My Name is Randomness

Randomness is beautiful.

Truly it is.

We don't associate chaos and convolution with happiness, let alone the hallmark of a beautiful mind, but let me tell you, it is.

Randomness has the effect of a brain massage. Soothing, vibrating waves of wooziness, overloading your troubles and sending your cares packing to the next country over.

If you don't know what you're going to do next, you have met the definition of insanity. And... as we all know... the mentally insane are among the happiest members of our society.

...and don't get started with that "correlation does not imply causation" business. It's no use.

:shakes head:

:harder:

:harder:

:clinking sounds:

...I didn't need those marbles anyway... Where were we?

Ah yes. Randomness. It results in so many good things...

1. Blank stares from the person you cornered with the question about ear wax.
   
   
2. Nervous chuckles from the barista when you asked for that cup of coffee with the shot of Red Bull.
   
   
3. Shifting feet on floor 42 of the Bancorp Tower when you ask for directions to the Oregon Zoo.

Ah, good times.

There are two things we can count on in life. Two things to drown our sorrows and make our lives positively hum with the electrifying power of cayenne powder.

The first is randomness.

The second...

...is chocolate.

Indulge responsibly,
- Daniel

What Pain Really Is

Pain is when a close friend dies. Pain is when the woman you love tells you that you're not the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with.

That is pain.

And when there's no way to vent the emotion caused by that pain, nobody to get bitter at, no-one to blame, it drives you mad.

It causes you to ask why.

In all the books, pain is released in some way. It's released by asking God why. It's released by isolating oneself from one's friends. It's released in streams of bitterness towards the one who caused you pain.

But I can't do any of these things.

I have faith in God's will, so there's nothing to question. I'm surrounded by people who love me, so I can't use isolation as a means of escape. I respect and understand her decision, so bitterness isn't something I can harbor.

I'm lost--trapped--sinking under a sea of doubt and soul searching. And yet, there are so many others who have suffered more. Corrie ten Boom, the Apostle Paul, Job. I don't even feel I have the right to feel as I do.

Do I mourn? Move on? Do I pick up the pieces of my life as they were before? Pretend the last three months never happened?

And then I read what I've just written, and realize it's all about me. I'm being selfish. And then I look back over the last three months, and realize it's always been about me.

It's hard when she says "no", and the reason she says "no" is because she's less selfish than you.

That hurts.

Everything I thought I knew about myself, every detail, needs scrutiny. All last night I tossed and turned in visceral pain. I arose at 3 am with a single question.

Who am I?



I don't really know anymore.



- Daniel

"Who am I, Gamling?"