Tribulation
And he sat on the sofa, the frown and his eyes determined, working on another worthless piece of academic crap. I got sick of academic crap years ago. After being saturated with it for years, with it dominating me and my personality, I decided to finally reject its dominance and allow a starved part of myself grow.
And thus was born the human being Stan. I am a caregiver, i am a taker. i believe in comfort with others, minutes of pleasure with no strings attached, if only to lift your spirits.
But this is a flawed human being. No model of perfection exists, for life in being normal means needing to make mistakes, needing to learn and be unique, not be one with sheep.
I used to think that all I needed were books. Why live life when you could read about others'? Then I found that there were so few life experiences, that they were beginning to be bland and worthless. I decided to make my own experience.
Sometimes I look back and think whether I was a better person then or now. I fit a model back then, being normal, regular, cut-to-order. And now I am an anachronism, a paradox of split emotions. A dualist, believeing in good & bad. Knowing that a good deed is a part of a perfect day, and so is indulging in some pleasure.
Before i would listen to others and take their advice. now I take my own. Reason, common sense, instinct, they all have guided me, the triumvirate of survival on my own.
I realize that I can love. To be loved back, however, is a choice of fate and destiny. We are free to love, to lust, to cloud our judgements. But to walk through the valley of death, sorrow, and extinguished flames is the true test of the human spirit.