One thing that has always bothered me was the thought of fate. Everyone likes to throw the word "fate" around when describing human existence. What is our fate as humans? What does fate hold in store for us? Yet, do people really understand what the word fate means? The actual thought of fate existing, basically, means that we have no control or hold over our own lives. Now I cannot speak for you, but this really deters me from having a pleasant thought over my existence. If you are confused right now, just follow me for a bit as my thought process is laid out.
Now imagine the last decision you made. Does not matter how trivial or important it was, as long as you had to decide between two, or more, outcomes. Got it? Now imagine that no matter what you thought to try and determine the outcome, it was already chosen for you. It was fated out for you since the dawn of time. You were destined to make that decision at that point in your life and no matter how much thought you put into it, it was out of your hands. Which brings another thought to mind. What if we try and work against fate? Does that mean we were fated to work against fate itself and thus completing fates grand plan? Very intriguing.
Now, again, I cannot speak for you, but I am torn about this thought. I know I previously stated that it makes me not so pleasant about my existence, yet at the same time it gives me some security. It means that no matter what I try and do I cannot run away from my fate. Whatever it is I am destined for, I must complete. Again not a pleasant thought since, in theory, we cannot do what we actually want to do. Yet, what if what we actually want to do is exactly what fate has planned for us? Thus it contains a subtle sense of safety and security. An unpleasant, safe, and complete existence that was determined before we ever were a thought in our parents minds. But, this is not what I believe, so then I suppose life is pleasant, chaotic, and incomplete. At least for me it is anyways. You? Well, I suppose only time will determine what you think, unless it's already destined what you think. Pleasant hunting.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Black and White 3: The Blog
Well I was wandering around my school today and felt the need to write, the only problem was I had no idea what to write about. I found the only answer to the solution was to ask a complete stranger and see what they thought an interesting topic would be. The answer? A monochromatic existence. Now at first this sounds like a very complicated topic of choice, I mean that is a large scientific word, yet in reality it simply means to live in a black and white world. At least that is what wikipedia told me. Anyways, the thought of living in a black and white world brings only one thought to my mind, indifferent.
Imagine living in a world where the only "colors" that can be perceived by the human eyes are black and white, maybe some shades of gray in there as filler. Would our lives really be any different from what they are now? Sure, the aesthetic qualities of our art we produce may be a little lackluster, but can we actually say that? All we know are the shades that the colors of black and white show us, thus our art in theory would be of the same quality we now produce. We just would be ignorant and naive to the fact that the actual color spectrum did not exist to us. Sure if all of a sudden we lost our ability to observe colors and were stuck in a monochromatic existence then we would certainly feel the loss, but that's not what we are discussing. We are discussing birth and death in that monochromatic existence without the slightest thought of colors existing. I doubt our minds could even understand the thought of what a "color" was or even looked like. For some reason I find this hilarious.
We are constantly learning and understanding further the world that surrounds us. Hell, hundreds of years ago we thought the world was flat, that sickness was caused by a curse and not pathogens, and the simple thought of molecules would have had you locked up as insane. This thought of a monochromatic existence makes me think about what it is we currently are missing in our modern age world. The fourth dimension for example. What is it? Or time. What the hell is time? Right now we live in a world where we feel like we understand so much, yet there is so much more. For all I know, we could be living in a pseudo monochromatic world, yet my mind just cannot fathom the thought. Which brings another interesting thought to mind, what if the reality I perceive is not the true reality everyone else perceives? Regardless, this blog was just a test to see if I could actually write about a completely random topic, hope it suffices. I'll write about something else tonight, until then, keep smiling.
Imagine living in a world where the only "colors" that can be perceived by the human eyes are black and white, maybe some shades of gray in there as filler. Would our lives really be any different from what they are now? Sure, the aesthetic qualities of our art we produce may be a little lackluster, but can we actually say that? All we know are the shades that the colors of black and white show us, thus our art in theory would be of the same quality we now produce. We just would be ignorant and naive to the fact that the actual color spectrum did not exist to us. Sure if all of a sudden we lost our ability to observe colors and were stuck in a monochromatic existence then we would certainly feel the loss, but that's not what we are discussing. We are discussing birth and death in that monochromatic existence without the slightest thought of colors existing. I doubt our minds could even understand the thought of what a "color" was or even looked like. For some reason I find this hilarious.
