If we don't change, we don't grow. If we don't grow, we aren't really living. - Anatole France
@PensivePost #quote
@PensivePost #quote
“There is virtue in work and there is virtue in rest. Use both and overlook neither.” Alan Cohen
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@PensivePost #quote
Now that I teach, every family gathering is a parent-teacher conference.
@PensivePost #RandomThoughts
@PensivePost #RandomThoughts
Stealing From The Dead Is Never A Good Idea
This happened when I was still in high school.It was a Friday afternoon and our basketball team had a home game later that night, so my buddies and I got some beer and had a pre-game at the cemetery right by our school (don’t ask me why it was at the cemetery, we just went there every time because it was hidden and no one was ever there to catch us.)When it would get dark out we would like to try and scare each other/play games. Like “let’s see who can run the farthest into the cemetery without getting creped out and turning around.”Well this time when my friend Pete ran off into the darkness, he didn’t return. After about 10 or 15 minutes we started to worry so we began to call out his name and look around for him. After about 5 minutes of this Pete ran up behind us and scared the living shit out of us. But he came back with something.“Guys look what I found lying on a headstone!” he told us.It was an old weathered looking rose, looked like it had been there for years. We told him to put it back and that it was probably not a good idea to steal from a dead person. But he refused and threw it on the back dash of his car. We then left for the basketball game and went on with our night.But something was weird about this flower, it stayed there for the rest of the time I knew him. We would ride in his car to a party and mess with the flower all the time, break it and throw it out the window, things like that. But it always returned. It would always be sitting there on his back dash when we would get back in his car.At first, we figured he was just playing a trick on us, thinking he had bought a whole bunch of these types of flowers and would just place a new one back there after we threw it out the window. But Pete declined ever placing a new one back there. It was also a very particular rose that he had, so it would be very hard to recreate the same design every time.One night he was taking us home after a party and we couldn’t find the flower in his car anywhere. We asked him and he said if it wasn’t sitting there then he didn’t know what happened to it. We never found it and he dropped us off like normal.It wasn’t until the morning after that I found out Pete had killed himself on the way home that night.I couldn’t make it to his funeral but I eventually went to visit his grave, he was buried in that same cemetery that we would always hang out in and drink. But my stomach sank when I walked up to his grave and saw that rose flower, sitting on top of his headstone. That same flower that was in his car for all that time.To this day every time I go back to visit his grave that flower is always on top of his headstone, hopefully never to be taken by another group of young dumb kids.
@PensivePost #story by Teej
This happened when I was still in high school.It was a Friday afternoon and our basketball team had a home game later that night, so my buddies and I got some beer and had a pre-game at the cemetery right by our school (don’t ask me why it was at the cemetery, we just went there every time because it was hidden and no one was ever there to catch us.)When it would get dark out we would like to try and scare each other/play games. Like “let’s see who can run the farthest into the cemetery without getting creped out and turning around.”Well this time when my friend Pete ran off into the darkness, he didn’t return. After about 10 or 15 minutes we started to worry so we began to call out his name and look around for him. After about 5 minutes of this Pete ran up behind us and scared the living shit out of us. But he came back with something.“Guys look what I found lying on a headstone!” he told us.It was an old weathered looking rose, looked like it had been there for years. We told him to put it back and that it was probably not a good idea to steal from a dead person. But he refused and threw it on the back dash of his car. We then left for the basketball game and went on with our night.But something was weird about this flower, it stayed there for the rest of the time I knew him. We would ride in his car to a party and mess with the flower all the time, break it and throw it out the window, things like that. But it always returned. It would always be sitting there on his back dash when we would get back in his car.At first, we figured he was just playing a trick on us, thinking he had bought a whole bunch of these types of flowers and would just place a new one back there after we threw it out the window. But Pete declined ever placing a new one back there. It was also a very particular rose that he had, so it would be very hard to recreate the same design every time.One night he was taking us home after a party and we couldn’t find the flower in his car anywhere. We asked him and he said if it wasn’t sitting there then he didn’t know what happened to it. We never found it and he dropped us off like normal.It wasn’t until the morning after that I found out Pete had killed himself on the way home that night.I couldn’t make it to his funeral but I eventually went to visit his grave, he was buried in that same cemetery that we would always hang out in and drink. But my stomach sank when I walked up to his grave and saw that rose flower, sitting on top of his headstone. That same flower that was in his car for all that time.To this day every time I go back to visit his grave that flower is always on top of his headstone, hopefully never to be taken by another group of young dumb kids.
@PensivePost #story by Teej