Semester Exam

I love reading and writing! So when I am in the process of designing a creative piece or constructing an essay, I am hoping that people will love reading my writing and I myself will deem it lovable.

In order for me to love my own writing, and any writing for that matter, it must include the following three points: It must be intriguing and captivating. It must be pertinent and applicable. And it must be lasting in the minds of the readers.  If these three points have been achieved by the writer I will probably fall in love with the piece I am reading and then there is a very good chance others will too.

When I wrote Black Dahlia these three goals were already in place.

To intrigue and captivate with my story I added realistic details and described them in vivid, rich and dramatic words. I wanted to paint with words and that is what I did, although the most memorable painting was done in the introduction. For this reason the intro is all about intrigue and tension. The first sentence “The night was too serene” grabs the attention of the reader and places certain expectations into his mind, because “too serene” hints at anything but a happy resolution. The description of the silk breeze as it shattered against two dark figures was purposely built on a contrast to heighten the tension, raise the stakes and entice the reader to explore the story deeper. At the end of the introduction so much suspense is built up and the reader is sucked in so deep that withdrawal from the world he has entered will be painful and unsatisfying.

To make my writing pertinent to my readers and to myself, I lined my story with an important truth that applies to everyone. The idea of leaving important decisions off for tomorrow, when your tomorrow is not guaranteed to you is the backbone of Black Dahlia. The idea and my presentation of it, in a real life situation, confront the readers, help them to see themselves from the side and provide them with an opportunity, before it is too late, to change. To make my point clear I used the pastor, as the voice of wisdom, to plainly and simply state vital truths. For example, “You are given today to prepare for tomorrow” and “your tomorrow is not promised to you by anyone”, as well as “the greatest tragedy in life is that we realize things very late in our life and by the time we realize them, it’s too late.”

To make Black Dahlia enduring in people’s minds a combination of things was necessary, captivating language, pertinent ideas, but also a twist, an unexpected climax and leaving the reader with no definite answer. My short, one word sentences aided me in concluding the story without providing a recipe for a long and happy life, challenging the reader to fill in the blanks and write their own recipe.

In Black Dahlia I present an issue of hoping for tomorrow and question the people that turn away opportunities of change, but my trust in the readers, that they will find their own answers for life’s question without me spoon-feeding them, is what welcomes readers into exploring the proposition at hand. I hope that now you also feel trusted and lured into reading more of my writing.  

Poker Face

In Russia we have a saying, “The greeting you receive depends on your clothes, the farewell you get depends on your intellect.” Although the main point is that your intellect is more important than your looks, I think another point lurks deeper. First and surface impressions are often inaccurate, as it takes time and effort to really fathom another person; this is the idea presented here.

Psychological research and experiments don by Princeton psychologists Janine Willis and Alexander Todorov showed that people form a first impression by looking at a stranger’s face in a tenth of a second. This means that in the time it takes us to blink, our brain manages to interpret the face in front of us and come to a conclusion that stays engraved in our mind. Poker face or not, we judge, conclude and act accordingly. Does this prove to be a human super power and lift us up or, on the contrary, the human downfall that drives us over the edge? Whatever you might have been told, a person’s outward appearance is where we get our first, fleeting, but lasting impression. In Crime and Punishment the build, face, clothes and the way characters carry themselves are described in vivid detail. This helps us, as readers, almost visualize a persona we have never seen. Fyodor Dostoevsky uses the outfits, jewelry and hairstyles of his characters to make readers subconsciously form assumptions and conclusions before we actually “meet” the character. He then, as the book progresses, either proves us and your conculsions wrong or right. On the part of Dostoevsky, it is a demonstration of the menace that lies within quick and shallow judgment.

The dangers of hasty judgment in Crime and Punishment are exposed using two polar-opposite characters, Luzhin and Sonya. First off, Luzhin. Respectable, educated and creditable, although somewhat cocky, that is how we see him in the letter Raskolnikov receives from his mother. He is presented pretty much in the same light, when we get to meet him “face to face” in Raskolnikov’s apartment. However, as the story line progresses and circumstances change, his true colors seep out. When we finally see Luzhin for who he is, without all the adornment and garnish that disguised him originally, then we have the right to form and express an opinion concerning him and in turn expect it to hold up under examination. Some would say, “Over the course of the novel Luzhin becomes despicable”. Consider this. He does not become despicable when we realize he is so, but he has been despicable all this time. We were just a bit enchanted or deceived by our first impression of Luzhin.

On the other side of the spectrum we have Sonya. She is living contradiction of Saadi’s words, “Whatever makes an impression on the heart seems lovely in the eye”. Our first encounter with her happens even before we meet her, in the tavern, when Marmeladov describes her to Raskolnikov. She is portrayed by him (in his drunken monologue) as “unfortunate”, a victim of “ill-meaning persons”, and the savior of her family. But we cannot easily take his word on the matter. We have to see her for ourselves, give her a once-over to from our opinion of the girl. When we do meet her “face to face” she is obscene and “adorned in street fashion with a clearly and shamefully explicit purpose” (page 183). The “thin, pale, and frightened little face, mouth open and eyes fixed in terror” (page 183) raises a wave of compassion in us, although this in no way excuses her suggestive appearance. As time goes by, we get our second and third “face to face” encounters with Sonya. During yet another encounter she reads the story of Lazarus to Raskolnikov, and we see an unexpected and unconventional hallo form over her head. Although she is the same person she was before, we finally get to see the real Sonya. We no longer have to go on her looks alone, but get to see her heart and the love that inhabits it. As a result, our opinion on Sonya’s total disgrace and corruption, which formed solely on looks, is transformed and refined. It becomes more accurate, for it is now based not on her shell alone, but on the pearl that lies within.

In conclusion, perhaps you have heard, “Dress to impress”, “You never get a second chance to make a first impression”, or even “The first impression is the truth, and all that follows is merely the excuse of memory”. However, relying on first impressions and sticking to them no matter what, is like judging a book by its cover alone and then never giving it a second glance, thought, or chance to change your life. 

Dress to impress?

A person’s attire and physique is where we get our first, fleeting, but lasting impression. The outward appearances of Crime and Punishment characters in the descriptions are detailed and rather exhaustive. This helps us almost visualize a persona we have never seen. I think Dostoevsky uses the wardrobe, jewelry and hairstyle of his characters to make readers maybe involuntarily, but all the same, make assumptions and conclusions before they actually “meet” the character. He then, as the book progresses, either proves those wrong or right. I think this is done in order to demonstrate the menace of quick and shallow judgment. Characters like Luzhin seem respectable at first glance, but through the novel become despicable. And although the first presentation of Sonya is obscene and “adorned in street fashion with a clearly and shamefully explicit purpose” (page 183), with time we see an unexpected and unconventional hallo form over her.

