September 13th, 2005


That Which Redeems...

Consumes? Maybe.

As some of you may have noticed, my emotional state has been somewhat rocky in recent weeks. The goal which comprised the entire first 24 years of my life has been completed: I have an education. I have a little piece of paper that says so.

In the last few weeks, I've realized that my entire life stretches in front of me. I can go down any of a thousand paths; I decide, now, who I'm going to be for the rest of my life. That's how I was looking at it.

This, in turn, has caused me to look back at who I've been... and, frankly, it's not a pretty picture. I've done terrible things, and I'm capable of worse. I got pretty depressed about that, especially in the last few days.

I despaired over the possibility of ever finding redemption for what I've done -- even harder to find redemption for what I could do. The problem is that I was waiting around for some dramatic moment which would sweep away all the things I've done.

All day, I've been watching the Webcomic Telethon, and I realized something. Maybe the opportunity for that dramatic moment will never come along. But what good is a single moment, anyway? Is it possible for That Which Redeems to come a little bit at a time? So I donated $350 to the Red Cross ($100 each to the Katrina fund and the National Disaster fund, and $150 to the International Disaster fund).

It's a tiny thing compared to what I've done and what I've been. But... it's the first time in my life I've ever done something without possibility of reward. The tax break angle honestly didn't occur to me until after I donated, and I'll probably have forgotten about it completely by tax time, anyway.

Me? Do something for strangers who will never thank me? This is utterly incompatible with the person I've always seen myself as... which, I suppose, is what redemption is all about.
  • Current Music
    Beethoven's 9th

Oh yeah, and...

Cyrus officially moved in this weekend. We cleaned up all my old furniture from when I lived with my brother, and reorganized everything. For those who haven't been in that basement (I don't think anyone other than Tristan and my sister has), some info: the basement consists of five rooms, namely the laundry room, a carpeted room (which includes the stairs) of standard bedroom size, an large uncarpeted room (which contains the back door), a storage room (off the uncarpeted room), and a bathroom (also off the uncarpeted room, has a shower stall). A short hallway connects the laundry room, carpeted room, and uncarpeted room.

Anyway, we've arranged it such that the carpeted room is now my bedroom, and half the uncarpeted room is Cyrus'. The other half of the uncarpeted room, which includes the entrance to the hallway, the bathroom, and the back door, is a common area. The two halves of the room, except for a walkway a few feet wide, are divided by a long table supporting TV and video game systems.

My room, which previously contained two beds, two dressers, and a bookshelf, now has one bed, a dresser, a computer table, and two bookshelves. Cyrus' room, which previously contained nothing, now has a bed, a dresser, a desk, and a bookshelf.

I, as usual, am astounded by how much crap I own. I must find a way to utterly purge the knick-knacks, toys, and memorabilia that just take up space. Videogames, books, and DVDs can stay, but I must eliminate all the notebooks/random pieces of paper. As soon as a certain brother of mine coughs up the laptop he's been tweaking for A MONTH, I can get started on that. And I suppose I need furniture to put the books, videogames, and laptops ON. And a bed. And clothes. And food.

But other than THAT, everything must be purged.