Friendship is unnecessary.

I've been preaching a particular theme for this month that I've decided to start my blog, and interestingly enough, I came across a quote that ties friendship with reason to live the lives that we do, one that came from C. S. Lewis, or Jack, as he was nicknamed. I believe I now have the incentive to preach that we shouldn't take any amount of value in our lives for granted.


"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival."

C. S. Lewis


On a separate, but related, note, I found this quote highly entertaining:


"I don't need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better."

Plutarch (a Greek philisopher)

A Story of a Lesson

"I was born to live. No, that's not true. I was born to do whatever the hell I was born to do. It's a gut thing, you know what I'm sayin'?"
"I'm not sure you know what you mean."
"Is that right? What about you, what were you born for?"
"I was born, just like you, and I'm here, just like you."
"Yeah. Right."
"Listen, there's a reason for everything, you might say. But what reason is there for this to happen, what's going to happen if things turn out badly, what reason is there for that?"
"There's always a reason, even if you're too idiotic to figure it out."
"C'mon, that's uncalled for, you know what I mean."
"Do I? All I know is that you can't understand anything, I mean, when's the last time you decided to do something irrational, what can you remember doing?"
"I don't plan to do irrational things, there's no reason for it, see? That's all I'm saying."
"So there's a reason, you just don't wanna do anything irrational. Me, I've brought this upon myself, and look at all the attention I'm getting! See, there is a reason for everything."
"But what's your reason for doing this, what are you trying to prove?"
"Nothing."
"That's it?"
"That's right, nothing, there's nothing to prove except for what you see. It's who I am, and there's a reason for it."
"But you can't tell me what the reason is."
"I don't have to. God has his reasons, and things play out according to what he wants."
"Would he want you to do this?"
"Obviously, I mean, I'm here, aren't I?"
"But he wouldn't want this to happen, why would anyone want for this to happen? What do you think is going to happen to you after this happens?"
"Where else would I go? My only options are Heaven and Hell. Heaven's preferable, but no one ever really knows, do they? We're all fated to go somewhere."
"Alright, so you'll end up in one of those places, but why do you think there's reason to go now? What good will come out of this? You'll die, and everyone who's ever cared about you will have some piece of them that's going to be crushed, God really wants that?"
"You know what God wants, then?"
"I...I never thought about that, I always thought about myself, and...and where I was always at at the time, nothing else, because when it comes down to it, we choose what we wanna do. You know?"
"I chose to do this. Uhuh."
"Yeah, you did. But you can choose to undo it, no one's stopping you from making your own choices."
"You're trying to stop me from making this choice."
"Well, what if I care, what about those who care about you, they'd all think the same thing, right? They know you have a choice."
"They'd let me make this choice, I know they would. Who are you to tell me what my family would want for me? They'd all be right here next to me throwing a parade, if they had the choice."
"So they'd want for this to happen to you?"
"Who knows what anyone wants?"
"I know what I want, and that's for this to not happen. Damn it, it's not so much that you're misunderstanding me, you're being ignorant, pushing away the fact that there's nothing stopping you right now from ending this."
"You want me to put an end to all of this?"
"Just...I don't mean it like that, just, don't do this, can't you feel it in you, don't you know that you can make that choice?"
"You know, you're a persistent bastard."
"Well, I can't help it. Somehow, you learn a lot from a person who's about to kill themselves, more so than you would learn from anyone else in an hour, and I care. I do."
"Well, if you cared, you know what you'd do? You'd tell me to do this. You don't know what it's been like, you don't have a clue, and if you did, you'd let this happen."
"No one deserves this, I know that much, at least."
"No one? You honestly believe that? You can't think of one person you'd want for this to happen?"
"No, listen. This isn't about anyone else, it's about you."
"Then you'd let me do this."
"I can't let you do this."
"You talk about choices, but what choice do you have right now? What other choice do you have but to sit there and watch all this happen, what can you do about it?"
"You're right, I don't have any other option, but you do. We're not talking about my choices, we're talking about yours, that's what matters right now."
"You mean, you're talking about my choices. I don't have anything to talk about."
"What are we doing right now? We're talking."
"And we should probably be doing less of that."
"Don't you dare, you don't have to do this."
"I shouldn't dare?"
"Yes."
"God. No matter what I do, nothing good is going to come out of this, you know that, right?"
"It's a matter of life and death, and you don't deserve death."
"What do I deserve? You seem to know everything."
"No one deserves anything more than anyone else."
"That's a lie."
"How's that?"
"It's bullshit, that's how. Look at all them movie stars, they don't deserve any of the glamor any more than I do?"
"I'm not talking about glamor."
"You just said anything."
"Just...c'mon, don't do this."
"You really think I can undo all of this?"
"Yes, I do."
"Or is this just another lie?"
"I wouldn't lie to you."
"I'll just suffer more, you know that?"
"As long as you suffer, you know you're alive."
"So why wouldn't death be preferable?"
"Because you couldn't live for anything."
"Are you trying to make a funny?"
"Yeah. Maybe I am."

I scam vending machines.

