I'm a Resident Assistant at Clark Kerr Campus, so every now and again I have to go on rounds in my area to make sure everything's in order. Although this can sometimes be a hassle, it can also be kind of...peaceful. Why is that?
Well, the thing is, because of the peculiar layout of CKC, two out of the three buildings I am in charge of have room doors on the exterior (like a motel). So most of my rounds are spent outdoors. On rainy days, this fact weighs down on me like a comatose bull. However, on nights when the sky is clear, I am in heaven (somewhat literally), because I am able to see the stars.
I am of the firm belief that the stars are one of the most beautiful things in existence, and as such, I'm wont to look at them whenever I can. I did so tonight. While standing with my head craned up at the heavens, I started laughing for some reason. It was a small, joyous laugh, as if those points of light could make things right in the world. That they could sprinkle down like fairy dust and make people happy.
Of course, one of the problems of living in the city is that your visibility of the stars is fairly limited (thank you, light pollution). Still, I can always recognize Orion, standing tall and proud, and that familiarity makes me happy.
In the movie The Last Samurai (my second favorite movie of all time, despite a certain crazy actor in it), Katsumoto says, "The perfect blossom is a rare thing. You could spend your life looking for one, and it would not be a wasted life." Personally, I feel the same way about finding the most beautiful star in the sky. I always thought that such a task could be the basis of a small story. Perhaps a father would tell all potential suitors that in order for them to prove their love for his daughter, they must find the most beautiful star in the heavens. If I was told to do that, I'd like to think that I'd willingly do it, even if it took me forever. The time, after all, would not be wasted...
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1 comment:
aww! very touching Mister Schnorr. it almost made me forget that stars were just big balls of gas buring thousands of years ago and millions of miles away. can't wait to read tomarrow's.
Excelisor!
UnderDog
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