I can safely tell the world that I definitely called this one. It's not that whoever laughs last laughs best, but rather that we shouldn't be laughing at one another's demise at all. As a finance guy, I have been following the current turmoil faced by our current economic status. I felt that despite Wachovia's hard work that they too would be subject to failure and that no financier, not even the undersecretary for the US Treasury could turn it around.
Wachovia was a little more susceptible than others because Wachovia for one, only had their cash flows to rely upon. Even there, their cash flows were like a stream that was drying up. I wrote about Morgan Stanley in a stock analysis a couple days back and stated that in the end, Wachovia would benefit more from a merger of equals than Morgan Stanley. Why? Because Morgan Stanley already had assets. Their assets were a few hundred billion. Even if Morgan Stanley went belly-under and had to liquidate everything, the fact that they could make back even as much as a few billion was enough to say that they were still going to be okay. Wachovia on the other hand ran into a situation where they only had cash flows, that is future cash flows, to rely upon. Be that as it may, a future cash flow in the accounting world is an asset by definition of FASB no. 7, but it is also a discounted asset making it worth less. From that analysis, I felt that Wachovia didn't have any real assets and were in a lot of danger if their debtors came knocking at the door. After all, how would you respond if the person who owed you $100 said they would pay you when they got paid?
I tried to warn people. That is, people that I knew and cared about. I told them that if they really wanted the opportunity to make money, they would have to go to the where the money would be, not where the money currently was. It makes perfect sense and yes, it was borrowed from Wayne Gretzky saying he got really good because skated to where the puck would be. Now, I think the puck is currently sitting around in precious metals and commodities. I, for one, would have made a lot of money on gold. However, due to my circumstances, I didn't. So did anybody I know make money off of gold? Yes. Mom, dad, aunt, uncles... They followed my advice. Well, sort of. My mom and dad didn't follow my advice entirely because my dad's Midas Touch turned gold into... well, success. They predicted the markets and played it well. He rode it out from when gold was $600 per troy ounce and is now enjoying himself in retirement. Previously, it was a forced retirement because nobody would hire him (in the US, others would consider it age discrimination).
Regardless, the ship has sailed. Where it will go to, that would depend. In these uncertain times, I am sure that figuratively speaking the ship will return to stocks someday, but for now, it is going to be in the commodities markets and will make it to the forex markets. How long it will stay in each, I honestly cannot predict. Yet.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Good Music :)
This is not mine, nor is it my channel. I found this off of YouTube and really thought it was quite entertaining, so much so that it gets a special place here in my blogger world! Yeah, I bet that if I ever meet a woman that can play this song (but in a different manner that is more passionate than this) I would fall in love with her. Yep. Read more about "The Perfect Woman" in one of my other postings from this same month.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Why Forex Makes Sense (Forex Trading to Make Oodles)
Mom and dad always taught me that having money can allow somebody to literally make money. Small quantities can become larger quantities, but larger quantities can create exponentially larger quantities. But in order to make money, sometimes you have to lose money in order to gain knowledge and experience. They also taught me that sometimes, one could easily make money by simply having that money change hands. They were right.
Implicitly, I guess I always knew. They introduced me to forex trading at a very young age with a very simple concept. Money will always be money, no matter what form it's in. If you had money and you sold it to a broker, then you'll get money in return. If you take money and sell it and then hold on to it until the demand for that currency you now have goes up, well, it'll just continue to go upwards. Right? That's the goal, but what if the currency goes in the other direction? Well guess what, so does your income tax and so often do the products and commodities of that country.
Take for example, Thailand, a beautiful country. I often exchange my currency for Thai Baht because if the US dollar strengthens against the Thai Baht, I can make a profit. If it gets weaker, that's still okay because the prices of basic things that I need have not. I can still purchase a shirt for cheap, I can still purchase a belt for a lower price than in the states (and still pay less by having it shipped to the States than purchasing it from Wal-Mart). Now, if by chance the currency goes up anytime soon, well that's just peachy for me and I can exchange it back. My gains are lower, but hey, so are my taxes.
If it gets to a point where it is very clear that the currency will continue to slide downwards and never go upwards and I have no needs for the products of that country, then I will exchange it. However, this is where the follies of many traders appear. You see, you don't need to convert back to US dollars. You can always exchange to British Pounds or the German Mark. Just as there are stocks with correlations, economies also have correlations. It's up to the trader to be educated about the currencies and economies. Generally though, this is pretty easy to find because you can just go to the major stock indices of each country and cross reference them over a 5 year period and see what kind of correlation is there.
Regardless of your decision, you will lose money but you will also gain money. You gain very little at a time and therefore you need to buy and sell either frequently or in large volumes. As for me, I do this frequently because I do not have a large volume of money. Well, I do not know how compelling this is to everybody, but you are more than welcome to comment and leave me your thoughts. I leave you with one final thought: this is my experience with currency exchange, and actually, I have been more successful in the past when technology was not so great. Nowadays, with things being so quick, I am not as able to take advantage of arbitrage opportunities like I used to so I have given that up. Hopefully, I will learn about new arbitrage opportunities and I will tell you about it all later.
Best of luck, cheers!
Implicitly, I guess I always knew. They introduced me to forex trading at a very young age with a very simple concept. Money will always be money, no matter what form it's in. If you had money and you sold it to a broker, then you'll get money in return. If you take money and sell it and then hold on to it until the demand for that currency you now have goes up, well, it'll just continue to go upwards. Right? That's the goal, but what if the currency goes in the other direction? Well guess what, so does your income tax and so often do the products and commodities of that country.
Take for example, Thailand, a beautiful country. I often exchange my currency for Thai Baht because if the US dollar strengthens against the Thai Baht, I can make a profit. If it gets weaker, that's still okay because the prices of basic things that I need have not. I can still purchase a shirt for cheap, I can still purchase a belt for a lower price than in the states (and still pay less by having it shipped to the States than purchasing it from Wal-Mart). Now, if by chance the currency goes up anytime soon, well that's just peachy for me and I can exchange it back. My gains are lower, but hey, so are my taxes.
If it gets to a point where it is very clear that the currency will continue to slide downwards and never go upwards and I have no needs for the products of that country, then I will exchange it. However, this is where the follies of many traders appear. You see, you don't need to convert back to US dollars. You can always exchange to British Pounds or the German Mark. Just as there are stocks with correlations, economies also have correlations. It's up to the trader to be educated about the currencies and economies. Generally though, this is pretty easy to find because you can just go to the major stock indices of each country and cross reference them over a 5 year period and see what kind of correlation is there.