Yellow- Sun or Sickness?

The color yellow can symbolize many different phenomena. It can symbolize sunshine and happiness, or disease and decay. The way we interpret the color’s meaning depends on the context in which it is being presented. Pages in books acquire a yellow tint with time. Over the years teeth turn yellow. In the cases above and in the context of Crime and Punishment yellow is a color of sickness, decay and degeneration, symptom of entropy. Yellow wall paper is part of the setting in Sonya’s and Raskolnikov’s rooms. Both these are where vile and sickening sins are committed, where prostitution and contemplation of murder take place. The yellow wall paper is noticed by them, and even studied in Raskolnikov’s apartment, but although it needs repair, nobody ever takes the time to fix it. Dostoyevski uses yellow wallpaper to symbolize an unhealthy and corrupt environment that contaminates the minds of its inhabitants. 

St.Pete

The city of Saint Petersburg is an important main character throughout Crime and Punishment. It not only provides the setting and sets the mood for the novel, but it also is a comprehensibly everyday symbol of Raskolnikov’s state of mind. Saint Petersburg, as we read, is rarely portrayed as a pleasant and healthy city to live in, rather as hot, musty, sickening, dirty, crowded, full of different scum and egoistic people. In a way it symbolizes Raskolnikov’s mental stability, we can see this when he gets lost in the city or forgets which streets he takes to make to one of his destinations. I think it is meant to show that he doesn’t understand or remember how he arrived at his conclusions about life and to show that his head, his mind is not a pleasant thing to live with, but rather life with it is pain and a punishment. 

Money

An important symbol in Crime and Punishment is money. Money is an understandable symbol, because every one of the readers has dealt with money and can therefor apply this symbol to themselves. Raskolnikov gives and receives money a couple times during the novel. Every single time the money he possesses is not rightfully his, not money he earned. He has no right to give it away, but he does so anyway. In addition to money, we give to others are our time, attention and love. Money is symbolic of all of these things. Raskolnikov is not the rightful owner of the money he gives out, and we are not rightful owners of our time, but never the less we give and dedicate it to people. Sometimes we cannot see the reason behind our actions, just like Raskolnikov blames his generosity on delirium, however we are appointed to be joyful givers.

Intro to Black Dahlia

When writing this short story, I hoped to create an intriguing setting and realistic dialogue, but more importantly make my readers think about the shortness and preciousness of now. 

The introduction paragraph sets the mood for the rest of the story and entices the reader to keep on reading. Although ambiguous in some aspects, the story progresses and ideas as well as events start to take shape, forming into one picture that makes the story so much more impacting. 

My desire was to make you think and apply some of the ideas from this piece to your personal life, as well as create an electrifying and sensual setting that would suck you into the backseat of the main character’s car. 

I would love to hear your opinion on my story and whether I achieved my goals, so don’t waste another second… Black Dahlia is waiting…

Black Dahlia

The night was too serene. The sounds of the highway were almost inaudible. The stars were out and the silk breeze shattered against two dark figures as they swiftly, but urgently, as if trying to put the events of the night behind them, hurried to the car. The doors opened and shut silently, as if the men did not wish that anyone would know of their presence, or maybe it was just to preserve the stillness of the beautiful and satin night. As the car growled and came to life the spell of mystery was broken.

Once they were on the highway the older man cast his first curt  glance at the younger man, sitting in the passenger’s seat right next to him. Feeling the gaze upon him the young man pressed his lips together, as if stopping all the things he had in his mind from flowing out and instead looked on to the dark and desolated road. It looked like it went nowhere. Both men were tense in the strained silence, although both had different reasons that would not let them verbalize their thoughts and fears. The older did not want to flood the younger with the things he had to say, not words of understanding, but rather of reprimand. He understood that he must say them, because he discerned something in his passenger’s face that cried for words of guidance, help, but even more so, encouragement, that would give him faith in himself and more importantly in the Redeemer. The older man searched his brain for things he learned at the seminary that could bring hope and change in the heart of the unsuccessful lawbreaker that was sitting next to him.

"I am sorry I had to call you tonight, but if I called my parents they would flip out and probably leave me in there. I would rather have you bail me out and then preach at me and try to save my lost soul than face them tonight,” said the passenger, his voice firm and defiant.

The driver, without moving a single muscle, without acknowledging that he heard the young man’s controversial apology, looked ahead. He scrutinized the road. The curves and turns directed him on his way home, promising a safe and restful destination. He was trying to pull his thoughts together.

"You don't have to say anything. I know what you’re thinking. 'Poor boy, is it too late for him? No it can't be, O Jesus my Savior, protect his soul from fiery hell', but this is my life and I do what I want and maybe... someday... if I feel like it, I’ll go out of my way and change. But that won’t be today. There’s always tomorrow, pastor,” continued the young man, dismissively waving his hand, as though that was support enough for his haughty claim. Then, as if he gained his second wind, he straightened out in the passenger seat, adjusted the seatbelt, leaned over and stared the driver in the eye, a challenge in every miniscule muscle movement. “Doesn't your precious book speak only of second chances and hope for the lost, the ones like me? I will have my second chance for as long as I live, so I don't have to decide anything tonight or even anytime soon. What am I like, twenty? My whole life is ahead of me, just like this stupid highway", spat the young man, his face contorting in a grimace of disdain, as he once again glanced onto the road covered in obsidian darkness.

This time the older man could not keep his thoughts in, "You are given today to prepare for tomorrow, and yes, a second chance is promised to all those who repent and come to know the Lord, as well as compassion, love, forgiveness and an eternity with Him, but your tomorrow is not promised to you by anyone."

The younger rolled his eyes and slowly, accenting every word drawled, "Neither was I told that I won’t get a tomorrow. So I will continue to hold to the belief that it is never too late in life to realize and revise". And with that he raised his chin and out of the corner of the eye glanced at the pastor.

Taking a deep breath, and then another, with long pauses in between, the pastor answered, "That is true. But know this: the greatest tragedy in life is that we realize things very late in our life and by the time we realize them, it’s too late".

