Life is tough sometimes. As important as it is to humble yourself when you’re on top of the world, it’s a lot harder to find hope when things are down. In times like these, it’s reassuring to appreciate the things you have, as small as they may be. Being a glass half full kind of person, I’ve found resonance in a recently Googled quote:
“Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies” — Mother Teresa
This holds especially true when everything in your life, like mine, is slowly falling into shambles.
Among the countless debts, rejections, failures and stubbing your little toe on the edge of a table, it keeps me sane counting the minor victories in life. Sometimes they can be hard to find — with life being such a remorseful cesspool of crushed dreams and all — but if you look hard enough, you might just discover that you’re not as worthless a piece of shit as you thought you were.
I’ll give you an example. I recently finished watching the new Netflix original (I get $5 every time if I say it like that), A Series of Unfortunate Events. Candid dark-humour, well-done characters, and a re-invention of the book’s style enlivened through a visual medium; it was pretty good. Although, it wasn’t amazing, and for that, I can’t help but ponder what kept me watching. After a losing battle between my moral compass and my primal instincts (Oh boy), I figured out, or stopped kidding myself rather, the real reason I was able to sit through a children’s show adapted from a book I had never read. It was the actress who played Violet. Now before you go on judging me saying, “Eww, isn’t Violet only like 14 years old?!” Well I’m not talking about the character, I’m referring to the actress who portrays her.
If it’s any consolation, she looks a lot older in the show than she does in her images on Google (which really don’t bode well for my defence here). I was trying really hard not to be attracted to her, but my attempts were futile. How can you ignore biology?
“The heart wants what it wants”- Selena Gomez
Now going back to minor victories, and how there’s one in this story, I can tell you that I’ve never found it this difficult not to masturbate over a 13 year old. Between my carnal urges and the law, lied confusion. “Age is just a number” was starting to make sense — Wait, let me rephrase that—I don’t need society making me feel bad about jerking it over a 13 year old when puberty’s already given me the green light. O.K., just to rephrase once more, unless 13 year olds are like the gateway drug for paedophiles, I don’t think this is such a big deal.
That being said, I didn’t do it. I’m a gentleman, and chivalry isn’t dead (Chivalry noun: A moral code for selecting your wanks in accordance with social standards). It felt wrong, and so I made a conscious effort not to desecrate the image of this child (although Chloe Grace Moretz wasn’t so lucky a few years ago). In spite of this rather “series of unfortunate events”, I was able to unearth some sense of morality from a previously empty soul, and that in itself is an everyday victory.