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Dec 16, 2006
No good deed goes unpunished. Look at David and Goliath. David killed Goliath saving thousands, and yet God tells David that he cannot help rebuild because he had too much 'blood' on his hands. So you see, though he killed in God's name, though he was a man of God, he was punished. So I ask you, where is the point in being good, if you are simply punished for it? There is no bigger evil in this world than humankind alike. If I were to say the sky is blue there would be some one there to say it is actually not a color at all but a reflection of the ocean, just for the sake of meaningless arguement.
Meanwhile, church-goers are picketing outside of the funerals of fallen soldiers, holding signs that read : "Your sons are burning in Hell". So where is the meaning in fighting for what we believe in, only to get scorned by our peers? But still each individual fight goes on.
Back to the point, all of our childhood, our parents teach us to "be good", "sit up and behave". For some of us that gets etched into our brains, be good and you'll be loved. Meanwhile, in high school, the good girl cheerleader with all the grades gets labeled a slut, while the actual slut has all the friends. Figure that one out for me.
The moral of this story, sad, pathetic, but true. It only pays to be bad.
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Posted: Dec 16, 2006 3:12pm
Dec 15, 2006
I had a memory... or was it a dream? I can never tell. It's always been hard to pinpoint the moment the moment when my world began to fall apart. But now, I think I can.
    I was about five or so, when this dream memory took place. I was in the woods behind my house with my family. My mother, my father, my sister, my brother. We were there as a family, just taking a walk in the woods. I remember being afraid of getting lost. I sat on a rock, just thinking, what if we don't make it home? This is where i find it hard to distinguish dream from reality. My mother knelt down before me. She told me, "I will never let you get lost."
    Did this really happen, I don't know. I'd like to think that it did. I look back on this dream memory and find myself missing something. I want to run to my mother and tell her that I am lost. That I am missing and I am afraid that she'll never find me. Once again I am afraid of not making it home.
    When I finally muster up the courage to run to her and tell her this; to scream my emotions at her; I lose all my breath. To see this woman, who was once my pillar of strength, sick and unable to move on her own most of the time, I die inside. I feel as though now I am the mother and the pillar of strength. To see this woman, sick and bald from chemotherapy, this woman, who is still the goddess in my eyes, I run and hide. I can not let her see my tears.
    Is that wrong? I don't think so. I am built of this woman's strength and love. I can not scream at her, I don't blame her for my problems. I want to cry when I look at her. I want to cradle her like she once cradled me and tell her it will all be ok. Even if it's not.
    As much as I want to tell her I am lost in the woods, I can't. No that's not when my world fell apart. The crushing blow came shortly after that.
    It hit like a tornado. Tearing apart my shelter, my home. This thing that fed off of us, drained us of our very life.
    My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1993. A six year old , too young to fully understand, but old enough to fear it. I knew what it meant when i heard those words. I was going to lose my mommy.
    My fear of being lost turned to a fear of losing. I regret that i don't remember much of my mother before this demon attacked her. But I realize now, that doesn't matter. What matters are the good days. The days she wasn't too tired to sit outside or cook us dinner. The trips we took to florida, conneticut, even just to presquisle or the grocery store. I learned to live for the good days.
    Yet, even on 'not-so-good' days, she amazed me. You could never tell that she had this demon inside of her.
    Someone told me, when someone passes on, they transfer a piece of their soul into the people closest to them. I would like to think that true. I would like to believe that a piece of my mother, my lifeline... the woman I took care of and nurtured, to have a piece of her inside me, gives me hope. Hope that tomorrow will be better. Hope that my dreams really can come true. Hope that when I have children of my own, I can do for them, what was done for me.
    I will go on, I will be the pillar of strength. If she taught me anything, it was that all you need to get through life is one little four letter word. HOPE
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Posted: Dec 15, 2006 8:54pm

 

 
 
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Jessica Thompson
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Auburn, ME, USA
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