Few days ago, I made a visit to the local mall. Before entering the premises, I was greeted by one of two Air Cadets standing by the entrance, soliciting for donations. As Cadets do. She was tiny, probably no more than thirteen years of age, hermit glasses and an overall nerd look.
"Hi, would you like to make an donation towards the Air Cadets of Canada?" She asked.
"No........sorray." I responded coldly.
"Have a nice day." She replied.
You see, I've been bred to despise any kind of cadets, having been a member of Canada's preeminent Military academy. Cadets were considered to be the biggest disgrace in uniform to us. The absolute cut throat politics, and backstabbing that occurs in that institution is beyond a high-calibre old dog like me can bare. I hated the cadets, and I continue to hate their products which so inevitably seep into the branches of the Military.
But I feel guilt, for I was so unforgiving to that little girl. She was Chinese after-all, and the image I've portrayed as an adult was undeniably....rude. It was inherent that I'd be a prick to what was once my opposition, but to her I am of an age in her eyes--hardly capable of ever imagining could ever reach. It's like the misbehaving dog immediately knowing that it made a mistake, after biting the master's hand. Although, nowhere near that context.
I wonder what went through that little girl's head. What she thinks of me. Whether she forget by the end of the day, or my unbecoming attitude would rest with her for the next decade to come. You never know with kids as to what makes an impression on them.
I'm still trying to figure out who I have, or am becoming.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
What it means to have substance
I was momentarily sidetracked from my focus by my feelings. Very amazing that someone is able to conjure any within me at all, but now I am recovered, and much more clear minded.
My standards must be impregnable, not by the greatest influences of the past, not by the most important people of my life, not by the most heartfelt of sentiments.
Love is for the weak.
My standards must be impregnable, not by the greatest influences of the past, not by the most important people of my life, not by the most heartfelt of sentiments.
Love is for the weak.
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