This past week has been different. I cannot remember the last time that I had to walk as much as I did this week, and I have a feeling this is only be the beginning of my walking endeavors–being that I don’t have a set of wheels for transportation at the moment.
What happened to my vehicle? Well, last week I was involved in a car accident, no injuries, just a wrecked vehicle, and other stuff which I will not go into detail of. I am thankful to be alive, believe me. I have accepted my fate with dignity, and now, well, now we just have to keep our eyes looking forward, and keep attempting to make progress in this game called life, where the stakes are high, and ultimately nothing matters.
The truth is, I am fine. I have reconciled myself, and I have concluded that I shall always be fine, despite exterior appearances–though I am human.
All this walking which I’ve been doing has caused me to gain an even greater appreciation for my city, my place of birth: San Bernardino, California. The city which welcomed me into this world.
I feel strong sentiments towards this chunk of land, called the City of San Bernardino, land denominated by some imaginary border, which the higher-ups have specified, (and one may dare to suppose) has been marginalized as a wasteland by them–so it may seem. (Thinking about it, I should do more research into our history). But, to me, San Bernardino is more. There is more than poverty and violence here. Here, like in any other place in the world, is a city full of people attempting to make it through the day. A city full of people attempting to live life as best as they can, and due to life’s circumstances, world restrictions, disconcerting life situations, and lack of understanding in the importance education and the role it plays in the development of a community, San Bernardino is what it currently is. To me, my city is a place of magnificent promise. I see promise. The location, and the climate here are heavenly, in my opinion. The range of people here is varied, and diverse. The majority here are of Mexican decent, and you may know why: California was a territory belonging to Mexico at some point in history, and if my memory is recalling correctly, the USA acquired California in 1848 with the Signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo (I could just google it, but I rather attempt the “recall method,” so correct me if I am wrong, please). It is true, our downtown is non-thriving, and I believe that that is of concern. Why doesn’t business want to come to downtown San Bernardino? I can already imagine a thriving downtown, populated by bars and restaurants, peopled by merry city dwellers and tourist. This small chunk of land, San Bernardino, California, on a floating orb in space, falling towards the Sun is where most of my memories reside: the good and the bad, but many more good; this may be why I feel such affection. I am learning to appreciate these fleeting moments more.
There are moments when one feels a sense of pride towards what one has accomplished. I have a lot to be proud for, and one must remind oneself once in a while of what he has to be proud for because in the world of exterior appearances their will always be impressionists (I use the term impressionists to signify anyone attempting to leave an imprint of their impressions of the world on you) which will attempt to cheapen your accomplishments, and vision: there are envious people in the world.
I am learning more and more about the types of human character, and there are–to put it frankly–many pieces of warm, gushy matter with emanating unpleasant odor walking among us; therefore, a keen sense of smell is necessary.
We have a lot to be thankful for, though we may not have a lot to show for. The universe treats us very indifferently, a sort of warm indifference, if you hone in on the feeling–if that makes any sense–and when it comes down to it, we must summon the courage to admit that we bring upon many of our own undoings. We are flawed; yet, through persistence, and being able to maintain a presence of mind we may patch and fix our flaws.
Now, time to pick up Dostoyevsky and get a coffee refill.
Have a good Sunday fellow reader.