OK, so I found a new book to read; I was searching for one for the longest time. To tell you the truth, I found thirteen new books. Yeah, I like reading, what did you think? Reading is great, and if you don't like reading, then you totally suck! Just kidding. You don't suck totally; Just a little bit. The books I found are Magnus Chase (is there going to be a third book? IDK I haven't read the second one yet), The Soulkeepers series (is "series" singular or plural?)(which consists of six books) and The Fablehaven series (which is five books long). The customers on Amazon say that the Fablehaven series is as good as Harry Potter so I was astonished that I hadn't heard about it already.
And now about the man on the streets which I had mentioned in the title: yesterday evening, me and dad went out to get something to eat. We stopped near a famous shop which was famous (duh) for it's fast food. Dad went to get something to eat while stood near the motorbike. That's when I saw the man: he was bald and wearing a white loincloth around his waist, and a simple white sleeveless sweatshirt. he was holding a few cheap ball-point pens in his left hand and presenting a green one to passing people. They did not take notice; he did not exist for them. now I am a writer so deep thinking comes naturally to me. I don't remember everything that raced through my mind at that moment but I did not want to be near him. A woman did stop to buy a pen. A few seconds later, to my utter horror, I realized that she was actually bargaining with him. She, I reflected, was doing exactly what the Europeans had been doing with the Asian and African nations: She was taking advantage of the poor man's helplessness. He finally sold her a pen.
Dad came out of the shop with a bag full of some delicious tastiness. You would expect that I, who's heart was melted by the sight of the poor old man, took out something from the bag and gave him to eat. I did what any human would have done: I didn't share. I sat behind dad and we rode back home. I imagined me instead of the man; decreased to selling pens to support his family, the weight of the world upon me. I decided the woman who bought the pens from him was evil. Could she not have spent a little more for the man? It wouldn't have affected her life in the slightest. But then the other half of my brain got activated.
Are you better?
It was true. Was I, or any of the other people who had ignored the man, better than the woman? Afterall, hadn't she helped the man, even if she had cheated him? The other people had not even cared. I had not even cared. What right did I have to think of the woman as evil?
You are worse.
I realized that there was no particular line between good and bad. the graph between good and bad was just an illusion. It changed with the person. All that mattered was perspective.
And now about the man on the streets which I had mentioned in the title: yesterday evening, me and dad went out to get something to eat. We stopped near a famous shop which was famous (duh) for it's fast food. Dad went to get something to eat while stood near the motorbike. That's when I saw the man: he was bald and wearing a white loincloth around his waist, and a simple white sleeveless sweatshirt. he was holding a few cheap ball-point pens in his left hand and presenting a green one to passing people. They did not take notice; he did not exist for them. now I am a writer so deep thinking comes naturally to me. I don't remember everything that raced through my mind at that moment but I did not want to be near him. A woman did stop to buy a pen. A few seconds later, to my utter horror, I realized that she was actually bargaining with him. She, I reflected, was doing exactly what the Europeans had been doing with the Asian and African nations: She was taking advantage of the poor man's helplessness. He finally sold her a pen.
Dad came out of the shop with a bag full of some delicious tastiness. You would expect that I, who's heart was melted by the sight of the poor old man, took out something from the bag and gave him to eat. I did what any human would have done: I didn't share. I sat behind dad and we rode back home. I imagined me instead of the man; decreased to selling pens to support his family, the weight of the world upon me. I decided the woman who bought the pens from him was evil. Could she not have spent a little more for the man? It wouldn't have affected her life in the slightest. But then the other half of my brain got activated.
Are you better?
It was true. Was I, or any of the other people who had ignored the man, better than the woman? Afterall, hadn't she helped the man, even if she had cheated him? The other people had not even cared. I had not even cared. What right did I have to think of the woman as evil?
You are worse.
I realized that there was no particular line between good and bad. the graph between good and bad was just an illusion. It changed with the person. All that mattered was perspective.
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