Regardless of your decision, you will lose money but you will also gain money. You gain very little at a time and therefore you need to buy and sell either frequently or in large volumes. As for me, I do this frequently because I do not have a large volume of money. Well, I do not know how compelling this is to everybody, but you are more than welcome to comment and leave me your thoughts. I leave you with one final thought: this is my experience with currency exchange, and actually, I have been more successful in the past when technology was not so great. Nowadays, with things being so quick, I am not as able to take advantage of arbitrage opportunities like I used to so I have given that up. Hopefully, I will learn about new arbitrage opportunities and I will tell you about it all later.
Best of luck, cheers!
If You Can't Step Up, Step Out
So here's the deal, the financial institutions in the US have been wrought with turmoil this past week and everybody is confused. Everybody thinks the US stock markets will be on the rise tomorrow due to President Bush's intervention and I don't disagree with them. However, here's my two cents on the issue: we should have let these institutions go bankrupt!
Perhaps this is a moral hazard or an unethical action, but after all, "You reap what you sow," right? Why is it I can start up a company and have 500 employees and fail while these companies can have much, much more and not be allowed to fail? Well, because with them go the US economy, right? Wrong! What they did was inherently wrong and if they didn't save up their money like reasonably prudent people, they should not be saved with my money in my opinion. And this $700 billion bailout... well, chances are this is going to be financed by more taxes and increase our federal deficit. I am highly against this because I believe in free-market capitalism. At the rate we're going, we might even end up socialists!
Not to mention, what do you think is going to happen to the US dollar by this action? And inflation? We already had some problems dealing with inflation, how does adding $700 billion dollars help that? It doesn't. As far as I'm concerned, it should be survival of the fittest and so far, Goldman-Sachs is proving fittest (sort of). As I always said, "Step up or step out." In this case, it would be the right thing for multiple other investment banks to "step out" if you ask me. And what about their employees, you know, the good-hearted, hard-working folks? Well, have you heard of an "enabler?" I don't know how to define "enabler" to you other than to put it in context to a story. If Person A goes out drinking Sunday night and is unable to work on Monday morning, the enabler would be the person who calls the Person A's company and tells the company Person A is sick and unable to work or even call because they are extremely sick. Person A becomes used to being saved and continues engaging in activities that are unhealthy and the enabler, perhaps the kindest person on the planet, ends up cleaning up the mess.
I used to be an enabler. Maybe my story is different from the Person A story, but the fact is, I stepped out. I moved away from helping Person A and let Person A grow on their own because there was no other way. Now, Person A is a successfully retired person who is financially stable. Unfortunately, Person A no longer talks to me thinking I betrayed Person A, but let's face it, they are much better today than where they were years ago.
But I digress... The fact is the good enablers of these financial giants need to stop enabling these financial institutions from having their way with the world. If we let them sink, as we initially did with Merrill Lynch and Lehman Brothers, then the ones who worked hard and saved their money and made lunch to skip out on spending money one day will be rewarded most. After all, what's the point of working hard, saving, and being financially prudent if all we needed to do was say, "Bankrupt!" and have the government step in to save us? None at this point... but then again, maybe the lesson to be learned here is that "The meek will inherit the debts of the bold."
While we shall see, I am inherently apathetic to this issue because I worked hard and am not affected by the series of events from this. Furthermore, I did nto invest in stocks at all during this time period, rather, I had my money overseas.
A Demonstration of Integrity
At the beginning of this semester, I was concerned for my funding situation and a possibility of being unable to embark onto my final year of college. This concern was eventually quelled by a couple of scholarships that made this semester possible. Word did not spread so quickly though, despite having written several letters of appreciation. A previous and well-respected professor of mine remembered my situation and prepared to nominate me for a particular scholarship. I wanted to say accept the nomination, I really did. Not only would winning this scholarship allow me to continue into the next semesters, but the scholarship would provide a bit of extra money for books, parking, and the like. However, I refused.
If it were you and you were me, what would your decision have been? If you still think I was stupid for refusing, recall my life goal of establishing a scholarship in my parents name. Now, would it be right for me to take away another student's scholarship money when I already had enough to press forward? To me, I considered it a hypocrisy to claim a need for scholarship funding when I no longer needed the additional funds. I also took that to a higher level of extremity when I thought that it as stealing from the students that I wanted to help in the first place. I stuck to my guns and gave up that scholarship. Do I regret it? No. In fact, if I were truly where I want to be for my integrity, I should be assisting the people providing the scholarship to the students in terms of finding more funds or helping the awarding committee with making their scholarship process easier.
Airport Security
Yes sir, I was on another flight again today. Having gone nearly 3 full years without leaving Denver, I went on 3 different trips in the last five days. The vacations/work themselves were fun, but I will attempt to work harder to avoid any additional traveling in the near future.
What is going on with me? I was departing from Seattle just last Saturday. I checked in relatively early, and it all went well. The ticketing agent was attractive, might I add, but upon encountering security, my charm ran away. I started by handing my id and boarding pass to the TSA agent. She looked it over with a careful eye, looked up at me, and returned her gaze back to the id. This continued for what seemed like an eternity, as if she were thinking this guy's evil, but eventually returned everything, and with a stern voice, called out, "Have a good day," like it were an ominous warning rather than a positive adieu. I thanked her over my shoulder, and proceeded towards the metal detectors and x-ray machines.
I removed my shoes, watch, cell phone, and necklace, and placed them in the plastic tray, alongside of my laptops and my bag. I walked through the metal detectors and then a TSA called out, "Who is the owner of this bag?" I looked over, and raised my hand calmly. "Sir, come with us," the agent beckoned. From there, my baggage was checked in an overly thorough manner, and I was checked too. As you can imagine, I passed all of the tests, but the problem was that because all of my belongings were strewn about the table, it was a burden to say the least to restore my belongings in their rightful places in my bag.
Now, an occassional check here and there is fine, but this is becoming ridiculous. I left for San Diego this morning, and despite the fact that I was running late for my flight today, I got pulled aside (again) and went through exactly the same process. On my return trip from San Diego, they did the exact same thing to me... this time without taking stuff out of my bag.
I am happy to report that security is positively doing the right thing, and the security agents certainly did not discriminate (as they called for merely the owner of the bag and did not single me out). However, what am I doing that is making these people think I am inherently diabolical? I carried two different bags with two very different sets of items inside, why is it I am being screened so frequently? The agents, as you know, do not look at ids AND THEN SCREEN, but they have two different sets of agents look at ids and conduct the tests. If the tests are random, what are the chances of me getting screened, 3 out of 4? Honestly, I am more annoyed than anything. I almost left my music player at the airport due to the perhaps excessive screening. What really tickes my feathers is that if I were more devious, I could still find ways around security given their tests that were conducted, but honestly, I think I will just avoid traveling for... the next 3 years or so.
