The Window

This morning, like every morning, I found myself sitting on my bed looking out my window. It occurred to me that I wasn't actually looking out my window, but looking at the picture the window gave me. It was like I was blankly staring at a visage of some still life drawing; unmoving, unchanging, yet still with "purpose."

You see, many people don't have the perspective or don't see things, in the way they should be. We constantly toil to "see" what is there, but we don't remember what we are looking at. We force what we think to be true onto what is true. We look at every object as a whole and fail to see it as itself. We fail to see through the pane and understand what is beyond it, not just what it appears to be.

Maybe the glass isn't clean and it's impairing our ability to see everything clearly. Our view is distorted by the small blotches and smudge marks from past interaction with the window, or the mud flung onto it in speckles dotted in mysterious patterns. We can't concentrate on what is beyond it because something is closer. We can't see the whole image because we can't see through the marks. We can't understand what is beyond it because we are focused on the imperfections.

I'm sitting here, drinking a polish mug full of hot cocoa, staring out my kitchen window. It is dark now and there is nothing to "see." Does that mean it's not there? I'm sure you have caught onto my analogy by now. The window acts as our perspective and the objects are everyone around us. We are sometimes stuck trying to find things out because we fail to see the individual. We are sometimes unable to understand people because we cant see through the distractions and imperfections. Or Maybe we are blind to the fact that anyone is there at all because we don't see them.

You've heard that life was like a box of chocolates, because you never know what you're going to get. Life is also like looking out a window, you'll never know what you don't see.

I think I need to get a new style of font. Seriously, my last post had flowers for bullets.... I like flowers (hence my background), but not retarded text-style ones.

Today was election day. It came and went pretty fast, I should say. I find it odd such a big day still doesn't seem too "big," in light of what i did today. I suppose it will change our future very little, or quite a bit (depending on who wins). Let's pray that this day builds up our nation, rather than tearing it down.
Working in the elections office was quite an expiriance. I found it funny; all the stupid problems people called about throught the day. Here are a couple of my favorites:

• "are they allowed to have signs?"
• "am i registered?" (quite frequently asked)
• "where's George?" (my favorite)
• "where do i go to register? Oh, i'm late. Can i still vote, Please?"
• "Is this the Criminal Justice Office?"
• "what do i need to take the the elections tomarrow?" (obviously, this one was halarious)
• "what party am i registered under?"
• "Can i vote twice if i'm registered in two places?"
• "what happens if i hit next too many times? Can i vote again?"