There's a particular vending machine that calls my name, figuratively speaking, and I listen. It sits along a small entrance hall to a building we call the Alumni Center, and it's simply diverse with the pleasures of the world: chocolates, sweet and sour candies, chips that are cheesy, chips that are spicy, and oh, the amount of gum you can choose from! There's enough to fare for the world, one could say, but it only seems to call my name, and no one else'. Not that I'm addicted to treats, but because I have a gift, one that I'm willing to share with everyone.

I have the power to scam vending machines.

Honestly, I'm not sure how I do it. It starts while I'm scanning the rows and columns of treats, and each time, a particular item seems to glow, drawing me to it, and I have a knack (a certain synergy with the machine in question, if you will) of knowing that if I purchase that item, not only will the foremost item fall, but the next item will fall with it. Who would complain, I ask? It's more pleasing to hear two thuds from falling candy rather than one, if I must say, and I take both as though I knew it was bound to happen (and yes, after the second time, I did know), feeling victorious, feeling satisfied with the world as we know it.

But what would you do? Would you eat the second candy? I had the first time; I couldn't help myself, I was overwhelmed with the phenomenon. The second time rolled around and, behold, I ate both treats. No one is accusing me of being selfish simply because I scammed a machine. No; it runs deeper than that, at least I assume, and ultimately, it's our decision in the end that makes us who we are. I was feeling elated at first, even at second (if that makes sense), but the third time I scammed that machine, I left the second candy lay at the bottom, taking a second to realize what I was doing, and left the premise. It was another two days before I returned to the building for a Journalism course I was taking, and I only remembered what I had done when I felt the synergy: the vending machine was calling my name. I knew what I was supposed to do, so I walked before the machine, staring intently.

The candy still laid there. Either I had either established something great that we can only explain to ourselves, or no one else is as hungry as I am, the vending machine scammer.

The Incentive

Murders show your role as many fall for your shrill,
your chilled endeavor.
It's everything that's hard enough when there's nowhere else to run.
You met the rest head on.
You kept the best of us when we all just fell apart.

You tore at the mess, the wreck.
But darling, you're all that's left.
There was the mess, the wreck.
But darling, you're all I've got left.

You've murdered and you lied and fueled the world to act,
the impossible word.
I never heard what it was worth until we said we've had enough.
You met the rest head on.
You kept the best of us when we couldn't keep from falling apart.

You tore at the mess, the wreck.
But darling, you're all that's left.
There was the mess, the wreck.
But darling, you're all I've got left.

And maybe I was too quick to throw this life away.
The pain was more than I could bear.
You gave me a reason to try for another day.
When you tore, when you wrecked.

You tore at the mess, the wreck.
But darling, you're all that's left.
There was the mess, the wreck.
But darling, you're all I've got left.
You're what I've always hoped for.

Don't worry, we all fall hard.

I had come to realize that I want to be perfect. It's rather unrealistic, but it's definitely something I could wing, you know, not having to deal with the whole trial-and-error business, and just doing everything right. Wouldn't that be the life? No matter how good someone does their thing, you'd do it better. No matter how well that chef baked their pies, you'd make pies three times as delicious. You'd be a machine, almost; your veins would be the circuits, life's impulses would be your signals, and everything would flow naturally.

Yeah, that sounds nice, I guess.

But I'm not a machine. I wasn't ever proud of it, but I've learned something over the past year, and that particular life lesson dawned on me for the longest time before I came to the realization that I really don't want to be a machine. Just today, I had played a basketball game; I'm currently a part of an intramural basketball league, and the ride is rather bumpy. We lost by a million, and I'm not exaggerating. I'm no superstar, and my team consists of rather independent guys, wanting glory for themselves. I, wanting to be perfect (oh, me), told myself that it was only a game, nothing to cry over. Although I didn't cry, I did feel a twinge of anger, because we hadn't won a game, yet. It was frustrating to think that I was allowing myself to accept defeat over and over again, and admitting when our chances were only a lost cause earlier than I should have been admitting it.

But it's the small things much like a basketball game that make you realize that you don't want to be perfect. What would you live for? Living to show the world how awesome you know you are? We had lost that basketball game, but if we were perfect, victory wouldn't have been as sweet as when we'll win that game down the road as we are, simply human with hopes and dreams. If we were perfect, what purpose would those elements of our lives serve? Every hope we might have would be fulfilled, every dream just another moment in our lives. Do we want to be a machine? I'd rather fall hard, and find the strength within myself to push myself upright once more, because I know we're all going to fall hard. If I were a machine, I wouldn't have any reason to let a twinge of anger drive myself to be the best I can be in this world. There are hundreds of paths to follow, to run upon, to fall occasionally, and to get back up because you want to keep going, because you know that deep within you, there's the will to write that next lyric, the will to finish the job, the will to grab that extra rebound, the will to take a stand against what others might think of you, and prove to everyone, even yourself, that you can be what you want to. It all boils down to how much you're willing to fall to achieve your goals and dreams. Personally, I'd let myself run amok with my fear, my anger, my guilt, my passion, and my love, if it means having something to live for.

But yeah. Being perfect would most definitely be a relief.