"You seemed to be of the opinion that it’s never too late to see the light in the distance, the last time you drilled me on the whole salvation and eternal life deal. I’m not easily brainwashed, and you know it, so why should tonight be any different?" parried the passenger, while his voice filled with bewilderment.

"I am not trying to brainwash you. I want to tell you about what I know to be true. I want to show you how it has affected my life and after that I can only pray that you would at least think about it".

"Ok, sir, can we make a deal? I promise to think about it, but you will not bring it up ever again. And then maybe tomorrow something will change... if I feel like it. Tomorrow."

Without waiting for a response, the young man turned to look out the window at the dark shapes of trees that flashed by. His shoulders sagged and his head rested on the cold window, as his breaths condensed on the glass into delicate and detailed patterns. The silence was restored, although neither man felt at ease in this vacuum of conversation.

As the highway headed in to the city... Flash. Car.Swerve. Panic. Collision. Impact. Pain. Darkness. Ocean of pain. Vision obscured by blood. Ghoulish cough. Gasping. Last seconds.

Whisper from the driver seat, "I am not afraid of death because I am certain that God is already there, waiting to welcome me. Are you?"

Blackness. Cold. Numbness. Dawn. But for some it is too late to see the light in the distance.

Vital Balance

Suspense. Adrenaline. Action. Are these not the most important ingredients that make up a thrilling and capturing novel, movie or play. This weekend I went to see a movie like that, but by the end realized that it just fell flat. It did not plunge. It did not soar. It did not plummet. And it did not rocket. It was just flat and empty, although it possessed thrilling action scenes. It was dry because the movie made no point, did not bring forth a thought and did not have a theme that tied the whole movie into one and breathed life into it.

Macbeth on the other hand is a rollercoaster ride, that takes our breath away, makes us curious to see what we will encounter after another turn and the reason for this, is the fact that it is penetrated with so many themes, thoughts, points and purposes. One of the themes that I found interesting and applicable to me personally, partially because I did a big part of my AP English work on it, is balance.

The theme of balance in Macbeth is presented using the contrast between the unreasonable and sociopathic Macbeth and the sensible and consistent Banquo and Macduf. When Macbeth is facing a choice he sees only two solutions: all or nothing. Macbeth does not adapt to the situation he is placed in, he cannot find compromise, because he forgets about the existence of compromise or misinterprets compromising as settling for something that is beneath him. For example, Macbeth wants all the prophecies (become thane of two cities and king as well) to come true. He is not content upon receiving his second title, he is not satisfied knowing that he could have more, he cannot reason and see what is good for him and reasonable to accept and what things he should just lay aside. In another case, Macbeth wants to be king and safely thus, or not at all. First of all, this is something he should have thought about before committing regicide, secondly if he sees that he is in a insecure position he should value his safety and flee for his life. But again he is not able to balance his priorities, find the golden middle and eventually this costs him his life.

Although Banquo is another character that loses his life in the duration of the book, but at least he did not assign the death penalty to himself. He finds balance in his life, is content and satisfied with himself, so when he hears the prophecy about his kids becoming kings, he makes a levelheaded decision to leave it to be and let it worry about itself.

Another character that shows sound judgment and a balanced mind is Macduf. Although he desperately wants and needs Malcolm to fight, he decides to fighting just with his own strength which could cost him his life and many other men's lived, when he learns of all Malcolm's "vices", rather than saying "fight with Malcolm or not fight at all".

Although both Banquo and Macduf suffer and go through many hardships, they are the ones to live and to die in a sane state of mind, content, satisfied and balanced, while as Macbeth, who gets to be king and possess great power, lacks the art of balancing and weighing decisions and dies insane, terrified, desperate and deserted. 

Are You Informed?

"The service and the loyalty I owe

In doing it pays itself. Your highness' part

Is to receive our duties, and our duties

Are to your throne and state children and servants,

Which do but what they should, by doing everything

Safe toward your love and honor." (Act 1, Scene 4)

The deception in Macbeth’s words is quite apparent once you remember the thoughts he was having just a couple pages ago, as he witnesses the first of the witches’ prophesies come true. He has imagined himself king and believes that now that this has been promised to him it must he what he deserves according to his merits. As these thoughts fill his head, we can with certainty deduct that he develops antipathy to the present king, Duncan, who is sitting on Macbeth’s throne-to-be and stealing the precious and priceless minutes of his reign. Hearing words of praise from a dislikable person stirs up distaste and hostility in the listener whether he is a just a kid or Macbeth himself. When feelings of despise feel one, his answer will be, no matter how sugar-coated or savory they sound, will have ugly sub-contexts buried underneath that rot with time and make the words with time reveal themselves as mockery. Macbeth’s words sound reverent, humble and pleasing to Kings Duncan’s ego, because they build him up, exalt him above humdrum mortals and largely because he is ignorant of the thoughts and images the witch prophecy stirred in Macbeth. Obviously Kind Duncan’s bait, which caught him on the lethal hook of treachery and deception, is flattery. And this made me wonder, “What is my bait that will attract me to the deadly hook?” and I hope it makes you wonder, “WHAT IS YOUR BAIT?” Because as one reporter said, "You can either be informed and your own rulers or you can be ignorant and have someone else, who is not ignorant, rule over you."

Paradox or Not? That is the Question!

“Nothing is what it is not”, said Macbeth. Was he being profound or deceived? Did he know what he was talking about or was he sputtering nonsense? Upon this depends whether this is a paradox or an equivocation, whether he is uttering truths or speaking lies.

I think that what Macbeth is talking about is his present state, the fact that he finds his illusions, fruits of his imagination, more real and relevant than the real and physical things around him. He finds meaning and great pleasure not in the things that exist in reality,which he can actually obtain, but in those that exist in his mind only and are unreachable for him. At this moment he realizes this vice and admits to himself that lives in the imaginary terrain. This means he is speaking truth when utters these famous words. Therefore the words of Macbeth are a paradox.

This paradox carries a deeper meaning that you can discover when you transfer these words out of these specific consequences in to everyday life. In everyday life we dream and fantasize of things that might seem unrealistic, but they are so much more enjoyable and entertaining. As long as we stay realistic and hold on to the truth and reality and not let our fantasies rule our actions, we should be safe and sane. 

Anxiety, Agony and Acknowledgments

Black and white are not the only colors in this world, there is also gray and further more different shades of gray. This makes it harder to evaluate an absolute and fitting answer to every question and a response to every situation. Many answers depend on the circumstances there are to be found in and many responses depend on the time and motivation that stand behind them.

