I have moved my focused blogging efforts to my own domain at: http://www.peacefullyadrift.com/

I wonder if God lets us sin for our own good sometimes? Where the end justifies the means. No, follow me on this: God lets you do something you know you shouldn’t but you do because you’re human, and then convicts you in an ever so slightly way, to make you realize—mostly—on your own how disgusting you can be. Now one of the greatest sources of motivation from inward for us humans is to feel disgusted with yourself and want to change soley on that basis alone—spiritualism or anything else, not even being a factor.

But how sacrilegious or “un-Christian” does that sound to say that God “lets” you sin? Surely God doesn’t “let” you sin—you just do—, right? I think it’s closer to say God gives us our free-will, where upon you choose to sin. Now of course it is human nature to sin, so if you think about it like that, you are naturally inclined to do just what God doesn’t want you to do. Now God understands this, and is forgiving. The journey to God begins whenever you decide in your mind, heart, and soul, to do what is not in your nature as a human—to do what is right.

What if there was no light?
Nothing wrong, nothing right
What if there was no time
And no reason or rhyme?

Every step that you take
Could be your biggest mistake
It could bend, or it could break
But that’s the risk that you take

Today I found an old projector that is easily from the 1950s or 60s stashed in my grandmother’s old house. She used to live next door to me until she was re-married after my grandfather died, and moved into her new husband’s home. Over time, she has taken most everything of importance to her from her old house to his, and all that remains are trivial things she could never bring herself to throw away. Generally, the only reason I still go over there is to play the piano there—which, like everything else, is very old, rundown, and doesn’t work completely properly—and to work out as I’ve also moved my weights into her house.

I stumbled upon this projector today which compacts down into a small grey box. Although it has apparently been in her living room floor for quite a while, I have never even noticed it—which is exceptionally odd for me. However, now that I have found the projector I am absolutely intrigued by it. I’ve brought it over to my house and have taken it apart and played around with it. It’s so interesting! Although I’m generally a modernist, vintage things still hold my interest as well. Perhaps because of the technologically fast-paced generation I’ve grown up in, I’m generally under the impression that older things are primitive and less impressive—let alone interesting. However, this small little device intrigues me. Entirely mechanical, nothing computerized or digital about, yet it functions with remarkable precision and dependency.

Being the person I am, however, my mind couldn’t rest at that. Young and old people alike in this world commonly become discouraged and complain that their life is boring or uninteresting. Of this, I’m guilty of my fair share. However, something as small as that projector has literally been there in my life for years, yet simply overlooked. How much have you overlooked? Throughout your day, how much do you see but not really notice? Society thinks it needs more materialistic goods to satisfy and entertain them, when they overlook all the terribly interesting things already in their life. These things become the commonplace, and are considered normal and uninteresting. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, through Sherlock Holmes, once said:

“There is nothing so unnatural as the commonplace”

He couldn’t have been more right. Open your eyes and see all you already have. Look for your projectors.

After doing a lot of research and thinking today, I think I’ve decided to switch my major from Computer Science & Software Engineering to Journalism & Communications. Completely different school. Instead of FSU it would be UF. Good thing I don’t really care about football, huh?

It’s always the same when a new person finds out. One by one I’m having to tell people I know and people I care about about my autoimmune disorder. It’s always the same. They find out I’m on chemotherapy and they immediately begin worrying for me. Am I alright? How am I holding up? Is there anything, anything at all they can do to help me?

But then something happens that is never the same. They meet me in person for the first time since knowing and it’s different. But how it’s different is different. The atmosphere is just not the same. Suddenly I’m treated as though I’m fragile and they feel they owe it to me to not be difficult. Whatever I want is what they want. Why can’t a guy whose body attacks itself be normal, eh?

Today was Mother’s Day. Kacey and Jacob and the boys were down for the weekend. They spent the night at our house last night so we got to spend “quality” time with them. A good chunk of Dad’s side of the family came over today, which is unusual as they tend to keep to themselves. My cousin Blake came, that’s always fun. He and I will be going to college together and we mostly talked about that.

Friday was technically the last day for Seniors but I have to go Tuesday and take a Calculus exam because I failed Calc this 9-weeks. I blame my chemo and never feeling like going to school—so I didn’t. After that though, I will be finished with high school.

As for my future, I’ve put a lot of thought lately into switching majors from Computer Science & Software Engineering to Photojournalism. I think my adventurous personality and always seeking more in things will serve me well in this respect.

We shall see.

Taken in Dothan, AL in the historic district.