I have not dealt with much hardship in my life. When I say this, I mean of course that I have not starved, been left shelter-less, contracted malaria or had anything go massively wrong. None of my friends died today. When I see well-off, middle class people in America complaining about their lives or that raise they weren't given, a friend saying something behind their backs, or even something as trivial as a less-than-current cell phone, it truly irks me. I would love more than anything to run up to these people who claim to have it bad and say "Did you not eat dinner tonight?" or "How many of your relatives were shot to death today?" We, as a developed, technical society, have become absurdly self-centered.
This being said, I try not to complain very much. I know that somewhere in the distance there is someone at all times who would make me look like a little brat to even think about giving poor marks to any part of my life. This year of my life has truly, truly tested my strength as that type of person. The details are personal. This is a semi-personal blog (if those nouns can for one second be compounded), but even so I would like to not discuss them. Throughout this, I have been looking for strength in many different places. I look in my friends, my family, my music, my school work, I look anywhere for an answer and find none. Nothing to answer everyone's one question: why? As I sit on my back porch tonight with my laptop, a bowl of cereal and a cigarette, I've realized that nothing on this Earth can answer me why stylized, American life can be so challenging, yet so unfulfilling. Why do children die by the thousands every day at the hands of each other? And throughout this, why do I sit here waiting for lung cancer and doing nothing about it? And what've I found.
Ask the creator.
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