I have wanted to write for ages but never seemed to find the right moment. It always seemed that although I had the drive the will and the hope somehow one of those things would not translate well and I would end up with nothing. No stories, no more ideas, just broken dreams and empty hopes. By eighteen I was supposed to be published but somehow I have just turned twenty and still no book under my belt. I wanted to be able to travel the world and write witty and provocative accounts of my adventures but nothing came out. Until one night I realized that it was enough. It seemed that I had this hope in the back of my mind that I could always grow up to be a writer if it all didn't work. This false assurance that for sure if I just started everything else would sort itself out. Why? Did I possess such audacity to believe that all I had to do was begin to write down my thoughts and the rest would follow? I am not exactly sure why but nonetheless that is were I have ended up. A hope that i must try but it seems that I have almost been so scared of my false confidence that I have prevented myself from doing the one thing I really feel drawn to. When I look into the world of politics I see good people ending up throwing their lives out the window. The hearts of many are fooled by the smooth words of just a few. Leaders seem to be manufactured nowadays like action figures each with their own special blue cape and warning labels. Its as if humanity has forgotten. Forgotten that true leadership comes in the form of a servant. One who is willing to be the last and serve the weakest in hopes not to get votes but rather to truly help. Why are we continually focusing upon the unnecessary? Are we too afraid as a society to maybe except someone who looks perhaps a bit different. Fear when it rules a person destroys so it does the same when it rules an entire nation. A society forgetting that we are held together not by our similarities but by our differences. Brought to a common place for similar goals yet nothing else brings our lives together. We stand as Americans not because we have the same skin color or religion but because we believe in the good of man and the hope that with hard work and passion we can achieve any dream. Why did I vote for Obama? It was not because I believe in pro choice or gay marriages but because I believe that fear should not rule us. The very fact that he is different from all presidents that have come before grants me a strong hope. If America was not created to give a mixed boy raised by a single parent the opportunity to cross the lines of race than what is the point of the country? America is made up of peasants who pursued a different path. It opened the door for millions to break the curses of generations as servants. We are not a country with a strong lineage or ancient history but we are a nation that touches the entire world. Rather than running from others and hiding in the comfort of a vast military or deep oceans we must recognize that it will not be terrorism that will kill us or a nuclear bomb. Before this destroys the world a surrender to fear and acceptance of the walls of prejudice will desecrate us as a society. The moment we accept the belief that that what we do not know or understand is wrong, that everyone else is in someway different from us that is when we have failed as a society.

It is hard to go into detail about how you feel when a person close to you dies. There seems to be either this rush of emotions that makes it unbearable to function or absolutely no feeling at all. It's a feast or famine, flood or desert kind of time. This feeling that suddenly the word is collapsing and having exactly no idea what to do with it. When the emotions fire they come all at once resulting in sob sessions in the middle of the grocery aisle while deciding which kind of cereal to buy, or just while watching commercials. Those moments when any and everything can set off the flow. Honestly, its rather alarming the number of tears the body produces at times its as if they will never cease. Yet they always do and somehow an entire new persona of being completely numb takes their place. When looking straight on at your friend who sits next to you, holding your hand while asking how you're dealing with everything and you reply, "Fine." Without a hint of emotion to be found. "Fine." you say again, "Of course it is hard but I am quite fine." The stare is held a little longer depending on how good the friend is. Some smile faintly and change the topic quickly relieved that the uneasy moment has passed, those tend to be the more self involved ones; while the others scan your face deciding their next move. Then upon finding no emotion or sign they simply deduct that you're cold, hard heartened, and rather awful or even worse that you are a fake and staging a front. Of course you know that the feeling is neither cold or fake but rather a result of utter exhaustian. To laugh is exhausting to cry is exhausting to think is exhausting. Every function possessing feeling of any kind seems impossible and so slowly actions become routine making you a little less human and a little more drone. The worst part however is not the embarrassing tears in the check out line or the knowledge that your friends think your heartless no those things are inconsequential. What is really awful is the feeling that this time, this pain, this hurt, this uncertainty, this season of crimson red will never end. That life will never again be sweet, the sky never again blue instead forever gray and that even in those moments to come in your greatest ecstasy you will never fully enjoy or really live in them because you will never again be a whole person. This thought is foremost the most frightening. The idea that you will not be seeing your loved one is definitely a close second yet it still falls short to the fear of never having the ability to truly live again. Because lets face it we are all very selfish and to go through life without living is positively terrifying.
Its funny life is because we all try to ignore its mortality no matter how hard we never win and death still at one point or another arrives. The day begins like every other waking up, getting dressed, deciding what to do, where to go, what to wear, thinking of the phone calls, emails, letters, comments to return, and suddenly without warning one moment, one conversation catastrophically changes your life forever. Barraged by a ton of bricks falling from the sky without warning. As if the very foundation stones that once supported you have disappeared and instead a feeling of falling takes over continually providing the anxiety of hitting the ground yet never the release of impact. Even in the case of the terminally ill or very old there when the death is expected there is no sufficient way to prepare. It is no less unbelievable and tragic when it happens to someone who has your heart. Who do you talk to when you do not want to see anyone? What can you say or do to make things better? The questions are endless and moment seems to last for an eternity. At least that's the way I felt when my grandmother passed away. There I was three thousand miles away from home in a foreign country surrounded by people who had known me for little under a years time and I was blind sided by this huge realization that I would never be able to see her again. A pillar in my life had collapsed and I was left alone to soldier on. I sat at a cafe on campus in utter anguish and yet around me as classes ended and the halls began to fill with boisterous and loud people I realized I was the only who felt that pain. How could it be that such a earth shattering experience could have taken place for me and no one else? Not one other person felt that pain or fear that seemed so real. It made me think if I could be sitting stewing with so much inside of me the pain effecting me so deeply that it seemed tangible what could be going on with these other people. What tortures were they carrying with them and just masking to get by the day? It was the strangest realization and perhaps the most heart breaking because I surely was not the only one with so much heart ache. Time however knows no pain never stopping to ponder its feelings and thus life continues and people are left to shoulder their burdens.