--Part 1--
Hahaha it looks like I haven't really posted that many more YouTube videos up since my last blog post. But I do have a couple ideas. Not that ideas really matter. LINK!
Okay, so now that you've clicked on that link and read a bit, you know that me having an idea in my head isn't worth beans. I can have a great idea for a game, but if I don't do anything with it, then the terrible crappy game idea someone has and actually does something with is 100 times better than my game, because at least it exists.
I also had an idea for a short story, but once again, unless I actually write it, or start to write it, it doesn't really matter.
What is an idea? A series of connections in my brain? A certain pattern on synapses firing? If I were to die tomorrow, those ideas would be lost. There would be literally no record of them for anyone to find or discover. (With today's technology--who knows, maybe in the future they'll be able to go into dead people's brains and know what they were thinking.)
--Part 2--
Man, I had this crazy dream last night. The theme for the dream I guess would be guilt/grief.
You see, in it a super villain is fighting against superheroes and the most virtuous superhero is trying his very best. In the end the super villain is going to beat him, though. But that's a good thing because we had a secret weapon that would instantly destroy the bad guy, but it works on a system of karma, so it would only work if the bad guy killed one of the good guys. So that was about to happen, the bad guy was just about to kill this good guy, who was on the very last stitch of life, and then we could've used the weapon and won. Except.
Except I'm nearby and I think, hey, I can be a hero and hit this bad guy right now. And I pick up a rock and chuck it at the villain's head. Only I hit the good guy instead and accidently kill him. I am so full of grief and pain and regret. We would have won it all, everything, but now because of my stupid mistake the bad guy's going to have to kill another hero for our super weapon to work (because I took out the good guy, the villain didn't). The dream fast forwards to after the battle now.
My life is a living nightmare. If you remember the General Conference talk about the man who accidently runs over and kills his son with the moving van, and the guilt he felt, that's what I felt. I hate myself, who I am, everything about me. Everyone looks at me and I feel their stabbing, judging eyes. I was the one who ruined everything. I was the one who messed up. I was the screw-up. Everywhere I go everyone recognizes me instantly as that one guy who messed everything up. The guilt I feel. The burden I carry. Extreme waves of just overwhelming overpowering depression crashing into me, ceaselessly, endlessly. With no escape. I have no more desire for human interaction, human touch. I am shunned and so shun myself from the world of love, and hope, and happiness. The past haunts me every waking second. Knowing what I did. Knowing that I can never, ever, reverse it. Life is a living hell.
And then. And then there's one man who doesn't shun me, who accepts me, who helps me. He knows exactly what I did, but he still loves me and is my friend. Not only that, but he loves me so much that he says he wants to take that pain from me, the shame, the horrible suffocating guilt. He's willing to take it upon himself, to suffer it himself, in order to let me be free. In order to let me live, and be free of the intense crushing all-encompassing pain. And then he does--he take sit all on himself to let me free.
The only question is: do I accept it?
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