We are constantly learning and understanding further the world that surrounds us. Hell, hundreds of years ago we thought the world was flat, that sickness was caused by a curse and not pathogens, and the simple thought of molecules would have had you locked up as insane. This thought of a monochromatic existence makes me think about what it is we currently are missing in our modern age world. The fourth dimension for example. What is it? Or time. What the hell is time? Right now we live in a world where we feel like we understand so much, yet there is so much more. For all I know, we could be living in a pseudo monochromatic world, yet my mind just cannot fathom the thought. Which brings another interesting thought to mind, what if the reality I perceive is not the true reality everyone else perceives? Regardless, this blog was just a test to see if I could actually write about a completely random topic, hope it suffices. I'll write about something else tonight, until then, keep smiling.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Forgiveness
All my life I have never been one to really ask for anything. Still to this day I have a hard time asking my parents for money. I don't care if I have to eat peanut butter and dry pasta for weeks, I will not ask my parents for anything. Even with my friends, it is very hard for me to ask them for anything. I suppose that would mean that pride is my deadly sin, everyone has one. Yet, with this post I hope to break my pride and ask for one thing, forgiveness.
When I was growing up as a child, pardon the language, I was an asshole. My father would always ask me to do something with him, bonding things, and yet I always denied it. I would say something like, "No Dad, that's lame. I will never need to use that in life". I could see it in his eyes, the sadness I brought upon him. All he wanted to do was spend time with his child and actually get to know me, yet I blocked him at every chance. Stupid. That's what I was. I was an immature boy who thought only of himself and never of others. I know I should not blame myself for this, seeing as I was still maturing to my current state at the time, but I still feel guilty for it. I love my father more than anything in this world, yet I can't seem to tell him this to his face. It's not just him though, there are others.
My mother is one of the more inspirational people in my life. She is an amazing woman. I care not to go into details over this, just know she has been through hell in her life. I admire her for her ability to always walk through the flames of life with a positive attitude. Again though, as a child I would always try and test her. See how far I could push her before that positive attitude would break. The most memorable time that stands out in my mind was my sister's funeral. My whole family was broken by this tragedy. What did I do? Nothing. I acted as if nothing had happened. I cried once through the whole process, and that's only because the emotion became too unbearable. My mother's reaction? She thanked me for crying, for showing my true emotion. She thanked me after I had basically spat in the face of my sister's funeral. She showed me forgiveness. The true sense of the word.
I know I am not a perfect person. Anyone who knows me can obviously say that. It's just actually hard to admit to that fact. We, as humans, are not perfect beings. We may think that we are at times, yet the truth will always bring us back down to earth. I suppose what I am trying to say is that I just want forgiveness. I am sorry for all of the wrongs that I have done to various people throughout my life. No matter how trivial or small they may have seemed. Life truly is hard enough, who am I to make it harder? I think one thing we don't realize, until it is too late, is that life is fragile and short. We should make our decisions count. Next time someone asks you to hang out or do some mundane event, go along with it. In your eyes it may seem mundane and wasteful, but to them it may mean the world. I can't go back and relive my life, go back and spend more time with my father, yet maybe you are reading this and have not passed up your chance. That's all I can say on this subject. Take care.
When I was growing up as a child, pardon the language, I was an asshole. My father would always ask me to do something with him, bonding things, and yet I always denied it. I would say something like, "No Dad, that's lame. I will never need to use that in life". I could see it in his eyes, the sadness I brought upon him. All he wanted to do was spend time with his child and actually get to know me, yet I blocked him at every chance. Stupid. That's what I was. I was an immature boy who thought only of himself and never of others. I know I should not blame myself for this, seeing as I was still maturing to my current state at the time, but I still feel guilty for it. I love my father more than anything in this world, yet I can't seem to tell him this to his face. It's not just him though, there are others.
My mother is one of the more inspirational people in my life. She is an amazing woman. I care not to go into details over this, just know she has been through hell in her life. I admire her for her ability to always walk through the flames of life with a positive attitude. Again though, as a child I would always try and test her. See how far I could push her before that positive attitude would break. The most memorable time that stands out in my mind was my sister's funeral. My whole family was broken by this tragedy. What did I do? Nothing. I acted as if nothing had happened. I cried once through the whole process, and that's only because the emotion became too unbearable. My mother's reaction? She thanked me for crying, for showing my true emotion. She thanked me after I had basically spat in the face of my sister's funeral. She showed me forgiveness. The true sense of the word.