In this case I do not know much about capital punishment, the means that are used and the circumstances that bring people to the gurney, the only thing I have to go on is parts of the movie we watched yesterday (Into the Abyss) and the opinions that were presented there. Being not very well informed can hinder a person and the opinion they form, but I will do the best I can with what I have been given. This is why I have to agree with the reverend that was featured in the beginning of the movie and admit, “I don’t know”.

In this position, where I see the pain, sickness, misery and people that do not know what their purpose in life is, I kind of feel like Joseph, from the story about the rainbow-colored coat. Joseph had to encounter many challenges, such as being sold in to slavery by his brothers, serving the Potiphar and sitting in prison, so the only thing that was left for him was to trust God. In the end he was rewarded and fulfilled a great purpose the Lord had in mind for Joseph,  that he himself could not have imagined. So when I am in the position where I cannot fathom the reason for the things that are happening around me, I place my faith in God and hand over my anxiety, agony and acknowledge that I can do all things only in Him.

The truth is that some things our mind cannot understand and does not have the capacity to comprehend, for example God allowing children to suffer and die of things such as cancer or ALS. I have had my share of questions about the evil and pain that are in the world and I have asked God, “Why?”, but I will not receive an answer to every question and will not have a complete understanding of every issue in today’s world. I do not know why God allows capital punishment, the New Testament does not teach anything on the specific issue of capital punishment in modern day life, but it does teach that God loves the world; he is involved in the lives of people and cares for them deeply, he wants a relationship with each one of us through his son Jesus Christ in order to offer us forgiveness and love, so this is what I hold on to, because this is what I know for certain. 

Hoping, Needing, Growing

The offer to ponder how I would like to grow this year brought me to the following realization: the opportunity of growth that is presented to me in HCA and in British(ish) Literature, as well as all my other classes, is of infinite value and in itself a great blessing. So since I am blessed with this opportunity I must try my best to make most of it and so to do so I, in the end put together a list of what directions of growth are very important to me this year.

First of all, I would like to obtain an understanding of the great thinkers of the past that I will come across this year (Jane Austin, Charlotte Bronte, Dostoyevsky, etc.), as well as their challenges. However I also hope to receive encouragement and advice from the authors who are, hands down, more experienced than I. I hope to grow in this way, because it will give me a chance to learn from the mistakes of others and not make them all myself or, in other cases, give me a model to follow, so that I don’t have to figure out this tangled web of life around me while relying on my own abilities and experiences. Secondly, I hope that this class and all the participants will refine beliefs that I already hold, and help me become certain in what I believe. This is important for me this year, because I am imperfect and not all knowing, however this will help me get a little closer to the unreachable ideal. Thirdly, I wish to grow in my appreciation for the time I live in and the progress our society has made, since the middle ages or even just a hundred years ago. This is vital to me in everyday life and all my relationships, because very often I take my “now” for granted, but instead I would like to be grateful for the blessings I receive. I also pray that this course will make me more sensitive to those that have not been as blessed as I have been in their upbringing. This is and will be crucial in the future, because this habit will help me be compassionate, which will give me another tool to share Christ's love and forgiveness. Through the great literature and abundant discussions we will be having in Brit Lit I hope to learn to see more clearly God's hand in my life and become more thankful that he is a loving and involved God, which will help me strengthen my relationship with my Creator and trust in him at all times in my life. And last, but certainly not least, I wish to learn more about great authors and beautiful novels that teach and entertain, because I think it is fun and I greatly enjoy reading.

          But just as any plant needs water, soil and light to grow I need the right conditions in order to develop and flourish. I need to be told the truth and corrected when I am wrong, but also I need to be given time and space to process the truths and opinions that will be presented by my classmates, Mr.O and the authors that we will be reading. I need to be directed and refined by others that will be attending and contributing in our class, as Proverbs 27:17 says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” I need to be given time and space to express myself and my opinions (what a wonderful thing that we have blogsJ). Another important thing that will be necessary to stimulate my growth is a smart, funny and caring teacher like Mr.O or even better Mr.O himself!

My Growth Spurt This Year

Before I start, I would like to note that growing does not always mean learning something new, sometimes it means validating and becoming more assured in the things you believe. So this year, although I learned more about individuality, self-worth and justice than I thought there is to know, I think the most important thing that happened to me, is that I became more certain of the things I have known and believed before, whether by experiencing and thinking about them on a deeper level or by expanding my perspective.

I knew that parents are great blessings from God, which are not to be taken for granted, but treasured and their wisdom is worth attending to. This year while reading Things Fall Apart I grew in my certainty that God gives us parents to teach us how to live, and came to understanding that we are also to learn from them, from their virtues and vices, accept them and be thankful for them and to them. Okonkwo’s tragic example reaffirmed me in the fact that I should not resent my parents for the way they are, but to love them and thank them for doing everything in their ability and bringing me up so that I might become the person God wants me to be.

I knew that God is good and all his plans are for my prosperity. This year while I was reading The Plague, while being convicted with the darker side of life and the small amount of explanation and justification that we can think of in our small human minds for the torment and woes we experience, I reinvigorated my belief in the majesty, power, stability and unsurpassing wisdom and care of God for me and all human kind.

I strengthened in my belief in the necessity of second chances and forgiveness and began unraveling the mystery humanness and humbleness while reading about the Bishop in Les Miserables. While reading about Cossette’s affliction in the Thenardier household and Nora’s predicament with being a trinket of her husband, while aspiring to have worth and respect from others, I rejuvenated my belief in the importance of understanding others and valuing them not as “creatures”, but as masterpieces created in the image of a perfect God

I could not have been more blessed this year in this class. World Literature, through which Mr. O was my guide, gave me answers and questions, time and deadlines, freedom in creativity and restrictions in length, protection and exposure, to make me stronger, more sensitive and help me be affirmed in my convictions and the Truth that I know. 

Unified in Misery

What do you believe in? Who do you trust? What is the reality you live in? The answers to these questions hold on the main keys to discovering one’s personal identity. But even these questions, that play such a great role in our lives and self-identification, are affected by the values we hold to and those are affected by our unique experiences. But there an experience that unites us all together, there is something that each person, no matter who they are, no matter where they are, feels. You might have guessed what it is, but if you didn’t then it is loneliness, rejection and misery. Every one of us experiences those unpleasant emotions, and although this is uncomforting to hear, there is no way of escaping them. They are a consequence of our lives on this imperfect planet and more importantly, our sins.

