My Cardboard Balcony

People make mistakes. I make mistakes. Lots of mistakes. Big ones, small one, insignificant ones, and uncharacteristic ones. I could make a mistake entirely against my ethics, thinking it's okay and not giving it a second check or resorting to another opinion. I know there are people out there who will hold my judgment skills to the highest nth degree. Only recently have I realized how ridiculous that is. The most honest politician can tell a lie. The most charitable Christian can say hateful things. In this day and age of "Never forgive, never forget," we are held to unreasonable standards of how we should behave at all times. In short, we are not allowed to misbehave, overreact, lose sense of self, or explode. We are not allowed to be human. Of course we should accept responsibility for our errors, and sometimes we should pay the consequences for our actions. But how far do the consequences go, and for how little? If a student cheats on a test, not believing he is...

I'ma be honest: It's late, I'm at my girlfriend's house, I'm on my prehistoric Macbook, and I think I'm finally running out of older stories and poems that don't happen to be already on this blog. Could this mean the end of Whims of the Time Traveler? Who knows. For now, it's pounding out an introspection, going to bed, and getting prepared to go to a wedding.

"Gimme an ice cream cone!" "No." "Gimme an ice cream cone!" "No!" "Gimme an ice cream cone!" "For the last time, no, because you are being undeniably rude!" barked Joel's mother as she grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the window. "Oh! Uh...please?" "Too little, too late, young man!"