Monday, April 30, 2012

Home is where the heart is?

Having two homes is very unsettling. Whenever I'm home in Manhattan Beach, I want to be in Chicago. Whenever I'm home in Chicago, I want to be in Manhattan Beach. They say that home is where the heart is so why is it that my heart always seems to be wherever I'm not?

My dad says that this will never go away and he should know...He's the man that's been away from his home since the age of 19. I guess I'm the same age but at least I'm on the same continent as my family.

I've seemed to really discover myself in Chicago which is great. The only thing I'm worried about is that I'm going to lose it when I go back home. Here, I surround myself with people who only think highly of me and believe me in me and just flat out love everything about me. If anyone makes me feel bad I just don't hang out with them...Simple as that. At home it's more difficult than that. The people that make me feel bad are right in my very own family.

Honestly...I'm afraid to go home. I'm losing my support system for a few months and I don't know if I'm ready to handle everything on my own.

Of course I am writing all of this while spending my last bittersweet Monday as a freshman packing up all of my stuff. It's only understandable that my current emotional state is sad and reminiscent.

I find writing in this blog very therapeutic. Whenever I'm feeling a strong emotion it helps me to discover why I'm feeling that specific emotion. It's also just nice to vent freely and to not have to censor anything.

Story Idea: A homeless man who lost touch with his family 7 years ago ends up running into his niece (or granddaughter) when she comes with her youth group to feed the homeless. She tells him their new address and gives him a little money for transportation. He shows up at their house for dinner.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

I need a personal hard drive.

I am absolutely terrified of death. What scares me the most has nothing to do with the physical pain. It's the fact that our minds completely shut down instantly when we die. All of those memories, all of that knowledge, all of that hard work will in the end amount to nothing.

I wish I could hire Apple to create a personal hardrive just for my brain. That way when I die I will have everything in my brain backed up for someone else's benefit or just for resources (Let's be serious I would never curse somebody with my mind. That'd be cruel.)

I would like to believe in a heaven. After all there is nothing wrong with harmless belief. But now that I have been losing touch with my religion it's hard to find the reassurance in a heaven. Even if there is a heaven, I don't believe that our personal selves make it up there. Maybe our spirits do. But how is that reassuring? People make the mistake of grouping our personalities and our spirits together. Sure we may have individual spirits, but they don't have any resemblance to our human selves. They are our essences. Our core. So even if my spirit lives on Madison Swart will not. Madison Swart is apart of my spirit. My spirit is not apart of Madison Swart.

The only way I will ever be at peace with death is if I die feeling like I made a difference. Enough of a difference to be remembered. The only way we live on after we die is through our impacts on other people. Though it's not enough for me to just impact those close to me because after all they will eventually die as well.

No. I need to create something meaningful. I am a very selfish person. The only way I find happiness is by making other people happy.

Story Idea: Comedy. A man dies and finally gets to meet his spirit. His spirit is completely disappointed in what this man has amounted to.The spirit then shows this man who else he has been a spirit to in the past. A wide range of successful and different things. Perhaps a king, a philosopher, a lion, Martin Luther King Jr. etc

Questions to think about: How will it end? Do the spirit and the man part ways?

I am going to start creating story ideas from the big things that are floating around in my mind. That way, instead of useless babble, it might turn into something.

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