            Every character in the book had a time when they felt forsaken and refused to be accepted by either the society as a whole or by certain individuals specifically, just like everyone does in real life. The questions that come up next are: “What does this experience mean?”, “What do we do with this experience?” Feeling lonely and miserable does not identify you as unacceptable, useless or worthless, but it rather signifies that you are normal and possess a reaction to neglect, depravity, intolerance, as well as to being excluded, over looked or treated unjustifiably, that is typical to everyone. What needs to be realized in this process is that although bad things happen to us, it is not always a result of our mistakes, but rather the result of the imperfect world we live in. This means that we should look to someone who is above this world and someone who has “overcome the world” (John 16:33) and that is Jesus Christ. If we do not choose to do this then as Grantaire said, “There is nothing for us to believe in. Drink is the only reality”.

As we can see, the decision to look to Christ comes only if we have a firm grasp and a clear recognition of our value and worth, for it is said we are “God's chosen ones, holy and beloved”( Colossians 3:12-14), “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows” (Luke 12:6-7), ““I will never leave you nor forsake you”( Hebrews 13:5). 

If God loves, values and tells you about it, how can you let anyone or anything convince you otherwise?

Value in Personality

After five hundred eighty six pages of Les Mis, the theme of a person’s worth is still a major part of the book and still makes me think more deeply about it. This time I focused on a different quote, about a different person, but that has direct connection to every other part of the book, “having the good sense, while very conscious of the royal blood in his veins, to value himself at his true worth”. This is speaking of the French king, Louis- Philippe, and how he did not find the source of his value in his ancestry. Previously I stressed the point that we must, in order to be fulfilled and fulfill others, treasure ourselves, but this is when the question arises. When comes the moment to reject some of the value placed in us, by those around us? In this quote, after going over it for some time, I found the answer.

A king is usually seen as a person that had great worth and great importance, just because he is king. The quote above on the other hand is talking about the true worth of a king. What the quote explains to us is that Louis-Philippe valued himself for who he was, not what he was. He did not root his value in his “divine right”, but rather in himself, as an individual. He saw his worth not in the title that he received because he was born into a family that was entitled to do so, but in the person became through his choices, hard work and perseverance.  

We as humans should treasure ourselves for who we are, but sometimes we decide that our value is greater than that of another person because we look better, study harder or know more. This is a big mistake and in this case we need to catch ourselves and instead follow the example of the French king. We should remember what our true worth is in, it is in Christ our Lord, in our Redeemer. We also have to be vigilant not to treat others as less deserving of love, compassion and admiration, just because of the circumstances of their birth or life.  

Accepting and Forgiving... YOURSELF

More pages, more letters and more ideas. One of the main ideas I faced this past week during the reading of Les Mis is acceptance. However, this acceptance is not talking only and mostly about being understanding and tolerant of others, but being able to accept yourself. Being able to accept who you are. This type of acceptance is even more vital in our everyday lives than the acceptance of others, because if you cannot love yourself and forgive yourself, then there is no chance that you will be able to do this for others. This is not the only reason we should accept ourselves. If you cannot accept yourself, you cannot live your life on Earth in peace and do not have a chance to find joy and completion. You also might very well, rob those around you of happiness.

The two examples that prove this statement both come from the books sophomores read this year, Things Fall Apart and Les Misérables. The first example, from the first book, is Okonkwo, a person of power and influence in one of the tribes in Nigeria. His father was poor, lazy and never repaid his debts. Okonkwo, although a grown up man, was not be able to accept his father and was not able to accept that he is father’s son. Throughout the book we see him trying to run away from his heritage and trying to escape from the man he knows himself to be. I am not going to spoil the book for you, so I will just say that Okonkwo, his family and his tribe suffer horribly, because Okonkwo cannot accept himself. On the other hand we have Jean Valjean from Les Misérables. He knows himself to be a convict and a thief. He remembers that he robbed the one man that showed him compassion and a small boy that had to earn his living. He struggles with himself and his criminal past. However, eventually, he is able to accept and forgive himself, as well as gain wisdom from the hard circumstances he goes through. Because of the forgiveness that lives in him, he goes on with life. He applies the things he learned in his hardships and through this brings prosperity to a whole region of France, as well as makes life better for all those around him. He brings salvation to those in need of material things and to those in need of a second chance.

This demonstrates how important it is to accept and forgive ourselves. Every one of us should be ready for the missteps that we will, with no doubt, make, but we also must be ready to forgive ourselves for them. No one is perfect, but our mistakes provide a step for us to rise higher, become better and wiser. If we are ready to accept ourselves for who we really are others will be too.

Worth in the Image of God

Another week of reading Les Mis has passed and as it passed it left me with more questions and more thoughts on things I did not dwell on before.  Another quote has struck me and made me think, “… he is dealing with such wary animals as a wolf or a convict”.  What causes the speaker to view this certain individual unworthy of being called a human being? When are people compared to animals and why this often can be offensive? And when we are compared to animals, why does this hurt our feelings? And since it does, what is the difference between us and animals?

Well first of all, the convict mentioned in this quote is Jean Valjean and he was imprisoned for nineteen years for stealing a loaf of bread and a couple of escape attempts. This is what he had done to lose the “privilege” of being referred to as human. But did these actions actually diminish his humanness? No. He is still a man created in the image of God. He is still, no matter what loved by God and nothing can change this. Yes, he did steal and stealing is a sin, but he is still a child of God. This is one of the reasons the Theory of Evolution is twice as bad, as it seems at first glance. The first claim evolution makes is that there is no God and that all of creation was a mere accident. But it also claims that we, humans, are accidents and have evolved from apes. A belief like this takes away from a man’s uniqueness and diminished the full meaning and worth of a man, in the image of God.

Men are usually compared to animals or called animals when displaying behavior others deem unworthy of a human or because they once behaved that way and now that cannot be forgotten. This comparison is offensive, because everyone deep down inside knows that there is something important and crucial that separates us from animals. This crucial difference is that we were created in the image of God. We are created in God’s image and we can have a relationship with our Creator. This is the reason we take offense in being compared to an animal of any kind and even those who might not believe that we were created in God’s image, feel the truth of this statement echo in all their being once they have been called a “dog” or a “donkey”.

Hey Mr.O, I've Got Something to Say and Language in which to Say it!