I know I am not a perfect person. Anyone who knows me can obviously say that. It's just actually hard to admit to that fact. We, as humans, are not perfect beings. We may think that we are at times, yet the truth will always bring us back down to earth. I suppose what I am trying to say is that I just want forgiveness. I am sorry for all of the wrongs that I have done to various people throughout my life. No matter how trivial or small they may have seemed. Life truly is hard enough, who am I to make it harder? I think one thing we don't realize, until it is too late, is that life is fragile and short. We should make our decisions count. Next time someone asks you to hang out or do some mundane event, go along with it. In your eyes it may seem mundane and wasteful, but to them it may mean the world. I can't go back and relive my life, go back and spend more time with my father, yet maybe you are reading this and have not passed up your chance. That's all I can say on this subject. Take care.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Love: The Bane Of Existence
Love. One word, yet it carries so many different ideas. Why is that? Why is it, as humans, we have yet to even understand the mental state of love. Sure, chemically we know what it does to us and how our body reacts, but the mind is different. There are so many different ways one can react to the sense of love. Fear. Happiness. Ecstasy. Lust. Anger. The list goes on. The reason? Well, I don't think there is one certain way for our minds to react to the sense of loving someone or being loved by someone. Could it simply be that the state of love is not so much a state of emotion yet, rather a state of confusion?
During my last spring break I went on a very interesting excursion with a close friend of mine. I refuse to go into details as to what we actually did, just know that the purpose of this adventure was so my friend could try and win the heart back of his love. Granted we are both in college and both are dreamers, so this adventure made complete sense. We gathered our things and went on a numerous hour drive to find this girl. Well needless to say, it was a mess. I cataloged the whole event and tried to observe the various states my friend went through. I watched as my friend went from complete and utter despair, I had never seen him cry before then, to a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment, and then to a mental state of being nonchalant and accepting. The whole time though, it was love spurring all of those emotions. Love was his sadness, his joy, his excitement, his existence.
My father loves my mother, that much is obvious. As a child I always knew it, yet I had never actually seen it. Then I thought to myself, "Am I not seeing his love for her or am I just passing over it". That was when I started to take notice of all my father's actions and what he did throughout the day. It was the small actions that showed his love. I mean sure he would do some big events every now and then, movies and dinner, a gift, but are those the important symbols of love? I think not. I think you show someone love by altering your life for that person. A perfect example of this is when my father would argue about something. He's a very stubborn man, we would argue for hours, yet he would often admit that my mother was right about a subject. When my mother was out of the room and it was only him and I he would always say, "Son, your mother pisses me off more than anyone in the world, but I love her more than anything. I don't know what I would do without her". Very crude words, but it showed his emotion so purely.
My take on love? I don't know. Right now I can't really say that I am in love with anyone. Sure, I'm dating someone who I could easily say that I am in love with, but what if I don't mean it? I don't even know what it means to be in love, so how could I say that I am in love with someone? I believe our world tosses the word love around too easily, it takes away from the meaning of the word. People should just take it day by day and enjoy the person that you are with. If you find yourself asking if you are in love with someone just ask yourself one question, "What does it mean to me to be in love". Love is the bane of human existence. We go through great lengths to get it, yet we have no idea what it is. Love is the holy grail of humans. Will we ever understand it? No, not entirely at least. Will I ever understand it? I hope so. Until that day happens, I find myself just enjoying life and living it to the fullest. Now please, go out and show that special someone what it means to you to love them. Goodnight and enjoy.
During my last spring break I went on a very interesting excursion with a close friend of mine. I refuse to go into details as to what we actually did, just know that the purpose of this adventure was so my friend could try and win the heart back of his love. Granted we are both in college and both are dreamers, so this adventure made complete sense. We gathered our things and went on a numerous hour drive to find this girl. Well needless to say, it was a mess. I cataloged the whole event and tried to observe the various states my friend went through. I watched as my friend went from complete and utter despair, I had never seen him cry before then, to a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment, and then to a mental state of being nonchalant and accepting. The whole time though, it was love spurring all of those emotions. Love was his sadness, his joy, his excitement, his existence.
