Learning to Code (For the nth time)

I have wanted to shift my career into coding/development for many reasons. Non-related, I read that my posts should be longer. At least one thousand words. Once upon a midnight dreary, when I was still reading King Leary (never read it to be honest), I used to pen five hundred a day. So a thousand a post, feels like an accomplishment. One; the selfish reason. I like it. I've looked into various parts of the IT industry, and none have interested me quite like it. Two; the altruistic reason. I enjoy making things for people. That's why I'm in culinary school. That's why I'm starting a Comp Sci degree. Which, that shouldn't be stressful... Right? Technically, I should be fine. Back in the college days of my youth I regularly took 24 credit hours a semester. However... I was young. I didn't have any other obligations. And I wouldn't consider my educational foundation a success. So double-majoring in two disparate fields. Culinary and Code. Hah, I should rename the blog. Culinary Bytes. I'll reference them with that tag. But only to myself. "On Conversation" has it's place, and is what I intend this to be. A loose essayist compilation of thoughts. Not that I'm renowned by any rate. But one can dream. I lost track. Two; I love giving back. I love creating. I love gifting. Not that gifts are my love language. Gifts do nothing for me. I mean, it depends on who is giving it. But gifts don't tug at the strings. I remember receiving things when I was younger and being happy. But it was always fleeting. I found myself wanting. Growing up poor, it's not like there was a way to give in to that feeling. I wanted more. There was nothing more to gain. I interject with a brief interlude. I brush my daughter's teeth every night. I scrub well. I scrub the tops. I scrub the sides. I scrub the tongue. I make sure every drop of bacteria is gone. She had some troubles with cavities. Some being an understatement. The thought of having to put her under terrified me. Not that it showed. I need to work on that too. I should at least be aware of telling others how I feel. Even if demonstrating with expressions. Demonstrating with vocal tremors. Or anything at all. Is beyond my reach. I interject to say, it's worth getting a second opinion. We shopped dentists, because I knew from various medical fields... they're often the worst. It's a business model that begets surgery. Though, that could be American idealism at it's finest. So we shopped. Number 2. I love giving. I hate when things are taken away. Not that it's related. I love to give, but when people take without asking. I cringe. I want to give back to my kids when they're older. I want to teach them how to code and cook. I want to teach them how to be aggressive and negotiate the gap. The gap between what they need, and what the business needs. I want them to know not only their position in the world, but how to negotiate it. I fight for my position in this world not for myself. The truth? I'd love to slow down. To take a breath. To read. To Write. So many things I take for granted in favor of speed. Reason three. Video games did a lot for my foundation as a person. In the sense of I chose who to be within their framework. I understand that someone else could have chosen different. Someone else could have seen the same lessons. And chose a different path. I remember some of my foundational games of story. One put me, a child of seven in charge of serious topics;

• Slavery

• Prostitution

• Murder

• Salvation

• Redemption

• Heroism

I saw how I could profiteer from evil. I saw how "good" could benefit me. I noticed a trend. One put me, a child of eight in charge of serious topics;

• Destiny

• Doom

• Betrayal

• Romance

And again, I saw how I could profiteer from evil. I noticed again, how much sweeter the rewards of "good" were. A trend became a pattern. One put me, a child of nine in charge of serious topics;

• Regret

• Torment

• Eternity

It took. I didn't see the "gains" of evil anymore. They weren't enough. I knew then as I do now, stories written in vulnerability have truth to them. I saw where the ends of evil were. No matter how much power. No matter how much wealth. The "reward" was hollow. Everything against the weight of infinity is nothing. For 1/1 compared to the infinite is as meaningless as a pebble in the ocean. For those wondering, if I am to be considered broken, this isn't what broke me. No measure of story will break, experience is what shatters. So I chose "good". I played more games. I chose good. I read more books. I chose good. Repetition makes the habit. Habit makes the person. From habit, I became "good". Three. A simple balanced structure. Sufficient. Self sustaining. I knew I wasn't enough. I learned that "good" in isolation was akin to evil. A vacuum of good benefits no one, not even the self. So reason three, I wanted to tell the story back to others. I wanted to make the story that would resonate with me as it did then, from who I am now. An unnamed reason that one could call four, but I'm not going to. I enjoy it. Coding, cooking, and composing all share a commonality (I wish it was the letter c, but writing C does not begin. Composing works, but it's not the same). They all involve creating and giving. When I make a dish, it's no longer mine. I give it freely into the palates of others. I hope that what I experience can become what they experience, in small measures. When I write, I hope that what I hear becomes what you hear. Same when I code, I hope that a simple story I someday tell, will be one that sits with you. A story that sits with you when you struggle to make the right choice. A story that sits with you when you have a rough night. A story that sits with you in the quiet moments, and gives you a spark of joy. For when light is absent from the sky, we only have each other to light the way.