Hero

What exactly is a hero? Must they be clad in bright colored spandex, and jump from the rooftops of New York? Must they wear camo, and carry four different kinds of guns, running through the deep jungle, lighting up terrorists while calmly smoking a Cuban cigar? Must they be a regular guy who resembles will smith, that happens to find some kind of cure, and save the world from a zombie apocalypse? Or can they be a guy that hands a homeless person five bucks? Can they be a pregnant girl that gives up her baby for adoption, instead of aborting? Can they be the woman that comforts a little kid lost in an amusement park? Can they be a kid that decides to mow his neighbors lawn too? Can they be the guy that stops on the side of the road, to help a stranger change a tire? What exactly is a hero? America, and most of the world, have told us what a hero is. They have created a mould of what a hero should fit in, and then pumped them out like Krispy Kreme, Hot n Ready’s on a conveyer belt. You like sports? Alright, your hero must be tall, strong, fast, and occasionally on steroids. You like movies? Your hero must also be tall, have beautiful hair, get into more than their share of messes, and swear like a sailor. You like music? Then your hero must sing loud, sometimes unintelligible, have a thousand screaming fans, and bang their head like there’s no tomorrow. And the sad part about all of this, is that we’ve gone for it, hook, line, and sinker. Why do we wear the pants we do? Well cause all the famous people are! What about your shirt? Your Shoes? The brand of your underwear? Yes, even subconsciously we do these things. And if you think you are unaffected, don’t lie to yourself. We are slaves to what people may think of us. Now what I am NOT saying, is that we should dress like slobs and say, “I don’t care about your opinions, these nasty clothes are comfortable!” That’s just gross. But think about this the next time your putting on pants that must be ripped off so you can use the bathroom: Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. Who are you imitating? What hero do you want to be when you grow up? Heroes can be anyone. They can be someone who is there to hug you when you look sad, someone to comfort you when you start crying, and someone to buy you ANOTHER box of tissues when you won’t stop. A hero is someone that comes to rescue, even when it’s inconvenient for them, or for you. A hero is someone who tells you the truth, even when you hate them afterwards for it. A hero is someone that will always be there for you, even when you can’t see them, even when you can’t touch them, they will always be there for you. There to back you up, throw some punches, and then rush you to the hospital. A hero is someone who will take your hand, haul you out of the mud, and then take your picture. A hero is someone who loves you, and will be there for you, no matter the situation, no matter the cost. A hero will always be there to save you.

An Ode

who is the one thats there,
when you need, when you dont,
who is the one that cares,
when you listen, when you wont,
who cares for you at length,
who helps when your in pain,
who listens to you shout,
who helps to give you strength,
who does it not for gain,
who loves you in and out?

Where are we going?

Where are we going? Where, since the creation of the first man, have we been striving to get to? Where have we been searching for, and living for since birth? Where are we truly going?
Are we headed to fame and fortune? Our purpose to become rich and famous, and to be known as a legend throughout the world. To live a life of luxury, to attain as many physical things as possible, so that when we die, it will take our family an entire month to go through our belongings? There are people who do truly believe that he who dies with the most toys wins. All of our lives, we try to better ourselves. To get more money, a better car, name brand clothes. None of these are a sin. Far from it. Of course you will eventually need a better car, of course you need new clothes, and of course you need money. But is that what we were made to shoot for? Or is it something else? Are we made to love those around us perhaps? Are we striving to make our friends and families love us, and appreciate us at any cost? Are we to make sure that everyone loves us, no matter the circumstance? No matter the consequence, at all costs, make sure that they like the way we are, and make sure we fit into what they envision us to be? To fit ourselves into a mold of what they like, and to stay there contentedly for them? Are we made so that we may make all those around us smile at our presence, and appreciate our company, no matter how we must change to obtain that goal? Or is it something else? Are we made to attend church with a smile plastered across our features, greeting our sisters and shaking the hands of our brothers? To sit in our pews, and yell “Amen” every time one of the deacons does? To listen to our pastor, backs held straight, knees crossed above shiny dress shoes, wondering if the sweat on our backs will seep through one of our many suits? To look with disdain upon every teenager who had the gall not to comb his hair, or wear a collared shirt? Is this what we have been born to do? Is this why we run the good race? Is this why we wake up in the morning, and haul ourselves from our beds? Is this why we do not just end it all, take our lives and come face to face with the inevitable? Is this where we are going? If not these places, than where? Where should we charter the map of life? To which land shall we sail, to which destination shall we proceed? And who can know? Who possesses this map of life, to give us direction, to shine light on the dark road so that we may not stumble and lose our way? Who can see the big picture, and guide us? Not a man, for the blind cannot lead the blind. Not our own emotions, or what feels right, for they change as the shifting sands. What can lead us? Who can show us the way?