What is going on with me? I was departing from Seattle just last Saturday. I checked in relatively early, and it all went well. The ticketing agent was attractive, might I add, but upon encountering security, my charm ran away. I started by handing my id and boarding pass to the TSA agent. She looked it over with a careful eye, looked up at me, and returned her gaze back to the id. This continued for what seemed like an eternity, as if she were thinking this guy's evil, but eventually returned everything, and with a stern voice, called out, "Have a good day," like it were an ominous warning rather than a positive adieu. I thanked her over my shoulder, and proceeded towards the metal detectors and x-ray machines.
I removed my shoes, watch, cell phone, and necklace, and placed them in the plastic tray, alongside of my laptops and my bag. I walked through the metal detectors and then a TSA called out, "Who is the owner of this bag?" I looked over, and raised my hand calmly. "Sir, come with us," the agent beckoned. From there, my baggage was checked in an overly thorough manner, and I was checked too. As you can imagine, I passed all of the tests, but the problem was that because all of my belongings were strewn about the table, it was a burden to say the least to restore my belongings in their rightful places in my bag.
Now, an occassional check here and there is fine, but this is becoming ridiculous. I left for San Diego this morning, and despite the fact that I was running late for my flight today, I got pulled aside (again) and went through exactly the same process. On my return trip from San Diego, they did the exact same thing to me... this time without taking stuff out of my bag.
I am happy to report that security is positively doing the right thing, and the security agents certainly did not discriminate (as they called for merely the owner of the bag and did not single me out). However, what am I doing that is making these people think I am inherently diabolical? I carried two different bags with two very different sets of items inside, why is it I am being screened so frequently? The agents, as you know, do not look at ids AND THEN SCREEN, but they have two different sets of agents look at ids and conduct the tests. If the tests are random, what are the chances of me getting screened, 3 out of 4? Honestly, I am more annoyed than anything. I almost left my music player at the airport due to the perhaps excessive screening. What really tickes my feathers is that if I were more devious, I could still find ways around security given their tests that were conducted, but honestly, I think I will just avoid traveling for... the next 3 years or so.
Two Snakes, One Prey
Despite all of my work in development and leadership, I am facing a difficult strife in my life. Please understand that it is a personal issue, but that I am unable to move beyond this barrier and would really like to have input, feedback, and your advice to coach me and let me grow.
There are certain people that I know, just two really, that I have befriended since a while ago. Speaking analagously, I knew it then just as I know now that those two people would back-stab me and throw me under the bus when the situation fits their needs or when they are unable or unwilling to face the music. Spineless.
Their presence has always been latent conflict. I accepted that.
For the past year and half, they have allowed me to grow mentally and emotionally. Their willingness to stab me behind my back (assuming I would never find out) has allowed me to time my actions and growth, filter the allocation of important information, and manage my relationships. They have also taught me the magnitude of the politics of socialization in my life. After all, these people have their uses to me, much like leeches that suck away the bad blood from my system and make me healthier, or like having a snake close by to keep me tense but relaxed to prevent the snake strike. I have learned a lot from both of them, but here comes the problem I am unable to pass.
I cannot stop myself from building animosity towards these individuals. My goal with them was to help them grow (a spine) just as much as they helped me grow mentally. I know it is only natural have disdain towards individuals that have proven two-faced, but I always knew that along about them. Also, instead of me growing further and learning to better manage things, I am beginning to foster ill-will towards them in all of their actions; some of their actions emanating a reflection of who I am, if you will. I have never been angry with the truth about me, but it seems that everything that they are doing just angers me. I need to get past that, but I do not want to sever all ties as I have stated that they have allowed me to grow.
But maybe it is time to sever ties and traverse in different directions, but that would be the same as removing an asset. All assets have their uses in different times, some assets can hurt if too much is invested into them. I prefer not to sever any ties, I also prefer to keep the snakes close because as quickly as they can lash out at me, the same could be about them to my enemies and other threats. Maybe that is my solution, keeping close but a touch farther away. I do not know, but the fact is, everything that occurs between them and me irritates the me. It is irritating so much so that I am beginning to lose over their actions. I am at a loss. With all that has been said, with so much more that has not, what would you do if you were in my shoes?
Today, I Smile Genuinely
As you are all well aware, my excess time is spent tutoring (not mentoring, mind you) other students who need it or desire it. There are those that I encounter who are just plain lazy and desire nothing more than an immediate solution to their homework. One such student that I tutored was like this today, but actually, today really made me smile.
The student at first wanted help with his homework in a management course. Having fallen asleep in class, this student was what we college folks call, "S-O-L." Not only did he not want to complete his assignment, he also knew not how to even begin. Throw in a time crunch of a few hours for a project, and you have our situation.
We began by analyzing the homework assignment, step-by-step. Beginning with the quantitative problems, I began by pulling out a calculator and telling the student I could not remember anything. I lied. I then told him to remind me about what he recalled and to try to focus on that. So he tried. He failed a lot. Retracing his steps and glancing over the daunting material numerous times, he whined and made suppositions on the overall quality of the professor's teachings. I then pulled up a spreadsheet on the computer, ignoring him. Deciding that he needed to be nudged further, I began entering all of the numbers into the spreadsheet that was given in the problem. I knew that entering an entire table's worth of data would normally take him hours, so I challenged him with evil looks. When he saw how quickly and efficiently the data flowed on the spreadsheet, something in his eyes was piqued. The student's apathy dissolved into mild curiosity. Halfway through the data entries, he began fervently asking about everything; about the computer's capacity to integrate abstract thought with quantitative functions, to practical usages of managerial principles.
By now, there were merely minutes left until his assignment was due and a plethora of problems left to complete. You know what though, the student took that opportunity to perform under pressure and it was systematic precision at its finest. Literally taking the keyboard away from me, he began computing solutions. His answers flowed so quickly and smoothly that he finished his work and even ended up having time to purchase a soda pop and run to the bathroom (not quite in that order, ironically)! After completion, he even presented pointers about I could have been better in my approach to the same set of problems. And he was right, his suggestions were that much better!
