Personal Narrative: Social Conflict

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Personal Narrative: Social Conflict It would have been easy to resolve had either one of us wanted to end the squabble. Looking back, it is unbelievable to me that I acted the way I did. Again and again the situation runs through my mind, unveiling new ends to the argument. It was a perfect example of similar scenes playing themselves out all over the world - the most basic level of social conflict we have, the easiest to resolve. I'd challenge anyone to speak out if he or she has not argued over trivial matters with his or her loved ones and closest friends. These relationships cannot be broken, just like a coastline never really disappears, even though both are subject to terrible pressures. I had been studying for the past three hours and felt in need of some refreshment. I saw that my brother was passing the room and called out and asked if he could get me a drink. He shouted back, "Why should I? Get it yourself, you lazy so and so." This, for some reason aggravated me quite a lot as I was beginning to be frustrated by the difficulties of the study material. I did not say anything, but my anger smoldered. For the next two days, I did not speak or communicate with my brother, a feat in itself considering we lived in an apartment. I look back and am ashamed of the way I treated my brother. I also look back and remotely see myself as a desperate Green peace kid trying with one last throw of the dice to save his sanity, by throwing his anger towards them, those who obviously couldn't see the predicament - although that would be a purpose altogether too important to imagine. However, as we all know, this is not an isolated incident. Arguments and fights happen again and again. Just like Kurt Vonnegut's Billy Pi... ... middle of paper ... ...laugh -- all of us, Chinese, Brazilian and Australian together -- how the pitiful community was cultivating its crops in a way that provided everyone with food, and yet produced little waste. Analysts could spend weeks observing the strange customs of the people: meals with three families at one table; a bully accepting the reasoning of his victim's father; and look! No official looking buildings. I mean, how do they think that the populous can support and officiate itself without support from a central power! Where is the power in this land? How do they punish criminals? All these questions serve just one purpose: to finally show that main dish humanity never, ever comes without side dish social conflict, obviously coming at some extra cost, whether that be fighting or repressed, smoldering hate. But who's paying for this meal? Who cares? I'm not, right?

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