To all the Gods that be I have been apt to often discuss with my good friend Neil the nature of the history in which we relive and we have both come to similar conclusions; we are pieces. Pieces to a game, a politicians games where to win is to come out bigger, better, richer, and with more influence. This game pulls us through wars, through depressions, through famine and drought, through violence and rage, and everything in between. Upon watching documentaries of past Peace Conferences or UN meetings, the men laugh and joke and throw around words. By the end of the day, two countries have decided to cut all trade and thus affect millions of lives. To them, they have made a deal and accomplished their mission with goals in mind. To us, your neighbor lost his job. Maybe not. Maybe you have never been affected. But the fact that each nation is moved and controlled and lives and dies by the decisions of men who have never met you seems amoral to me in some aspects.

I dont want to spur of anti-war politics, but I can simply not imagine being willing to go to war or support any of our past wars which my country has been involved. The very fact of taking away life when no threat is directly upon you or your family seems unfathomable to me. To shoot a man is inhuman, but made slightly more likely when they have commited some offence. But pretend you are drafted from your home and pushed into a uniform then forced with gun in hand to go against an enemy which you have no squabble with aside from their choice to live differently than your leader wants. I just don't get it.


Aside from all of that, I would like to say that I am exremely greatful for my eyesight. I woke up this morning with one eye glazed shut from some irritation that was left unremoved from the night before. The result; minimal frontal vision aside from a hazy outlook and the inability to look left due to a sore eye-socket. Gross and uncomfortable. I can only think that this might have been what it was like in the early stages for Ray Charles as he lost his sight or Ludwig Van Beethoven as he slowly went deaf. The loss of something is great, the slow progression towards absence is worse. I sure hope my eye gets well.



Well, i guess right now i should be doing history  ¶ 5:58 AM