This student... his apathy... it seems to me that it took nothing more than a mild computer program and the Celtic Stare of Death. This is what a professor undoubtedly feels after seeing his or her student perform and exceed expectations. Was this the first tutoree to achieve this sort of task at this caliber? Actually, yes. Most other students I tutor become complacent with having the ability and knowledge to approach the same problem, but not zealously venture further. This is only conjecture, but I would venture to say that this student even had a thing or two to show the professor in class!
If you cannot tell, I was quite proud of this specifc student. It is not like a college student in this day and age to surpass his master, especially with ideas as complex as organizational design and theory. But you know what I learned, aside from better practical managerial applications? A handful of these experiences and a myriad of students like him, and the world will be theirs. If my students were like him, I know that they would definitely make me their leader, because is it not true that a leader should not be as good as his subordinates? After all, his subordinates should be in the position where they would excel the furthest.
Today, I smiled a genuine smile for the first time in a long time.
Well, Was It Worth It?
I play hard, study hard, work hard, and live hard. It feels as though I am so unrelenting like a firestorm that engulfs everything in my way. I can tell I have left many in the wake of my destruction feeling burnt, to say the least. I feel for them, I really do. In fact, today was one of those days where even I burned myself.
My day began quite normally: 8:30am wake-up call from my phone, 15 minutes doing my morning brushing, reading, showeing, 15 more minutes getting food. It turned out to be a typical day for the most part: going to class, studying afterwards, doing miscellaneous work before the next class, studying some more, and going to more class. Apparently however, I was studying so hard today that I neglected to go do this thing called "lunch." By now, it's 7:00pm. No lunch, no dinner... yet. I lied to myself and thought I ought to prepare my own dinner over buying dinner. It would taste better, be healthier, and cost less -- three sure-fire signs to sway in that direction.
Tonight however, developed slightly more differently. Somebody I made a promise to cashed in on my promise. Despite my weak protests, that somebody insisted that I go to the driving range with her. The final straw that broke this camel's back was when she said she would drive me to and from. With my clubs being in my car, all was I thought, "Driving range? Awesome! Free-ride? Sweetness!" Off we went.
Things grew hazy. I recall some details, strange to me what happened and what I recall. After hitting the golf balls, the entire time being a blank, I walked towards somebody's car and time and space was toying with me. The air looked as though it bent and folded, as if Einstein's relativity principles were unfolding before me. Street signs that were seemingly solid waved fluidly in a mock debacle as if poignantly euphamizing that I played too hard, that I studied too hard, that I worked too hard, that I lived too hard. I also recall my mind saying, "Dad, I'm sorry. I beat you home but didn't know what you'd want for dinner." I also recall somewhere that somebody was massaging my head, most likely my sister, the somebody. I was clued in on most of the rest of the details too. I apparently needed some practice swings early on, but after I picked up the driver club at the golf range, 200 yards seemed to be the standard for me. I could not walk in a straight line, nor did I feel the need to apparently, as I walked literally into the doorbell beside my house. Objects also obviously were no matter, as I penetrated the front door without needing to turn the knob first. Regardless of things, I fell down onto my sofa, mumbling something about work/homework/emailing/texting in response to others. After reawakening, I also recall thinking, "Man, this is no time to rest, my buddy is going to be so screwed when he finds out tomorrow I didn't do the rest of the income tax forms! Oh man, how long was I asleep for? Wasn't I doing some emailing or texti-- oh no. I think I was supposed to submit some reports today!" All this without moving a muscle as I finally awoke... on my couch feeling my body give me the finger saying no more abuse, lie still.
Maybe it's a question that I don't want answered, maybe it's a rhetorical question whose answer will prove a false dichotomy. Regardless, I do not have an answer yet, but an abstained inclination leans closer to the negative side of the spectrum. If however, I should live my life, playing weakly, studying rarely, working sporadically, and living scarcely, what kind of life would that be? Again, the answer sways towards the negative, but being only twenty-one years of age, that answer is an unqualified opinion. More importantly, what is "it?" Perhaps the best answer to this question is yet another question: whose time was it worth if it was worth anything at all? I look over to my picture in my profile, and I run-through everything all over again: "Man, is that the kind of strife that leaders, historical and present, face?"
And if I granted a special encounter with a renowned leader of wondrous magnitude but given the opportunity to ask only one question, I still wonder... well, was it worth it?
Today, I Learned...
Of all of the lectures I attend, of all the lectures I tune in to, there was one lecture today where the professor showed me something rather than taught it to me. Until I get out of this stalemate it has put me into, I am going to just be utterly useless.
The class was just a normal class: accounting at its finest one afternoon. Just one giant game of circumlocution. I was in a bedazzled state, one lacking in awe or enthusiasm. With much time left before class was scheduled for dismissal, our professor felt compelled to discuss the history behind the story in our case study. He told the history of a man with whom he was once acquainted...
A brilliant man this case study revolved around. To say the least, that man's talent was inversely proportional to his power in his company, despite being a full-fledged partner. According to the professor, this man was the best at what he did: tax accounting. When the firm he was working for began merging with another extremely large firm, this man's worth was nothing more than an ice cube in scotch. Those involved with structuring the merger felt his skills were highly useful, but more applicable to a different situation and thus shuffled his responsibilities and duties. In reallocating duties to the man, he wound up in a subpar place that was much farther from his expertise. Knowingly or unknowingly, the merger quelled the man's brilliance and flame and, in-turn, his career. The man continued walking that path laid before him by the merger... for a while. As the story continues, this man was said to have been driving around in his car and when he parked beside a bridge, he was never to be heard from ever again.
The story was publicized with the permission of the surviving widower. With the professor having been a friend but not a closer party, speculation subsequently ensued. The theory was that the factor pushing the man to the end of the bridge was of a personal matter -- not with regard to his home life, but with regard to his professional life. Either way, the reason and the cause are still entirely speculative.
As a bystander hearing about this in lieu of a lecture, I was too indolent to challenge this story for any inaccuracies and took his lesson as pure unadulterated truth. That said, the story hit me hard. I am, 21, graduating with a cum laude (if I fail my classes) or a magna cum laude with a BS in Business Administration - Management, Finance, and Accounting, and with the potential of a bright future ahead. Assuming I find a suitable career, I can see some correlation between that brilliant man's path and that which I continue to traverse. As you are aware, my hours of schooling and my hours of work collectively reach 70 hours weekly; Monday alone I am involved with school from 9am-9pm. I have been seen as a 25, 26, even 30 year old by my peers and I can only attribute that to my perspicacious devotion to my jobs and the toll those take on me. Regardless, the story exemplified a trite maxim in daily life taken for granted: put your life first, not your job. His theme and tone was more thought-provoking to me - no, to us as students - right before Thanksgiving break. The underlying theme was true too: work to live, not live to work.