                                                           Best Paper                    
                                                  Serving Truth Right

Would you like to live all your life without light, surrounded only by darkness and traps that you stubble into one by one, because you cannot see the right and safe path? This is what awaits anyone who lives his life without the truth, in captivity of lies. For others this fruitless life can be pushed upon them, when those surrounding them tell them the truth, but in a deleterious way- this will drive the listeners to insanity. So the following question arises: how should we share the truth with our loved ones, in order to help them live a life full of light and love? By looking at the symbols of the two different synagogues and their lighting, in chapters 7 and 18 of The Chosen, we can answer this question, and see that the way truth is taught and the environment in which the truth is taught, greatly affect an individual, as well as his life now and in the future; this is important because the knowledge of this issue is crucial, in order for us to live a thrilling life and see our loved ones blessed with joy.

The eagerness with which one strives to know the truth and his ability to accept it, greatly depends on the way the truth is served to the individual, whether one will enjoy it or hate it. A quote from chapter can serve as a great metaphor, “the naked light bulbs seemed ugly”(280). Once you think about it deeper you realize the depth of this statement. First you must imagine that you have been living with electricity your whole life, but if it goes out during the night you are pinned to one spot not daring to move. Once the light goes on you are filled with relief and a sense of peace. From this example we can conclude that light and any lamp that shades it, is a wonderful thing that brings comfort in darkness. So what does it take for a light bulb to start looking ugly? The fact that the light bulb is naked plays the main role. The presentation of truth as a light bulb is profound and substantial, because it clearly illustrates that if truth is exposed to someone nakedly, with no love, compassion or sympathy, it is agonizing for them, just like a light bulb with no lamp shade will burn the eyes of anyone who looks up at it. This proves that the way truth is unmasked before someone is what will either reconcile or destroy a person’s life, and maybe not the truth itself.

The environment in which we receive the truth can affect our welcome for it, much more than the truth we receive itself. In The Chosen two types of the synagogues are described. The first type is “…badly lighted, musty rooms, with benches or chairs crowded together and with windows that seemed always to be closed…”(112), and the second type, the one Reuven goes to, is described as follows: “… a large grocery store…, the sun shown in through the uncurtained portion of the glass, and I loved to sit there on a Shabbat morning, with the gold of the sun on the leaves of my prayer book, and pray”(112). Each of these two synagogues represents an environment in which truth can be taught to an individual. In the symbol of first synagogue and the light in it we can see that even though truth is taught, there isn’t enough light, which in this passage, is a symbol for love, present in order for the truth to have a positive effect in a person’s life. We can also see that the synagogue does not provide enough space, which can be seen as a metaphor for spiritual space, for an individual to assimilate truth and incorporate it into their lives. In comparison with the first synagogue, Reuven’s synagogue is a large, spacious room, which has plenty of light. Sitting and praying in this synagogue brings joy and satisfaction to Reuven. This is not only because of the physical characteristic described above, but because there is enough love demonstrated in the environment, as well as emotional and spiritual space to meet the needs of Reuven, to give him freedom to accept the tough and troublesome truth of the world that surrounds him. In all of this we can clearly see, that the setting in which the truth is presented to us, might have a greater impact than the truth in its essence.

The understanding of the concept that the way truth is laid out and the environment in which this is done, might have more lasting effects, for the person, than the truth, which is revealed. This concept is pivotal in how we share the truth with those around us, and will define whether or not we bring healing to those we love and care about. The concept is essential for us if we want to be witnesses of Christ’s love and compassion, not the society’s mockery and indifference. All of us have to make the decision to apply this to our lives and afterward live joyously, as well as bring joy and comfort to others. The sooner we make this decision, the brighter we can shine and more significantly impact those who desperately need our help. What is more important is that this concept, if we choose to live it out, will make us more like Christ. That is what our goal as Christians is, therefore, this concept, if acted upon, will help us succeed in the purpose God gave us. 

Sacred in Christ

Well, this week I started reading Les Miserables. It is a great book and has many important, vital things to think about and discuss in the classroom or with friends, since they are applicable to all of us. One of these things was a quote that I did not really talk over with anyone, but that stuck in my mind and I have not been able to silence it in my mind ever since, it is as follows: “Nothing being sacred to him, he had taken up smoking”. For some reason this stuck with me, so I thought more in depth about it. This quote is talking about a fellow named Tholomyes, who is an example of a person you could have seen walking down the street back then in France and a person you can see walking down the street today in Russia. A type of person that has been disappointed in life, mankind or society, therefore not able to see the value behind a person and a person’s life. None of the things that had disappointed him he found sacred and worthy of the struggle to keep them in good condition, so he gave up, he gave up on others and since he was disappointed in himself, he gave up on himself. He gave up on trying to be good, trying to save goodness and worthiness in himself and stopped believing that there is goodness and selflessness in others. He did not see any value in his life and health, which is why he started smoking.  After experiencing disappointments and let downs he lost track of his personal worth and the worth of others. When Tholomyes gave up on himself, he did not only hinder himself, but his girlfriend Fantine too. He not only ruined his only real shot at happiness and meaning in life, but deprived her of that as well. So think about it and think about it hard before giving up on yourself, because you will cripple not only yourself, but those around you too.

Today I started praying that people would not forget, and those that do not know, would learn that they are worthy. You and I are worthy of love, compassion, sacrifice, forgiveness and second chances. I also plead with everyone not to give up on themselves, no matter what and no matter who. I plead with you not to discard yourself, even when others do, because you are priceless. You and I were bought with the blood of the Son of Man and if he did not discard us, what right do we have to throw ourselves away?

Plague Chronicle

194-, Spring

Freedom! Independence! Oh, how I dreamt of these things through all those months we spent in the locked down and plague poisoned Oran.

            As the deaths kept decreasing in number and plague seemed to ebb away, hope returned to me and my parents. I have to say things have been getting better between us, whether the reason is the talk we had or the decline of deaths and the state of peril we are in, but either one makes me happy enough. So, since hope returned to my parents they decided to take action and get us out of the town, although I was certainly confused why. The plague was dying out and our lives were no longer in danger, but they planned our trip thoroughly and made sure I knew that we were to start as soon as the “iron curtain” came falling down. At first I felt something stir in me, like I didn’t want to go and leave my friends and my school, but then I realized that things would not be the same anyway. My friends would no longer be the naïve, ignorant and unconcerned about their lives as before, although on the surface I doubt they will change, something underneath will, just like it did in me. I also clearly understood that every street and every shop on my way to school and back would remind me of the horrors I did not want to relive again, so I did not argue with my parents on this one and tried to cooperate.