My father loves my mother, that much is obvious. As a child I always knew it, yet I had never actually seen it. Then I thought to myself, "Am I not seeing his love for her or am I just passing over it". That was when I started to take notice of all my father's actions and what he did throughout the day. It was the small actions that showed his love. I mean sure he would do some big events every now and then, movies and dinner, a gift, but are those the important symbols of love? I think not. I think you show someone love by altering your life for that person. A perfect example of this is when my father would argue about something. He's a very stubborn man, we would argue for hours, yet he would often admit that my mother was right about a subject. When my mother was out of the room and it was only him and I he would always say, "Son, your mother pisses me off more than anyone in the world, but I love her more than anything. I don't know what I would do without her". Very crude words, but it showed his emotion so purely.
My take on love? I don't know. Right now I can't really say that I am in love with anyone. Sure, I'm dating someone who I could easily say that I am in love with, but what if I don't mean it? I don't even know what it means to be in love, so how could I say that I am in love with someone? I believe our world tosses the word love around too easily, it takes away from the meaning of the word. People should just take it day by day and enjoy the person that you are with. If you find yourself asking if you are in love with someone just ask yourself one question, "What does it mean to me to be in love". Love is the bane of human existence. We go through great lengths to get it, yet we have no idea what it is. Love is the holy grail of humans. Will we ever understand it? No, not entirely at least. Will I ever understand it? I hope so. Until that day happens, I find myself just enjoying life and living it to the fullest. Now please, go out and show that special someone what it means to you to love them. Goodnight and enjoy.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Byron: The Hospital Visit
While I was down in Austin for the whole GDC convention there was a particular event that happened and will forever stand out in my mind. One of my friends was having a problem breathing and, after consulting with my mother for a bit, we decided it would be best to just take him to the hospital. Now for the record, I hate everything about hospitals. Needles. Blood. White gloves. Everything. Yet there I was sitting in the emergency room of the hospital just waiting for my friend to make sure he was alright. That was when my attention was caught by a single man pacing around the ER.
The man looked to be much older than myself, I would place him in his late fifties, had medium length wavy gray hair, and a serious case of Shingles. He seemed to simply be mumbling to himself and grabbing his left thigh every so often, usually followed by an extreme look of pain across his face. Now for anyone that does not know what Shingles is, it can be extremely painful. It is a skin rash that forms much like Chicken Pox, small bumps on the skin, filled with puss, not fun stuff. Anyways, I decided, for some unknown reason, that I was going to start a conversation with this man. Why? To try and help distract his mind from the suffering he was going through.
Now for some reason our society has found it tabboo to talk to strangers, I can understand it in some cases yet not completely. The conversation that I had with this man, Byron he eventually told me, was one of the more entertaining and intellectual talks I have had in a while. We discussed movies and the progression of film from black and white silent films to todays digitally created ones. This man, who in normal aspects would have looked insane, was a complete film buff. We played a game for a while where I would say a movie and he would say all the lead actors that starred in it. How many did he get right? All of them. It was amazing to see someone so passionate about something that was merely a source of entertainment. That's when my mind began to drift onto a subject not as pleasant as movies, aging.
One thing that I noticed with Byron was the fact that in general he was "happy". Here was a man stricken with Shingles, apparently lived in public housing, had no money, no car, no job, and was simply loving life. I actually brought the subject up once during our hours of conversation. His response? "Getting old is not for wimps". That was it. In one sentence he was able to portray his whole ideal on the subject of getting old. I can honestly say though, since meeting Byron and listening to his passionately talk about movies, that I feel somewhat...better. Even though I was watching a man suffer in agony, talking about trivial matters, and clearly getting up there in age, he was completely appreciative of his existence. It just goes to show that there are people out there that are born only to show others what it means to live. Byron, you have inspired me on more levels than you can understand. Getting old is certainly not for wimps.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Counting Stars
One of my favorite past times is gazing out at that great black quilt in the sky and counting the amount of stars I can perceive. I can just stand there for hours gazing up at the sky, like a turkey in the rain. This is something I have always done since I was a child, it helps relieve my stress. The problem is that I often find myself wishing on the brightest, or first, star that I see. Why is this a problem you ask? Well it is very simple, I am not religious. This may seem like a far fetched connection, and sort of idiotic, yet follow me on this thought process.
When I was growing up I was all for the idea of religion and believing in some greater being, yet in my older age I found myself lacking faith. I just could not bring myself to believe that there is some greater being that is dictating everyone and everything in existence. Certainly it is a nice thought to have, I mean you can always scapegoat your actions on this thing that is bigger than you ever can be. You can even just ask, or pray, for some help and this being is supposedly going to help you through your problems. Sorry, I cannot bring myself to follow this trend that so many people have fallen into, or at least that is what I thought.