This story does not make me feel more comfortable about my present pace in life and even strips away at what confidence I did possess (or exude for that matter). Contrary to the brilliant man in this story, I am even much less influential and am having much difficulty f inding the career most suitable for me. Perhaps I am just really pessimistic and tired, and as my thalmus overpowers the rest of my core functions, I can't help but wonder about what is to occur to me in the future. I doubt I will have many close friends thereafter to rely on if I find myself in this situation, I mean how many people actually knew about how I was threatened with my life a few weeks back? Beyond the veil of time lies the answer to the inherent problem built by my own past... hopefully something comes along that becomes a panacea for my problem and all ends up well.
But I will find my solution after I find out what is beyond the wall of sleep for my eyelids darken this screen, and my life twirls into a hazy myst.. and this page - this story - quickly turns to nothingness. Why does it concern me...? I'm different from the man. I am... aren't I?
Sorry, I'll have something more light-hearted next time. It's just too late (early) for a story of greater humor.
Luck in Life
I have often wondered why it was my fortune in life sucked compared to others that I have come to know. It seemed to me that the universe was unfair, that those who were highly deserving of a better fate did not get what they deserved. Just think of the single mother fighting to raise her new-born, think of the honest sales guy that had a sale snaked from him, think of those people that show up to work everyday, on-time, and remain loyal to a company for dozens of years but get the pink slip before everybody else. It seems to me that surely, life is unfair with the distribution of luck.
I thought long and hard about this, for no particular reason other than that I had time; reflecting upon my own life as the hard-working student who was too allergic to alcohol to even try to party. I thought, "Heck, even if I wanted to party, I wouldn't have any friends that would be there to watch my back in case I needed ICU or the ER!" Even now, at the age of 21, I remain a single man living at home with his parents. And as I dwelled on my past, things just seemed worse and worse and worse. This is just as it seemed to me. As I reminisced upon every ounce of bad luck, I began thinking... well, then again, I do have my entire house paid for... I never really made loads of friends in high school, but nobody really hated me either... And come to think about it, while I have two jobs and go to school full-time, I always seem to slide by with a higher grade than the other kid that has nothing BUT time to party. Hm... Maybe I am luckier in life than I thought...
I guess luck has always been what I made of it. I never realized it, but while I failed in many things in life, I subconsciously learned to grow from those experiences. I learned to look at the optimistic side of things and ended up becoming a better person altogether. While my past was not filled with the rambunctious joy that an immature teenager would have experienced, my past was still filled with laughter created from time spent with family. The reason why any holiday season seemed just like any other day of the year was truly because it WAS just any other day of the year. I live at home, and probably bound to remain single my whole life, but I am able to enjoy every day as if it was a holiday. I also get more shots at random, suprirse gifts throughout the entire year too!
...So, I might not be the guy that wins that million dollar lottery drawing, and I definitely did not win that brand new car, but now that I think about it, I did win a free Xbox 360 and Halo 3! That to me is a million dollars. But that's just me. What about the single mother, the poor salesperson, and the ex-employee? I adjusted my perceptual lens, and I thought well, the single mother is more likely to enjoy the company of her grandchildren at a younger age and is going to experience a different kind of joy than the normal lady, the poor salesperson is more likely to demonstrate growth over the long-run having learned his lesson the first time (not to mention the fact that he still has friends to talk to about the problem), and the ex-employee demonstrates the qualities that are difficult to find in an ideal leader, which thereby makes him more desireable in a management capacity with greater pay and more job satisfaction. Huh, the silver lining truly does exist... Life -- in all its grandeur -- has a funny way of playing with irony. To me, all the luck that one bears is more luck than any other person, but it just takes the trained eye to see that luck clearly. If ever I awaken to feel dissatisfaction with my life, I will look back to this blog, I will think back to my past, and I will remember that for whatever reason for my dissatisfaction, my overall luck is strong. I am the luckiest man I know and I will continue to thrive as the luckiest man ever if I so choose to walk that path.
... I guess, what I'm trying to say is, I shouldn't give up on myself, the world hasn't given up on me.
I thought long and hard about this, for no particular reason other than that I had time; reflecting upon my own life as the hard-working student who was too allergic to alcohol to even try to party. I thought, "Heck, even if I wanted to party, I wouldn't have any friends that would be there to watch my back in case I needed ICU or the ER!" Even now, at the age of 21, I remain a single man living at home with his parents. And as I dwelled on my past, things just seemed worse and worse and worse. This is just as it seemed to me. As I reminisced upon every ounce of bad luck, I began thinking... well, then again, I do have my entire house paid for... I never really made loads of friends in high school, but nobody really hated me either... And come to think about it, while I have two jobs and go to school full-time, I always seem to slide by with a higher grade than the other kid that has nothing BUT time to party. Hm... Maybe I am luckier in life than I thought...
I guess luck has always been what I made of it. I never realized it, but while I failed in many things in life, I subconsciously learned to grow from those experiences. I learned to look at the optimistic side of things and ended up becoming a better person altogether. While my past was not filled with the rambunctious joy that an immature teenager would have experienced, my past was still filled with laughter created from time spent with family. The reason why any holiday season seemed just like any other day of the year was truly because it WAS just any other day of the year. I live at home, and probably bound to remain single my whole life, but I am able to enjoy every day as if it was a holiday. I also get more shots at random, suprirse gifts throughout the entire year too!
...So, I might not be the guy that wins that million dollar lottery drawing, and I definitely did not win that brand new car, but now that I think about it, I did win a free Xbox 360 and Halo 3! That to me is a million dollars. But that's just me. What about the single mother, the poor salesperson, and the ex-employee? I adjusted my perceptual lens, and I thought well, the single mother is more likely to enjoy the company of her grandchildren at a younger age and is going to experience a different kind of joy than the normal lady, the poor salesperson is more likely to demonstrate growth over the long-run having learned his lesson the first time (not to mention the fact that he still has friends to talk to about the problem), and the ex-employee demonstrates the qualities that are difficult to find in an ideal leader, which thereby makes him more desireable in a management capacity with greater pay and more job satisfaction. Huh, the silver lining truly does exist... Life -- in all its grandeur -- has a funny way of playing with irony. To me, all the luck that one bears is more luck than any other person, but it just takes the trained eye to see that luck clearly. If ever I awaken to feel dissatisfaction with my life, I will look back to this blog, I will think back to my past, and I will remember that for whatever reason for my dissatisfaction, my overall luck is strong. I am the luckiest man I know and I will continue to thrive as the luckiest man ever if I so choose to walk that path.
