I just got to the library and set up my laptop and got out my planner and paper and things...minding my own business, being as quiet and respectful as I could be. There was another student about 15 feet away looking cool trying to read. He shifted his eyes to look at me, staring, while I started writing in my planner. Then he burst into angry-conversation-mode saying with and outside voice (mind you, this is a library), "Is there ANY place in this G**D*** library that doesn't have all this ambient noise?! I'm trying to read and I can't F****** concentrate for S***!!" "Maybe upstairs," I replied, smiling big all the while thinking in my head calm down mister, just focus and let everything else go, and if that doesn't work then you have issues you need to deal with before you are going to be able to read. And, "F***" he stormed off upstairs.
The moment and my reaction felt like something out of A Peaceful Warrior. It's an odd sort of realization for me to see in myself that I did not feel bad for him (I feel that I usually would--I may even have felt guilty, as if I poked in the last straw, making him snap), not in the least. I smiled. I wasn't scared. I saw that he was creating this stress and needed to release it some how, and it just came out like this. He had something, and still may, bent up in every direction inside of himself and it needed to stretch.
The moment and my reaction felt like something out of A Peaceful Warrior. It's an odd sort of realization for me to see in myself that I did not feel bad for him (I feel that I usually would--I may even have felt guilty, as if I poked in the last straw, making him snap), not in the least. I smiled. I wasn't scared. I saw that he was creating this stress and needed to release it some how, and it just came out like this. He had something, and still may, bent up in every direction inside of himself and it needed to stretch.
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