One day I was walking down one of the main streets of Phoenix at night and found myself contemplating religion and my obsession with stars. That was when it hit me. My wishing on stars is, in theory, no different than someone asking that being for help. My wishes were nothing more than diluted prayers. Sure I may not be praying to the same being that a religion would pray to but, I was at least praying. Now does this mean that I admit I am religious and will start searching for my religion to follow? No, of course not, that would be a ridiculous thought. I mean, after all, I am just a turkey staring up at the sky, counting stars. Enjoy your day.
When I was growing up I was all for the idea of religion and believing in some greater being, yet in my older age I found myself lacking faith. I just could not bring myself to believe that there is some greater being that is dictating everyone and everything in existence. Certainly it is a nice thought to have, I mean you can always scapegoat your actions on this thing that is bigger than you ever can be. You can even just ask, or pray, for some help and this being is supposedly going to help you through your problems. Sorry, I cannot bring myself to follow this trend that so many people have fallen into, or at least that is what I thought.
One day I was walking down one of the main streets of Phoenix at night and found myself contemplating religion and my obsession with stars. That was when it hit me. My wishing on stars is, in theory, no different than someone asking that being for help. My wishes were nothing more than diluted prayers. Sure I may not be praying to the same being that a religion would pray to but, I was at least praying. Now does this mean that I admit I am religious and will start searching for my religion to follow? No, of course not, that would be a ridiculous thought. I mean, after all, I am just a turkey staring up at the sky, counting stars. Enjoy your day.
Death, or self purpose?
One of the things that I find interesting as a human, which I believe most people will agree on this, is the fact that we do not have a purpose to live. In theory we should all just kill ourselves and end this ridiculous hamster wheel known simply as "Life". Although that in itself is a cynical point of view, I am cynical in nature, and most of the world's populous would not approve of that previous statement. Yet, what then is our actual purpose to live and prosper and continue this vicious cycle? The only answer that I have been able to find is simply found in our own human mortality, death.
There are numerous times, whether during the day or key periods in my life, where I ask myself, "Why should I even bother continuing to live?", and death is always the deciding factor. I find that by living my life with the thought of death looming overhead with every decision it makes the outcome all that much more fulfilling. I mean, if you constantly say, "Wait, I will die eventually, possibly now", you will always make decisions that will fulfill your life to the fullest and most appreciative. At the same time though you must take this life motto, theory, concept, whatever, with a light heart and a strong mind.
If everyone in existence started thinking with this mentality, pardon the language, the world would go to shit. No one would even want to think about tomorrow when they could die today. We would have people robbing, killing, raping, etc. and the world would be in an even worse condition. That is why you must take this idea and think long term with it. What do I want to do with my life? What is my ideal career? How far do I wish to take my education? If you realize that your time on this world is, in reality, short then you will start to take action. Instead of sitting around doing nothing with your life you might instead get up and go out into the world and make something of yourself. Well, at least that is what I did. Remember though this is just my own personal mentality and I am by no means trying to push this idea on anyone. This is more of just a fluid thought played our in words that could possibly help someone else out there. Cheers mates.
There are numerous times, whether during the day or key periods in my life, where I ask myself, "Why should I even bother continuing to live?", and death is always the deciding factor. I find that by living my life with the thought of death looming overhead with every decision it makes the outcome all that much more fulfilling. I mean, if you constantly say, "Wait, I will die eventually, possibly now", you will always make decisions that will fulfill your life to the fullest and most appreciative. At the same time though you must take this life motto, theory, concept, whatever, with a light heart and a strong mind.
If everyone in existence started thinking with this mentality, pardon the language, the world would go to shit. No one would even want to think about tomorrow when they could die today. We would have people robbing, killing, raping, etc. and the world would be in an even worse condition. That is why you must take this idea and think long term with it. What do I want to do with my life? What is my ideal career? How far do I wish to take my education? If you realize that your time on this world is, in reality, short then you will start to take action. Instead of sitting around doing nothing with your life you might instead get up and go out into the world and make something of yourself. Well, at least that is what I did. Remember though this is just my own personal mentality and I am by no means trying to push this idea on anyone. This is more of just a fluid thought played our in words that could possibly help someone else out there. Cheers mates.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Introduction Post
Now seeing as this is my actual first blog post I might as well introduce myself a bit. The problem is I hate talking about myself and all that good stuff, so instead I will just post a story and hopefully you, the reader, get some semblance into who I am.
