. I want to find the sad and lonely ones, and hug them. I want to be paid to make people happy.
That is my answer.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Persistance of Thought
Whenever my head gets really going, I sometimes wonder what the point is. What good comes of this? Where is the benefit?
I'm not sure there is any at all, but wasting my time sewing my mind to the internet doesn't seem to be worse than throwing away time any other way.
I recently saw Tuesdays with Morrie, a very well done play here at BYU. It was required for my theatre class, and I'm planing on doing a write up on it as soon as I'm done with this. The story is one of a man who visits his old professor in the professor's dying days, learning much from his perspective. An emotionally-charged play, it jump-started my thoughts. I was actually quite glad because I found that I could enjoy the content of the play while analyzing the production of it simultaneously.
One of my first thoughts as I got up and left was the effect on people. We were a sizable crowd, and all of us did want to leave. The lines formed and people made their way to the exit, constantly running into the awkward junctions where who went first was rather randomized. Even so, there was no push. Consideration was given to others. I let a three person group ahead of me, yet at the next junction I went ahead of a lady. I thanked her, but wondered if that was her intention. Pondering these thoughts I considered how a crowd that had come from say, a club, would react to these circumstances.
I reached the exit and took my leave as quickly as possible, which was rather easy because I was by myself.
I pushed open the doors and stepped outside to swing music. A dance was going on, and the music was obviously swing. The tune meshed with my emotional high and a did a fast little step. Recalling Morrie, I wondered what I would miss on the brink of death. Would I wished I had danced? Acted? Loved more? Served more? Talked less? As I considered this my brain responded with it's common rhetorical question: How does considering this do anything for you? No novel thought, I realized I would continue my life and wake up tomorrow no different than I did today. "Maybe it's for the better," I pondered. "Maybe my inaction is in proportion to my lack of talent." I thought of Thursday. The day I saw the cast list my name wasn't on. Again. The day a guy sat next to me in chemistry who knew so much more than I did. He was able to figure out the answers much faster than I could. Mediocre. Normal. Negligible worth. Nothing. I chased these words around my head as I climbed up the stairs to the dorm and down the stairs to the basement. I devised to order them and string them out, letter by letter, and spin them into a blog post.
Ta-da.
I'm not sure there is any at all, but wasting my time sewing my mind to the internet doesn't seem to be worse than throwing away time any other way.
I recently saw Tuesdays with Morrie, a very well done play here at BYU. It was required for my theatre class, and I'm planing on doing a write up on it as soon as I'm done with this. The story is one of a man who visits his old professor in the professor's dying days, learning much from his perspective. An emotionally-charged play, it jump-started my thoughts. I was actually quite glad because I found that I could enjoy the content of the play while analyzing the production of it simultaneously.
One of my first thoughts as I got up and left was the effect on people. We were a sizable crowd, and all of us did want to leave. The lines formed and people made their way to the exit, constantly running into the awkward junctions where who went first was rather randomized. Even so, there was no push. Consideration was given to others. I let a three person group ahead of me, yet at the next junction I went ahead of a lady. I thanked her, but wondered if that was her intention. Pondering these thoughts I considered how a crowd that had come from say, a club, would react to these circumstances.
I reached the exit and took my leave as quickly as possible, which was rather easy because I was by myself.
I pushed open the doors and stepped outside to swing music. A dance was going on, and the music was obviously swing. The tune meshed with my emotional high and a did a fast little step. Recalling Morrie, I wondered what I would miss on the brink of death. Would I wished I had danced? Acted? Loved more? Served more? Talked less? As I considered this my brain responded with it's common rhetorical question: How does considering this do anything for you? No novel thought, I realized I would continue my life and wake up tomorrow no different than I did today. "Maybe it's for the better," I pondered. "Maybe my inaction is in proportion to my lack of talent." I thought of Thursday. The day I saw the cast list my name wasn't on. Again. The day a guy sat next to me in chemistry who knew so much more than I did. He was able to figure out the answers much faster than I could. Mediocre. Normal. Negligible worth. Nothing. I chased these words around my head as I climbed up the stairs to the dorm and down the stairs to the basement. I devised to order them and string them out, letter by letter, and spin them into a blog post.
Ta-da.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
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