            As soon as the people were one again allowed to travel as we wished, my parents and I left for the docks. Our tickets for the big steamship were bought ahead of time, so we had no trouble boarding and arranging our luggage. As I sat on the ship and looked at Oran, I realized that my life will never be the same, because of the move and new place we would live in, but also because of what happened over the past year and what we lived through.

On board the ship when we were crossing the Alboran sea over to the peace and comfort of Spain, I sat and wondered what would happen if the ship sank. Ships sink all the time and everywhere, but what a waste it would be if I sunk here and now. My drowning would mean that all that suffering, pain and hardships I went through during plague would have no meaning. But on the other side, people are always dying and suffering, the only thing that changes is the set of the stage on which we all act. At one time or another, our performances, plays, comedies or tragedies will end. They will end the same way. The only thing we can hope for is to learn something from the ordeals we go through and refine ourselves in a way that might bring a peace into our lives and contentment with the life we lived. This is what I hope for sitting on the window seat of our two story house in Almeria, Spain miles from Oran, a town that conceivably taught me something, but that is yet to be resolved.  

Plague Chronicle

Winter 194-

Well the most recent event, the one that took most of the town by surprise is the decreased count of deaths in the weekly Monday announcement. This is a development I could not have foreseen. Some say it is the result of the advanced winter weather. However prior to the announcement I noticed something, something that has not been seen in a while, a rat. In all fairness, I did not see the actual creature, but how could I confuse its scratching sounds with anything else.

Another modification has made my life also more pleasing and lighter; this change however was not brought about by the weather, but by an act that required boldness and courage on my part, as well as belief in a change to the better. As I have said before life has become more pressured after the coming of the plague, under my parents’ watchful eyes. I noticed that although on the outside everything looked peaceful and calm, my insides were about to burst from all the tension and ridiculously unfair restrictions. My parents explained that I had to follow the rules they made, so that I might not get sick with plague and therefore live, but I already felt dead, dead from the inside. I felt dead because I could not make a choice on my own, could not think without my parents’ interfering in the process, could not feel joy, comfort or peace or even fear, for even that was forced out of my organism by the amount of pressure my parents put on me. I felt dead and numb. That was when I realized that I have kept the truth of this feeling inside myself and had not taken one step to change it, but rather to avoid or escape it. I was frustrated over my parents’ never ceasing, feverish control, but never once have I shared this feeling and let them know that it was something that was killing me. As soon as this realization struck I realized that the solution is an upfront confrontation of the problem. I made the decision to change something or at least try, to make the atmosphere in the house lighter.

Since my parents were in the living room, I got up and walked over to where they sat. I asked if they had a moment, instantly I dozen of questions were asked about my wellbeing and my obedience to the new set rules, I assured my parents I have obeyed every word and went on to say, “Mother, Father I need to reveal how all the new rules and the questions make me feel. They make feel like a prisoner, a criminal in a prison. Even my breathing feels restrained. I cannot enjoy a second of my presence in this house and near you, because the pressure is unbearable. I was mad about this for a while and because you didn’t seem to do anything about it, but I hope that now since you know how I feel about this, known the truth about what these rules and restrictions affect me, something will change and I will be able to enjoy the life I have, although it might not be the life that I want”. For a moment my bold and rather long, in comparison to the past couple of weeks, speech took them by surprise, but then I saw their eyes widen. I could see that what I have said finally made sense to them. After another short pause my parents started nodding and this gave way to a log conversation of sharing the truth of our feelings. I then explained what could be done in order to lighten the pressure I felt and my parents promised to discuss this between themselves.

This came as a surprise to me, for I didn’t even hope for a quick change, but I guess this just proved to me that the more knowledge we have about a situation the faster or better the results can turn out. Knowledge about a situation can give any participating side a way to make the situation healthier for another participator, if, of course, the knowledge is acted upon. This brought me to think that maybe this epidemic will give us more knowledge about the plague, so that next time we could heal it faster or avoid it all in all, and then maybe this will have a purpose. Although for now, the decreasing numbers of deaths do not provide enough hope for a quick end of the nightmare we are still living in.  

Plague Chronicle

End of May, June and July

Some say ignorance is bliss, but I would have to disagree. Although after the announcement of the plague Oran was closed down and now neither I nor anyone else can move an inch outside the city boarder, at least I have an understanding and an explanation for the eerie things that happened in the beginning of spring. I am no more paralyzed with fear after every step I make, and finally every time I do not have to look at my parents and think that this might be the last time I see them. I know that I will have time to say good bye before they leave me forever, or on the contrary, I will have the chance to bid them farewell.

In the past couple of weeks after the announcement that Plague has hit our quiet and boring town my parents morphed from the busy and neglective type, to the type of parents that watch your every step and make sure I do not even sneeze without their knowledge. I cannot leave the house without going through the “Spanish inquisition”, reassuring them, that I do know that my life and their life is in danger and promising not to do anything foolish and thoughtless. Actually I do not have anywhere specific to go, but my goal is to get out of the house that has this resistant atmosphere. I cannot take a deep breath or think anything freely anymore, for I feel the weight of my parent’s sudden and surprising anxiety about my near future or my near future death. I would prefer that they fret over themselves and their lives than more about mine, for every second of worrying and fright seems to kill a little bit of us from inside. Although I realized that sometimes there is no wall to stop ourselves from worry, that might in the end kill us faster than the actual plague, for there is no known to mankind cure against anguish and apprehension.

So some fear keeps controlling my life, although now my fear is not of the unknown disaster that has hit my life and my town but, a fear of isolation, losing contact with the outside world and being so behind, as to not be able to catch up ever again. I fear that with skipping school I might never catch up to become an engineer, as was my dream from the time I can first remember myself. During the night, as I lay in the quiet and in the “safety” of my bed, I can hear the screams of the people that are taken to quarantine and the doctors’ promises that this is the best chance another victim the plague has to survive. I dream and in my nightmares see myself screaming my head off, after realizing that I am the next to be put in the capture of quarantine.

