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I especialy want to know how you feel about the last sentence, and the entire story as a whole. Is it uplifting? Depressing? Ambiguous? Because to me, its very difinitive, but maybe only I see it?
The Ambiguous Horizon
I remember the whiz of projected paint being flung past my head. The adrenaline pumped through my veins as the rush of the moment wrapped me up and completely engulfed me. I loved the thrill of the hunt, the ever continuing pursuit to gain the tactical advantage. The pure ecstasy of outwitting your opponent. I played for sport, for fun…I played for the love of the game.
Memories
It seems so distant now, looking back on it. No more do my guns blast with the fury of my fingers. Now they lay motionless on my desk, collecting dust. What happened? The game I so loved. After the first shot, I knew it was for me. It was my hobby, my passion, my obsession. I spent countless hours daydreaming about it. Year after year passed, as slowly the game changed. I played at new fields, with new people, but with every change, it lost something. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, and maybe I am to blame. Whatever the reason, I was too late, as love turned to routine, and routine faded into the bleak forgotten.
What happened?
I used to be so happy…so eager to wake up the next day. And it wasn’t just in recent memory. All that I have ever remembered seemed so good. Yet as I look on the past, memories seem to have consistently gotten better…then why these feelings now? Have I always felt like this? Or maybe things seem better in the past, maybe I only remember the good. Perhaps the scars of the past never cut too deep.
I always was a fast healer.
But times are different now. Now, I try to occupy myself with other things. I try to keep my mind busy. I run to stay in shape. I read to expand my knowledge. I listen to music to keep me smiling. I play basketball for enjoyment. I play golf to improve. I play video games…to fill a void. ‘What are we doing here?’ I find myself asking my friends. ‘We do the same thing every week....what have our lives come to?’
They do the same things as us.
‘Except they drink beer, or do drugs,’ was their answer. I, and for the most part we, was never into that. As a Christian, I find questioning myself a regular occurrence. Have I made a difference? I always try to do good, try to set an example, try to BE the example. But it all seems in vain. I look around at all the lumps of clay, and see how easily innocence is stolen, how easily people corrupt. And can you blame them? It’s everywhere. They are barraged from all sides. No matter how big the tree, enough blows and it will fall. Yet I remain steady. I never give in. But who notices? Do they see what I do, do they take note. Are they inspired by my actions, or just blow them off as an abnormality?
Have I made a difference?
I see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I’m running on a treadmill. It all seems so futile. But I know what I have to do, and why I have to do it. This life is not all about me. It never has been. To a certain extent, I take comfort in that. A drop of caffeine can do a lot for an empty bottle.
I do not fear death.
And why should I? Death is no enemy, at least not to me. I know where I’m going when I die, and it is nothing to be afraid of. Death would be a relief! Escape from this cold hard world. Escape from the lies, the deceit, the pain. No more would I suffer. I could, and would, find my true self, hiding golden streets. But before death comes knocking, I have things on my agenda…and so does He.
Every day is new.
Reality is a cold wet stone. But I know that my actions aren’t in vain. I know that I can, and do, make a difference. I know that I have the will to press on. I know that within me, there is a great man, whose potential is unlimited. I know that with God, I am doomed to succeed.
