As with any art form, the practice of written script should be rehearsed on occasion, lest the skill begins to stiffen and our words dull.  As so, I write partly for the sake of practice, and partly as a therapeutic avenue to channel both recurring thoughts and new concerns altogether.  It was some time ago that I realized an unfounded prejudice that deeply entrenched my persona, with a general disdain for certain types of persons.  I say this now as a confession and as a triumphant marker in my gradation from stubbornness and fear (whether the latter bore the former was and remains unknown) to a greater acceptance and perhaps a step towards harmony with my fellow human kind. 

I have spent a significant amount of time conversing with this professor, more so than any previous professor that has captivated me through their knowledge and expertise.  Although many of my undergraduate professors have had an extraordinary impact on shaping the person that I am, I feel that this one has been both one of whom I truly aspire to be like and simultaneously one by which has shattered preconceived notions transpiring from shallow interactions and a general disdain that is at best wrongfully perceived.  And so, I spend what little time I can afford after classes conversing with him regarding the nuances of law, child rearing (it may sound very odd that I mention this, but this is perhaps something that is best left for me to explain in person if one so wishes to know), and overall a fascination of the depths of his charismatic knowledge and deference that is found to be so appealing.  This is perhaps something by which I wish to become through my time in this world- one with such powerful analytical ability and quick wit.  Taken the time I have to write so fondly of this person, I am reminded of my other outstanding characters that have and remains an influence as to who I strive to become.  For one, I have not forgotten the lessons and inspirations retained from my term in DHS, and as so, I remain deeply rooted in the tenacity and ambition that was exemplified by my previous superior.  Although I feel that I slowly am drawing away from that exact person per say, I do understand that the implications for my “apprenticeship” should be bore through another facet in this world.  Chiefly spoken, I remain vigilant in demonstrating steadfastness and drive through some other path in life.  This is my hope, at least. 

Taken the moment to wonder over the scrawl that has been my destiny over the course of merely a year, I can only marvel at the disparities in Redford as I stand today, and Redford as I stood before.  Perhaps my destiny now, something unperceivable and perhaps unacceptable to myself then, was fashioned along the route by tinges characterized by frustrations, fears, but mostly copious realizations of what I truly am when the layers of my self are peeled back.  Undoubtly, the phrase- “an onion, no matter the way you cut it, still stinks” may still apply.  However, I suppose in that situation, I realize that the “stench” is not what was previously thought.  Time permitting, I will eventually come to realize my true constitutional roots and not the branches that spring from them.

At times it bears down on me that perhaps I have lost faith in my fellow humankind.  I suppose sometimes, while scouring through the seemingly endless and senseless streams of vileness that we as humans are so overwhelmingly capable of, I lose sight that perhaps there are in truth, good things that we, too, can glimmer with intermittently.  Although I have no less altered my views of potential for our own redemption, perhaps given the circumstances I currently endure, I wonder if I can reconcile these apparently conflicting views.  I wish not to embrace any particular stance for fear of dogmatic insolence, but I cannot help but feel that standing with my hand at each deck in life will leave me with no patterned cards after the draw.  And so I write today not to ponder moral and ethical quandaries, as I feel that these structures have been resounded well through my upbringing and I have the remainder of my life to fulfill those standards by which I was taught to embrace (with reasonable sense behind each act).  However, I wonder sometimes what more can I be with this seemingly single-shot revolver of life with one round of ammunition.  We are granted one chance to make our mark (as it may seem from my recollection of the processes of life and death), and each of us a destiny or calling awaits.  What, may I ask is my purpose?  No doubt there are many that live with no perceptible impact on lives at the grander scheme, but can I be one to accept a mortality knowing that some nudge on this earth, be it through friend or (I hope less likely) foe. 

Fragility knocked on my doorsteps today, with a surprise phone call from a friend.  It felt hopeless knowing that nothing I can offer as condolence would suffice to the trembling and bereavement that so despairingly shook me.  It was weakness on my behalf that reason escaped me, yet no perceptible reason could be offered to see sunshine where there were only rain clouds.  I suppose I had lost my gentleness over many grueling months of seclusion from these rampant emotions.  And so I stood and stumbled over words, finding no strategy to calm the raging storm.  I suppose I can say I felt defeated, even as the tears and sobs slowed and gave way to some light banter and perhaps a few chuckles.  I would ill say I can influence someone to see the sun again over such ominous clouds, but it gave my heart great relief to know that perhaps I could, in my mind, absorb this distress like a dried sponge seeking to be wetted again.  That said, I hope that my constitution would ever strengthen in that, when necessitated, I can be called upon as one of foundation and stability through calm or commotion.