Money is the root of all evil. It is also the root of misjudgment, misperception, and distortion. It does not appear logical to me that a mother would deem it necessary for her son to cut expenditures – of all kinds that is – from his own balance. Meagerly haircuts, insignificant contact lenses have all been misplaced from one category known as “necessities” to another often referred to as “unnecessary luxuries.” One would invariably argue that when a person is receiving income on a regular basis, his or her condign expenditures are self-indicted, and I could not agree less. Yet an income of 150 RMB a day is no income for an adult lifestyle. It should not, cannot be expected that an eighteen year old without a job is obliged to financially support himself, and quite humorously, this here is just the case. If money is a devil and a blessing at the same time, what is money?

Recidivism, recidivism, recidivism. Many a time we humans nail determination into a goal, a challenge, and then we detach ourselves from that beginning initiative after a while. This kind of recidivism is perhaps not as severe as the kind you would expect in the legal context, such as criminal recidivism, but this is nonetheless a relapsing into a former habit, the habit of indolence. In dealing with long term targets such as future career, family planning, and retirement, one must constantly be reminded, either by someone else or by self, of the initiative. This introduces the idea of syllabuses, and yet even then, teachers and professors at times fail to base the entire courses fundamentally on the syllabuses. Oh goodness, I have got to admit, I just ran out of things to say. I had this all planned out in the shower and contemplated deeply upon the matter, but now that I have become indulged in other matters as college and limo arrangements, I must tend to them now. Maybe another day on recidivism.

In light of searching for something more, miracles occur. It was at that precise moment, when all the world has darkened and human sanity has endured the final resistance, when the grand signal flashed. Colors of robust tone and texture inundated the landscapes outside the window of the car, as an angel lifted the gargantuan burden off of my beat chest. That kind of ameliorating sensation is rare, underrated, disregarded. Yet, at the end of a day’s vigorous expelling of four weeks’ anxiety, an aged, familiar thought reestablished its base in my mind. And that is the idea of separation. You see, love is an esoteric culture. It is mere kismet to some and a game to others. You cannot enjoy it without undertaking the inevitable outcomes. The loved face distance, abandonment, and loneliness, and the unloved face frailty, dissatisfaction, and disrespect. It seems that in this world we know, the constant fluctuations of patterns and perpetual alteration of lives inhibit the opportunity to stabilize. One obstacle leads to another, and one source of misery leads to another. Conclusively, it all boils down to whether one elects the stagnant disinterested life or the flowing determined life. At that instantaneous moment of frustration and bewilderment, take a moment to breathe, and reassemble your thought processes. Remember, emotion is not without folly. There is one sanctuary amid the sky of dejection: Hope. Prayer will calm storms of the heart, and it must be reminded of when one is desperately needy. Because I promise, there are few solutions more potent than the wonder of salvation and faith.