... I guess, what I'm trying to say is, I shouldn't give up on myself, the world hasn't given up on me.
Wednesday Afternoon
After a dreary day at work, I returned home stopping briefly at my mail box to see if anything important required my attention. Betwixt the scant pile of junk mail that claims my usual Wednesday mail, a letter from my university required my attention. I did not need to open it; the letter was regarding my upcoming graduation (pending passage of my currently enrolled classes this semester).
Setting all my mail on my dining room table, I sat back a bit. Wow, I have come a very, very long way. For all this time, for better or worse, for all those things, I am so close to achieving a major milestone in life. I thought back on all those past experiences which also marked major milestones for me: age 9, moved to a different country to receive an education in my mother's language. Also, first time ever living with a bunch of unruly women. Age 12, got my first job as a busboy for my parent's restaurant. Age 14, found out through rum cake about my allergic reaction to alcohol, and the following day, won my very first state competition in a business event, and decided then that my life would be best lived as a CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Age 15, met many people, including European soccer girls, who all completely altered my then jaded perspective on my life. Age 17-18, graduated from high school and realized that life is what I make it, not what others want for me. Age 19, paid my first real income tax for actually making money doing something with my life.
My memories sped up -- more milestones came flying forward. But my beautiful, unscathed cell phone buzzed at me, reminding me that I just landed from my roundtrip down memory. I stood up, stretching and groaning simultaneously, and glanced back at how much time was spent sitting back. I set aside my university's envelope, beneath the other credit card envelopes-- unopened, untouched...
The Crane
The Story of the Crane
One day, there was a man who just finished closing his textile shop. The gleam of the moon in the still and crisp night-sky struck the man like an arrow. He decided he would take the opportunity to enjoy the evening by walking home through a pass in the forest. On the way, he happened by a riverside, where he saw a beautiful white crane caught in a hunter's trap. His heart immediately went out to the creature and he walked over to free it. The crane feared him, but sensing his good heart, stood firm while he nursed the wound and released her from her confines. He then destroyed the contraption and watched as it spread its beautiful wings and disappeared into the moonlit sky. Seeing the clouds roll in, the man quickly returned to his humble abode where he was peacefully living alone.
Moments after he returned, a thunderstorm rolled in and rain began to pound the earth mercilessly. In the chaos, a gentle knock was heard coming from the entrance to his house. Without thinking, the man jumped up immediately to greet this late-night visitor. He swung open the wooden door and standing before him, a beautiful woman wearing a magnificent, white kimono unlike anything he had ever seen! It radiated a luminescent glow rivaling that of the moonlit path he took to his house. Seeking shelter from the rain, the stunning woman made a proposal: if he could provide her shelter from the rain and learn to love her in time, she would return his kindness by becoming his loving wife. The man, having made a place in his heart for this woman since he first laid eyes upon her, gratefully accepted. And on the evening of the next full moon, the two were happily wed.
For years, the couple lived together peacefully and happily. The man would go about his business and his wife would take care of their house. They continued living together as if it were a fairy-tale ending. But as times changed, so too did the man's business. He would return home tired and weak for seeing no clients for a full day. As the days turned to months, the slump seemed to never end.
The man's loving wife saw her husband's spirits defeated and offered to help. She would make the most beautiful handkerchief ever seen. It would shine like the beautiful, white kimono she wore the stormy night they first met. But, she would make it under one condition: no matter what he hears or how long he waits, he must promise never to enter the room or see her as she spins the handkerchief on the loom. If he fails to keep his promise, the woman would leave him forever. The man, a kind, trusting and loving man, agreed to this condition. The wife then gracefully asked the man to leave the bedroom and close the door behind him. Doing so, the man stood by the door waiting for his wife. He heard the loom begin to spin, and what followed were blood-curdling cries coming from his wife. He knocked on the door and called to her and had his hand on the doorknob, when she reminded him of his promise to her. Beaten by his loyalty to his word, the man lay down and did nothing. Nevertheless, he sat close by, waiting for his wife anxiously as he recited his promise and grit his teeth out of impatience and concern. When the loom stopped many hours later, the man jumped straight to his feet. When his wife opened the door, she held in her palms a beautiful white handkerchief that gave a ruby-red glimmer unlike anything he had ever seen! It was so spectacular that nothing could ever soil it! The woman looked to her husband and asked if it could be sold. The man nodded and accepted it in astonishment. For the rest of the evening, the man tended to his tired wife thinking quietly as he held her that she must have cried a lot. She somehow seemed thinner than he could remember.
News of the seemingly divine handkerchief traveled fast. Ultimately, it was sold to a royal duke for no less than a fortune. With his newfound wealth, the man strengthened his business and created a better life for his beloved. As was expected, the couple continued to live happily together in their lovely and peaceful abode. It seemed the worst was over.
Many moons later, the man's business began to falter once more. The man's wife, who loved him more dearly than life itself, asked after their dinner if there was any way she could help. She proclaimed that she would do anything for him if it meant they could continue cohabitating happily. The man smiled weakly at his wife. He knew what needed to be done but could not bear to hear her cry in agony again. It tore his heart to know that he could not provide for such a wonderful woman. He looked at her familiar and loving eyes, unable to utter a single word. She knew what he was trying to ask but could not say. Without waiting for a reply, she reminded him again of the same request made a long time ago; no matter what he hears or how long he waits, he must promise never to enter the room or see her as she spins the handkerchief on the loom. If he fails to keep his promise, the woman would leave him forever. Upon hearing her words, he nodded weakly. She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door. Her painful cries came about once more as the loom began to spin. The man waited even more anxiously than before and paced about in circles. He knocked on the door and asked if he could bring her anything to eat or if she needed a break. Without stopping, she elegantly commanded him not to enter. He told her if she needed anything that he would be nearby. And once more, he resumed walking in a circle outside the room. When he heard the loom stop many hours later, he ran to the door. His stunning wife looked tired but completely composed as she handed him the same white handkerchief with the same haunting, ruby-red glow. She asked if it was sufficient and could help them live together again happily. The man nodded and hugged his wife firmly in his arms. The man noticed that, despite having dinner before starting, she had become thinner. Even though she spent more time to create this second one, there was no way she could lose so much weight in such a period of time.