School has been cancelled, so now I sit at home and when I cannot stand another second after going through questioning I give my parents the false reason of my leaving “the safest place for me” right now. The reason varies from seeing friends, who are now not allowed to leave their rooms to getting another book, that I would not be able to read because of the pressure I feel anytime around my parents to going out to look for a lost bracelet, that I did not own in the first place. But once I actually get out of the restrictions of my house, I have nothing better to do than roam the streets and watch the people walk by, look at their faces and imagine what life that lead, back when the minds of people were filled with the next best way to make money, and what modification the plague brought into their previously tasteless lives. The pastern I noticed interests me greatly, for after the official announcement of the plague the people on the streets where mostly in a hurry or on the contrary, made each step with giving it so much though and wasting so much energy on the thinking process, that a six-cylinder car could easily use all the energy to make it from here all the way to USSR with no trouble. These were the type that had nowhere to go and no one to worry about. I knew this for a fact, for some of them I followed just to get a taste of the old stale life I lead before. The faces of the Hurriers (the ones who had somewhere to be) usually showed trepidation and alarm, their lips drawn tightly together, as they imagined what horrible news could await them at home. I observed that the Fuelers (those that could provide the fuel for a car by just thinking about their next step) had blank faces and vacant eyes, as if the humanness, or maybe it was their sanity, was gone. However this all changed for a while when people heard that the serum would soon be here, people wore smiles more naturally than ever before, for the smiles came deep from beneath where hope still lived, hope for salvation from the plague and I know that even I wore that smile for a while, for I was aware of that warm healing of hope inside me. But soon the smiles were not worn, but pasted, as everyone lost hope after the numbers of death climbed higher and higher. The only sweet moments where those when our city was contacted by others, and they sent their encouragements and sympathy, but even this soon turned in to a bitter and hopeless thing, for the people on the outside where of the opinion that we are to remote for any real action to be taken and that isolation was the only way. This wiped the smile off my face and all the stupid fairytale endings for my life out of my heart. 

Plague Chronicle

End of April, 194-

Well, I don’t know how to start this, since I have never written anything of this sort before, but the things that are happening around here, things that have never happened in our town, things that chill your blood, because they do not have an explanation. You are petrified for you cannot know, whether you might be in the center of the weird happenings next. First I did not notice all the losses and abnormalities, but now it has been becoming more obvious to me that something vile and atrocious is happening. I am growing worried, for I have no idea what will happen next and whether it could harm me and my loved ones in any way.

I am a teenage girl from Oran, a province of France in Africa. Although the European countries have been fighting over this region and our city for quite a while, now it is peaceful under the rule of the French. I have to admit, until these haunting and perplexing deaths started happening, Oran was too peaceful for my taste. Nothing new ever happened here, life felt stale. It was always the same old people, routs, weather, occurrences, the same cycle of a person’s birth, life and death. Many kids in my class have already forgot how to have fun and now prefer following in the steps of their parents, following their routines, for they are scared to mess up their lives, but for me, I rather make my own mistakes, although I do believe in learning on the mistakes of others. One of the things I learned from my parents is not to work all the time and obsess about the income, since I see how this obsession of earning more money makes me feel neglected and forgotten, for my parents are gone most of the day and often do not get home until midnight.

The first memory I have of something happening out of the ordinary was in mid-April. Back then I was oblivious that something bigger and more dangerous was brewing under the surface. I remember that dead rats were found in ones and twos on the bus I take to school, at school, as well as on the staircase landing at our house and many other houses as well. Then things started getting worse, rats were no longer found in ones and twos, but in dozens and no longer in small buildings and private places, but now on the streets, in warehouses and factories. As days went by, the amount of dead rats everywhere continued increasing and the people started dealing with the little corpses. The rats were gathered in piles and taken to be dispose of. As I walked down the street I was rather nonchalant, for I didn’t believe that anything could shatter the indifferent routine of my everyday life. Oh how wrong was I! But then without warning the rats disappeared. Sure once or twice another dead rat was found on the street, but even those soon vanished. That is when our neighbor got sick. He was a young and healthy man that went by Baudin.  Once or twice we invited him for dinner, for as an only child, my parents tried to find someone I could pester rather than them and distract them from their ever sacred work. I also believe that another reason for my parent’s invitation was that Baudin was a starting municipal officer and was having money problems. My parents believed that if he died of starvation, we his neighbors, would not look good. So after I came home on April 26, I picked up some bread that my mother bought for Baudin and went next door to give it to him. When I walked up to his door there was a note saying that he is sick and waiting for the doctor and as he is resting, he does not wish to be disturbed, so I left the bread under his door and went to my room. In four days after reading the note on his door, Baudin died. My parents informed me of this and explain that he had a fever and abscesses on his body, as well as some black patches on his legs and arms. For the next couple of days nothing happened, but much less children and teachers showed up for classes. The rumor had it that they were sick with the fever and had to stay home in order to recover.

But today I realized I was wrong, things have been happening and although I do not know what exactly, something is obviously awakening from a long sleep. While walking from school through a small arch, far from the main street I came across a paper hanging on the wall. It said, “ There have been cases of sever fever in Oran  and it is not yet known to the authorities of Oran whether it is contagious or not, but in order to prevent any epidemic these precautions should be followed.” It then went to describe how more rats would be killed (why? Didn’t already enough of them die?) and then there was a list of all the precautions that were necessary to take to protect oneself from any chance of catching the fever. What terrified me was the part about anyone being sick with the fever would be isolated in special hospital wards, and although sometimes my parents are neglecting I love and care for them, as they do for me, so I would not like to leave them and in addition it would be miserable to be isolated from my classmates because of some fever. The last phrase on the paper made my heart stop. It said, “Anyone who has been in contact with any human sick with the fever should go and consult the sanitary inspector and unconditionally do whatever you are told, in order to make sure the fever is not spread”. I remembered that day I stopped by the Baudin’s door and that the symptoms he had, were the same ones listed in this paper. After I ripped the paper of the wall and ran all the way home, I came into my room. Now I am laying on top the bed rereading the paper trying to figure out more details of the eerie occurrences that have so far happened. I am terrified to breath a word to my parents, because I fear that the story might come spilling out and that might result in my isolation and separation from all those I know. The thing that terrifies me the most is that I don’t understand what is happening, I do not understand what this fever is and I do not understand what the presence of this fever might mean for my daily routine. Although I complained about the routine quite often, now I see that I am not ready to pay such a high price to experience anything I longed for. I sit and hope and pray that life will go back to the boring, monotonous flow of the same events, same streets and classrooms, for although I suffered of boredom and craved adventure, I was safe and sure of the reality, people and indestructability of life as I knew it.