Years ago, my father often narrated to me the story of The Hero of Haarlem.

This is the story: He looked up and saw a small hole in the dike through which a tiny stream was flowing. Any child in Holland will shudder at the thought of a leak in the dike! . . . That little hole, if the water were allowed to trickle through, would soon be a large one, and a terrible inundation would be the result. Quick as a flash he saw his duty . . . His chubby little finger was thrust in almost before he knew it. The flowing was stopped! "Ah!" he thought, with a chuckle of boyish delight, "the angry waters must stay back now! Haarlem shall not be drowned while I am here!"
Haarlem was not drowned. The little boy stayed at the dike all night, too cold even to whistle and attract the attention of passersby, until he was found in the morning and the hole was plugged. Thus, in Hans Brinker or, The Silver Skates (1865), Mary Mapes Dodge told the legend of the sluicer's son who became "The Hero of Haarlem.

Can we be such heroes in our lives? Life, its fundamentally, just a wall and an ocean. Brick upon brick we lay, striving towards our panoramic vision of unblemished, monumental beauty, and yet for all the dedication and industry we invest, the vision we seek always remains an unfulfilled wish. The broiling torrent of water trashing at our dams will one day rip one..two..three…no ten chinks in the dam, and even as we frantically jam our fingers into the holes and hold on for all our life, irrevocably, inexorably, inevitably two more holes appear. One more burden for either of our hands, such a small number yet as deadly as a black hole singularity. The tiny peephole through which an irregular drip drop of water squeezes through eventually enlarges into a model approximating an incontinent small boy’s prick through which a steady parabolic stream sprays, right straight into our mouths, mixing its putrefying brine-y taste with the bitter bile of defeat accumulating in our throats. And then the entire wall rips apart, just like the neurons in an Alzheimer’s patient, each individual element crashing to the earth as its connections to its neighbours are cut off. The water slamming into our faces mixes with the salty tears gushing from our eyes, till the pain of personal grief and the physical pain of the ordeal are indistinguishable from each other.

Something that you had trusted to be as immutable as mum's love for us, something that you had stubbornly built up and worked on in the hope that it would one day be unveiled in its glorious beauty, something that you had faith in and depended on. When such a priceless thing fails, the chill that claws at your soul, the shock that freezes your spine, the crushing hammer that flattens your hope, the moment of emptiness and clarity of defeat that fills your brain and the unbendable law of gravity that drags your heart down into a bottomless abyss, could make you lose your faith in beautiful endings.

What are the things that one can lose faith in and still remain a happy person?

If it were himself, he would just lead a miserable, insecure life. No drive = lost potential = no success in life

If it were his friends, he could just find another friend.

If it were his best friend, he would be lost for a while, and take quite some time to find another friend just like the previous.

If it were his other half, he would be heartbroken, and depending on how dependent he was, and the strength of his love, he might or might not get over it soon.

If it were his family, he would be a lonely, fragile person for whom other relationships will have to replace the void in his life and therefore would be a difficult person.

If it were his religion, he would be thrown off course.

Ok I was just talking crap.

Unless the door is fully closed, and the vision of “fill in the blanks” is cut off from a person, he will never be able to turn his eyes away from “fill in the blanks”.

That’s why they invented jails isn’t it? So that prisoners can claw at the bars and snarl at the world passing by, moving on without them, right in front of their eyes. Wishing for something impossible will just hurt you, might as well not know about that impossible something. Stagnating stalemates are just so frustrating.

Bleah. Yet they are rare in chess, just as in life. Win or lose is usually the outcome.

What the hell am i saying?

Thanks readers, for wasting your time :)