Post by flameslash22 on May 1, 2017 16:44:50 GMT -5
The journey to figure out who I was began when I took off on that plane at the end of seventh grade all those days ago.
Discovering who you are is hard to master. Or at least, it's hard to master without some help. But figuring out who you are is like unlocking the key to a box that's held a secret you've been wanting to discover for years. It's like discovering the purpose of your life, why you matter, and what you can do to make others respect you and to make you respect yourself. It's like being happy and striving for a goal that you can see. But before I stepped on that plane... I didn't know any of that.
I was a bad person before I found out who I was. I had nowhere to go. I had nothing that defined me. I walked through life, instead of living it. But then the plane's wheels touched the ground--and when they touched the ground a second time, I'd have unlocked that sealed-by-three-chains box.
There were a few maxims that got me to that point. One was isolationism. I had time to think for myself, time to think about what I had done in my life. There was no one to force me to talk to them. There was no one to force me to go through life, like so many white men pushing a slave towards the west. I had a lot of time to think for myself. Without impeding forces of my parents or social boundaries, I first figured out that there was a problem--a few problems with who I was. So the first chain broke.
With the cultural shock of another country, I was stunned into seeing things a different way. My memories would never remain the same for those three months I was in another country. They would be touched by the spirit of culture. The music of the country, language of the country, hills of the country and spirit of the country made me change my lifestyle. I saw myself as starting a fresh life, as changing myself. I would change myself in a new world, a beautiful isolated isle of culture, and when I would return to my home country, I would face the demons inside of me head on--the demons that had now left me, and broke the second chain.
Tick, tock, tick tock. Time, like a grandfather clock. I had time to build up my confidence, reshape my passion, find my ambition, harness my strength, sharpen my knowledge, locate a path. When I returned home, I would test myself. It would be like taking trials. I turned myself into a manifestation of all those qualities. realized what it meant to be happy and have a goal--it meant knowledge. I realized how it felt to live life--it felt like culture, walking the streets of a different land, speaking a different tongue, living a different life, a better one.
And so when those wheels touched the ground I vowed to make my two lives the same, and promise that I would leave the country again to learn tenfold what I had learned before. But the wheels touched the ground, tick, tock, and the grandfather clock pendulum snapped and broke the third chain, and opened the box.
Discovering who you are is hard to master. Or at least, it's hard to master without some help. But figuring out who you are is like unlocking the key to a box that's held a secret you've been wanting to discover for years. It's like discovering the purpose of your life, why you matter, and what you can do to make others respect you and to make you respect yourself. It's like being happy and striving for a goal that you can see. But before I stepped on that plane... I didn't know any of that.
I was a bad person before I found out who I was. I had nowhere to go. I had nothing that defined me. I walked through life, instead of living it. But then the plane's wheels touched the ground--and when they touched the ground a second time, I'd have unlocked that sealed-by-three-chains box.
There were a few maxims that got me to that point. One was isolationism. I had time to think for myself, time to think about what I had done in my life. There was no one to force me to talk to them. There was no one to force me to go through life, like so many white men pushing a slave towards the west. I had a lot of time to think for myself. Without impeding forces of my parents or social boundaries, I first figured out that there was a problem--a few problems with who I was. So the first chain broke.
With the cultural shock of another country, I was stunned into seeing things a different way. My memories would never remain the same for those three months I was in another country. They would be touched by the spirit of culture. The music of the country, language of the country, hills of the country and spirit of the country made me change my lifestyle. I saw myself as starting a fresh life, as changing myself. I would change myself in a new world, a beautiful isolated isle of culture, and when I would return to my home country, I would face the demons inside of me head on--the demons that had now left me, and broke the second chain.
Tick, tock, tick tock. Time, like a grandfather clock. I had time to build up my confidence, reshape my passion, find my ambition, harness my strength, sharpen my knowledge, locate a path. When I returned home, I would test myself. It would be like taking trials. I turned myself into a manifestation of all those qualities. realized what it meant to be happy and have a goal--it meant knowledge. I realized how it felt to live life--it felt like culture, walking the streets of a different land, speaking a different tongue, living a different life, a better one.
And so when those wheels touched the ground I vowed to make my two lives the same, and promise that I would leave the country again to learn tenfold what I had learned before. But the wheels touched the ground, tick, tock, and the grandfather clock pendulum snapped and broke the third chain, and opened the box.
