inspiration

Ok I'm a junior! Can you believe it?

My grandfather was a classy guy. He was brilliant and the most stubborn person I have ever met. He thought he had met his match with me though. My grandfather was my hero when I was a kid. He paid attention to me unlike anyone else. Even though I was 8 and he was several decades older, we would have debates about everything.

Times like thes calls for a little bit of motivation....

Of My American Dream

"The brittleness of glass does not consist in fact that it is at any given moment actually being shivered. It may be brittle without ever being shivered."

I read this in my philosophy book and it struck me. I had to write it down. And send it to two friends to whom i write letters on occassion. It's a dying art.

I thought I was taking a class that I could breeze through. I thought I was taking a class where my wit would suffice for conversation and common sense would prevail. I thought I was taking a class where we'd sit and talk about what we think. Little did I realize. Philosophy. I thought it would be easy. I thought wrong.

Having been a first generation college student, with little knowledge on the outside world, and hailing from a rural area, I would have to say it is my husband who has aided me the most in realizing my potential, thus impacting my life. At age 19 I was married, to another first generation college student, but one who had a little more experience with the world.

You know, it just figures that as soon as I make a ProU account my thoughts stop. I'm not feeling inspired to do anything, not feeling any drive to make a motion - just nothing. Usually, I would call this "writer's block," but I don't think it is that: it has more to do with the high expectation of myself to write something good.

Plato the philosopher once told a story of a man who was chained facing a wall in a cave, unable to turn his body or head in any direction. Behind him the cave sloped upwards toward the sun, but along the way were figures which would dance and move in the sunlight, casting shadows on the wall in front of the chained prisoner.