He returned to his shop the following morning and quickly announced the sale of the unique handkerchief. Like wildfire, word spread throughout the entire country. When the king heard of this enchanted cloth, he made haste to visit the man. To his majesty’s surprise, the news did the square fabric injustice in capturing the essence of its true beauty. It looked as though the weaver captured the ethereal moonlight and spun it into a cloth. Without hesitating, the king purchased the handkerchief for an even greater fortune than the duke. He also asked the man to make one more for his queen. As payment, the king would give the man wealth beyond his dreams and grant him and his wife the highest status in the royal court. Having heard these words, the man was speechless. He had found a way to provide for his loving wife and give her the life that she deserved. He agreed to this condition and quickly ran home. The full moon bore brightly on the dirt road and he made it home in no time at all.
Upon arriving, he rushed over to his wife and asked her to make one more handkerchief identical to the two she made before. However, she was hesitant-- even with the man's persuasive contention. She asked if the cloth she had made the night before was not enough for the two to survive. The man reassured her it was, but that they could do so much with just one more. He told her how happy it would make him if they could live as royalty and never have to worry about where their next meal would come from. After a few minutes of conversing, he changed his composed wife's decision. If that was what it would take to make him happy, she would make the handkerchief once more. Before starting, she repeated the same request again: no matter what he hears or how long he waits, he must promise never to enter the room or see her as she spins the handkerchief on the loom. If he fails to keep his promise, the woman would leave him forever. The man impatiently agreed and walked her to the bedroom door. He closed it behind her. Sounds of the loom spinning began, and the cries started once more.
While waiting, the man’s mind was frantic. How was she able to create the haunting fabric? Why did it take her longer the second time? What would happen if they created a fourth? Can he learn to make it too? A flurry of questions ran through his head as he paced nervously outside of the room. The man knocked on the door and called to his wife. She responded by commanding him not to enter. He stopped himself and began to pace around while thinking aimlessly once more. So many questions! A few hours later, he succumbed to his impetuous curiosity. Even though the loom was still spinning, he ran to the door and fiercely tore it open, gasping at the sight before him. He dropped to his knees with eyes wide-open in astonishment. Blood covered the entire loom and its gloomy surroundings. In place of the weaver's seat there sat a beautiful, albeit bloody, white crane crying while plucking its beautiful feathers to feed into the machine. The loom came to a stop, but the man was immobile due to his shock. With his jaw gaping open, he turned to the magnificent creature who finished weaving; he looked into its water-logged eyes and noticed a familiar yet loving look. Though the loom had stopped, the tears had not. The crane raised its head to the man but did not meet his eyes. It spoke after a moment's pause in a gracefully familiar voice saying, "You gave me your word but have broken your promise. That kind of betrayal… I cannot forgive. I must leave now, for I can never be with you again."
The words immediately shook the man from his paralysis as he called to the woman-crane and begged and pleaded for forgiveness, saying that he only opened the door because he could not bear to hear the cries any longer. The woman-crane moved past him and made its way to the heavy wooden door, leaving a trail of tears and blood. Not stopping or turning for even a second, the creature spread its majestic wings and flew into the moonlight, still sobbing and crying. The man chased after her, screaming fiercely while running on the ground below. But his efforts were in vain, as she did not slow down and he could not fly. Her silhouette slowly diminished in the night sky, first becoming a shadow, and then a dot, and then vanishing altogether.
The man waited there for several more hours but the woman-crane did not return. At the dawn of the day, he followed the blood-stained trail back home, dragging his feet with his head hung low. He returned to the room where the dream had ended and looked at the finished handkerchief, unable to say a single word. He removed it from the loom and held it in his palms just staring at it. Lost in his own thoughts, he tenderly began folding the fabric. He folded it, and folded it, and folded it some more. When he finished, he set it on top of the loom and left, closing the door behind him. Never again did this door open, and never again did the man return to this humble abode.
---Epilogue---
In the darkness, the folded crane emanated a luminescent glow; a small reminder of a memory more precious than gold. Sitting undisturbed atop the loom of fate, it is the bittersweet child forged from honesty, loyalty, and betrayal. Yet, it knows of no such things. Though it lost its purpose for being, it has not lost its way. Through purity, the beauty of the crane will find its way into the heart. And though mountains of gold may offer to buy its innocence, nothing can be exchanged for its genuine love.
One day, there was a man who just finished closing his textile shop. The gleam of the moon in the still and crisp night-sky struck the man like an arrow. He decided he would take the opportunity to enjoy the evening by walking home through a pass in the forest. On the way, he happened by a riverside, where he saw a beautiful white crane caught in a hunter's trap. His heart immediately went out to the creature and he walked over to free it. The crane feared him, but sensing his good heart, stood firm while he nursed the wound and released her from her confines. He then destroyed the contraption and watched as it spread its beautiful wings and disappeared into the moonlit sky. Seeing the clouds roll in, the man quickly returned to his humble abode where he was peacefully living alone.
Moments after he returned, a thunderstorm rolled in and rain began to pound the earth mercilessly. In the chaos, a gentle knock was heard coming from the entrance to his house. Without thinking, the man jumped up immediately to greet this late-night visitor. He swung open the wooden door and standing before him, a beautiful woman wearing a magnificent, white kimono unlike anything he had ever seen! It radiated a luminescent glow rivaling that of the moonlit path he took to his house. Seeking shelter from the rain, the stunning woman made a proposal: if he could provide her shelter from the rain and learn to love her in time, she would return his kindness by becoming his loving wife. The man, having made a place in his heart for this woman since he first laid eyes upon her, gratefully accepted. And on the evening of the next full moon, the two were happily wed.
For years, the couple lived together peacefully and happily. The man would go about his business and his wife would take care of their house. They continued living together as if it were a fairy-tale ending. But as times changed, so too did the man's business. He would return home tired and weak for seeing no clients for a full day. As the days turned to months, the slump seemed to never end.
The man's loving wife saw her husband's spirits defeated and offered to help. She would make the most beautiful handkerchief ever seen. It would shine like the beautiful, white kimono she wore the stormy night they first met. But, she would make it under one condition: no matter what he hears or how long he waits, he must promise never to enter the room or see her as she spins the handkerchief on the loom. If he fails to keep his promise, the woman would leave him forever. The man, a kind, trusting and loving man, agreed to this condition. The wife then gracefully asked the man to leave the bedroom and close the door behind him. Doing so, the man stood by the door waiting for his wife. He heard the loom begin to spin, and what followed were blood-curdling cries coming from his wife. He knocked on the door and called to her and had his hand on the doorknob, when she reminded him of his promise to her. Beaten by his loyalty to his word, the man lay down and did nothing. Nevertheless, he sat close by, waiting for his wife anxiously as he recited his promise and grit his teeth out of impatience and concern. When the loom stopped many hours later, the man jumped straight to his feet. When his wife opened the door, she held in her palms a beautiful white handkerchief that gave a ruby-red glimmer unlike anything he had ever seen! It was so spectacular that nothing could ever soil it! The woman looked to her husband and asked if it could be sold. The man nodded and accepted it in astonishment. For the rest of the evening, the man tended to his tired wife thinking quietly as he held her that she must have cried a lot. She somehow seemed thinner than he could remember.
