Two Posts in One Day

I know what you’re thinking – two posts in one day!? Right, well, here goes.

I talked to General Beadle today. It started this morning. I checked Jeff’s site and found that his girlfriend had posted. She burned me, folks. I think that she thinks that I’m a jerk, and she probably hates me. I’m sorry for that. I think she misunderstood what I wrote. I wasn’t dissing Jeff’s post. I think it’s great. My prior comment was simply on the fact that he hadn’t posted in a while and I was happy that he had.

My second comment might have been taken as sarcastic, but it wasn’t. If you look at Jeff’s earlier posts, they all tell stories. Here’s what I did today. This latest post was a introspection. With introspection, a reader is immediately tapped into the writer. It’s like a direct link. The readers empathize, they commiserate, with you. This gives you power over them. I thought it was great. Jeff and I talked about making up our lives and posting things on our websites to that effect, but this was a good first step.

I|m not that bad a guy, really.

So, I was depressed this morning. So, to clear my head I took an hour long walk. I just walked and thought and then I came to a park. So, I lay down thought some more, and made up my mind some, and then I walked back with my head up. That’s the biggest difference. Depression pushes your head down. Optimism pulls it up.

When I got back to campus, I was on the same side as ‘ol General Beadle. I decided to talk to him. A little back history. General Wm. H. H. Beadle gave a large portion of his land to the state for schools. He helped to make DSU what it is today. He served as a professor of history and was even president of the teacher’s college. Four years before he died, a bronze statue of him was fashioned, and eventually it was placed on the South West side of campus.

There he stands, watching out over Madison. But no one sees him. I told him this. I told him how did these great things, and less than a hundred years later, you are only decoration. No one cares about you anymore, Bill. You’re not worth anything. How do you feel about that? I see you. I know you’re there, but others just drive by. They ignore you. How’s that for greatness…

I left him, but not without this thought, “Even if no one knows you exist, if you know you exist, and you care about that, then that’s all that matters.”

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