One of the more perfect moments of my life that I have come across recently happened. It was about a week ago and I found myself traveling in a taxi through downtown Austin, Texas. I was in Austin for a convention, so I'm not an actual native of the area. Anyways it was about the third day of the convention and I found myself exhausted; it was very early in the morning mind you. Now, usually, I am a very talkative person who would enjoy nothing more than conversing with the taxi driver, yet this morning was different.
My two friends and I go into the taxi like usual, I would say it was around six or so in the morning, way too early, and started traveling to our convention destination. Well, instead of listening to what the conversation was about, I just popped my i-pod headphones in and started listening to "The Killers." About fifteen minutes into the ride we found ourselves sitting at a red light, which of course would be a normal situation in most cases except for this exact moment.
I was sitting in the back left seat of the car and found myself staring out the window at one of the most beautiful things ever: a woman throwing up. Follow me on this. The woman was white, blond hair, and looked roughly in her mid twenties. Nothing special. Yet standing over her was another person, a man to be exact. The man was black, had short hair, and looked to be in his low thirties. The woman was kneeling on the ground, one hand holding her hair back and another on the ground to keep herself balanced, and just coughing/vomiting all over the side walk. What was this man doing? Kissing her. The man was standing over her, rubbing her back, and kissing her on the cheek/neck. He appeared to be talking to her, consoling her no doubt, yet I could not hear what they were saying. While all of this was going on the song "Uncle Johnny" was playing, adding to the whole feel of the situation. Now the reason I say it was the more perfect moments is simply because it showed raw and pure human emotion.
Here were these two people, of which I hadn't the slightest clue as to who/what they were all about, yet they were so...perfect. The woman clearly was in great distress and needed someone to support her. The man on the other hand was showing the true passion and care he had for this woman. He was not off put by the fact she was vomiting in broad day light in the middle of the city. Instead he was actually supporting her as if he was the one vomiting in the road. The man had no care for anyone else in the world other than that woman kneeling there in front of him. Time had literally stopped for them and they were the only ones who existed. It was perfect. Anyways, that's my introduction. Good day.
One of the more perfect moments of my life that I have come across recently happened. It was about a week ago and I found myself traveling in a taxi through downtown Austin, Texas. I was in Austin for a convention, so I'm not an actual native of the area. Anyways it was about the third day of the convention and I found myself exhausted; it was very early in the morning mind you. Now, usually, I am a very talkative person who would enjoy nothing more than conversing with the taxi driver, yet this morning was different.
My two friends and I go into the taxi like usual, I would say it was around six or so in the morning, way too early, and started traveling to our convention destination. Well, instead of listening to what the conversation was about, I just popped my i-pod headphones in and started listening to "The Killers." About fifteen minutes into the ride we found ourselves sitting at a red light, which of course would be a normal situation in most cases except for this exact moment.
I was sitting in the back left seat of the car and found myself staring out the window at one of the most beautiful things ever: a woman throwing up. Follow me on this. The woman was white, blond hair, and looked roughly in her mid twenties. Nothing special. Yet standing over her was another person, a man to be exact. The man was black, had short hair, and looked to be in his low thirties. The woman was kneeling on the ground, one hand holding her hair back and another on the ground to keep herself balanced, and just coughing/vomiting all over the side walk. What was this man doing? Kissing her. The man was standing over her, rubbing her back, and kissing her on the cheek/neck. He appeared to be talking to her, consoling her no doubt, yet I could not hear what they were saying. While all of this was going on the song "Uncle Johnny" was playing, adding to the whole feel of the situation. Now the reason I say it was the more perfect moments is simply because it showed raw and pure human emotion.
Here were these two people, of which I hadn't the slightest clue as to who/what they were all about, yet they were so...perfect. The woman clearly was in great distress and needed someone to support her. The man on the other hand was showing the true passion and care he had for this woman. He was not off put by the fact she was vomiting in broad day light in the middle of the city. Instead he was actually supporting her as if he was the one vomiting in the road. The man had no care for anyone else in the world other than that woman kneeling there in front of him. Time had literally stopped for them and they were the only ones who existed. It was perfect. Anyways, that's my introduction. Good day.
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