News of the seemingly divine handkerchief traveled fast. Ultimately, it was sold to a royal duke for no less than a fortune. With his newfound wealth, the man strengthened his business and created a better life for his beloved. As was expected, the couple continued to live happily together in their lovely and peaceful abode. It seemed the worst was over.
Many moons later, the man's business began to falter once more. The man's wife, who loved him more dearly than life itself, asked after their dinner if there was any way she could help. She proclaimed that she would do anything for him if it meant they could continue cohabitating happily. The man smiled weakly at his wife. He knew what needed to be done but could not bear to hear her cry in agony again. It tore his heart to know that he could not provide for such a wonderful woman. He looked at her familiar and loving eyes, unable to utter a single word. She knew what he was trying to ask but could not say. Without waiting for a reply, she reminded him again of the same request made a long time ago; no matter what he hears or how long he waits, he must promise never to enter the room or see her as she spins the handkerchief on the loom. If he fails to keep his promise, the woman would leave him forever. Upon hearing her words, he nodded weakly. She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door. Her painful cries came about once more as the loom began to spin. The man waited even more anxiously than before and paced about in circles. He knocked on the door and asked if he could bring her anything to eat or if she needed a break. Without stopping, she elegantly commanded him not to enter. He told her if she needed anything that he would be nearby. And once more, he resumed walking in a circle outside the room. When he heard the loom stop many hours later, he ran to the door. His stunning wife looked tired but completely composed as she handed him the same white handkerchief with the same haunting, ruby-red glow. She asked if it was sufficient and could help them live together again happily. The man nodded and hugged his wife firmly in his arms. The man noticed that, despite having dinner before starting, she had become thinner. Even though she spent more time to create this second one, there was no way she could lose so much weight in such a period of time.
He returned to his shop the following morning and quickly announced the sale of the unique handkerchief. Like wildfire, word spread throughout the entire country. When the king heard of this enchanted cloth, he made haste to visit the man. To his majesty’s surprise, the news did the square fabric injustice in capturing the essence of its true beauty. It looked as though the weaver captured the ethereal moonlight and spun it into a cloth. Without hesitating, the king purchased the handkerchief for an even greater fortune than the duke. He also asked the man to make one more for his queen. As payment, the king would give the man wealth beyond his dreams and grant him and his wife the highest status in the royal court. Having heard these words, the man was speechless. He had found a way to provide for his loving wife and give her the life that she deserved. He agreed to this condition and quickly ran home. The full moon bore brightly on the dirt road and he made it home in no time at all.
Upon arriving, he rushed over to his wife and asked her to make one more handkerchief identical to the two she made before. However, she was hesitant-- even with the man's persuasive contention. She asked if the cloth she had made the night before was not enough for the two to survive. The man reassured her it was, but that they could do so much with just one more. He told her how happy it would make him if they could live as royalty and never have to worry about where their next meal would come from. After a few minutes of conversing, he changed his composed wife's decision. If that was what it would take to make him happy, she would make the handkerchief once more. Before starting, she repeated the same request again: no matter what he hears or how long he waits, he must promise never to enter the room or see her as she spins the handkerchief on the loom. If he fails to keep his promise, the woman would leave him forever. The man impatiently agreed and walked her to the bedroom door. He closed it behind her. Sounds of the loom spinning began, and the cries started once more.
While waiting, the man’s mind was frantic. How was she able to create the haunting fabric? Why did it take her longer the second time? What would happen if they created a fourth? Can he learn to make it too? A flurry of questions ran through his head as he paced nervously outside of the room. The man knocked on the door and called to his wife. She responded by commanding him not to enter. He stopped himself and began to pace around while thinking aimlessly once more. So many questions! A few hours later, he succumbed to his impetuous curiosity. Even though the loom was still spinning, he ran to the door and fiercely tore it open, gasping at the sight before him. He dropped to his knees with eyes wide-open in astonishment. Blood covered the entire loom and its gloomy surroundings. In place of the weaver's seat there sat a beautiful, albeit bloody, white crane crying while plucking its beautiful feathers to feed into the machine. The loom came to a stop, but the man was immobile due to his shock. With his jaw gaping open, he turned to the magnificent creature who finished weaving; he looked into its water-logged eyes and noticed a familiar yet loving look. Though the loom had stopped, the tears had not. The crane raised its head to the man but did not meet his eyes. It spoke after a moment's pause in a gracefully familiar voice saying, "You gave me your word but have broken your promise. That kind of betrayal… I cannot forgive. I must leave now, for I can never be with you again."
The words immediately shook the man from his paralysis as he called to the woman-crane and begged and pleaded for forgiveness, saying that he only opened the door because he could not bear to hear the cries any longer. The woman-crane moved past him and made its way to the heavy wooden door, leaving a trail of tears and blood. Not stopping or turning for even a second, the creature spread its majestic wings and flew into the moonlight, still sobbing and crying. The man chased after her, screaming fiercely while running on the ground below. But his efforts were in vain, as she did not slow down and he could not fly. Her silhouette slowly diminished in the night sky, first becoming a shadow, and then a dot, and then vanishing altogether.
The man waited there for several more hours but the woman-crane did not return. At the dawn of the day, he followed the blood-stained trail back home, dragging his feet with his head hung low. He returned to the room where the dream had ended and looked at the finished handkerchief, unable to say a single word. He removed it from the loom and held it in his palms just staring at it. Lost in his own thoughts, he tenderly began folding the fabric. He folded it, and folded it, and folded it some more. When he finished, he set it on top of the loom and left, closing the door behind him. Never again did this door open, and never again did the man return to this humble abode.
---Epilogue---
In the darkness, the folded crane emanated a luminescent glow; a small reminder of a memory more precious than gold. Sitting undisturbed atop the loom of fate, it is the bittersweet child forged from honesty, loyalty, and betrayal. Yet, it knows of no such things. Though it lost its purpose for being, it has not lost its way. Through purity, the beauty of the crane will find its way into the heart. And though mountains of gold may offer to buy its innocence, nothing can be exchanged for its genuine love.
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