I read this and it made me wonder. I understand where this is coming from. Martin Luther King Jr. was a pretty peaceful guy, and this statement makes sense to me. And coming in from an outside view, I can see myself agreeing with it.
But then I put myself in the shoes of someone who lost a friend or family member in 9/11, and I can’t even imagine the satisfaction they must have felt after the death of the person who was responsible for the death of their loved one.
I guess I’m not really sure where I stand with it, but I decided to repost it.
So, here you go:

‎”I will mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” - Martin Luther King Jr.

I know it’s a thing of the past now, and I should really get over it, but I really miss high school choir. I feel like right now in college, I don’t really have a set place of where or who I am. In high school, I was Emily Voirin, the choir kid. It was like a family. It still is like a family. I went back tonight for A Cappella’s performance of Carmina Burana, and I felt like I never left. It’s always great to see old friends and catch up. I just feel like I wish I had that same connection with something in college that I had with choir in high school. When I think back of my favorite high school memories, or even life memories, a majority of them go to times in choir. I don’t think I’ll be able to find the friends I made there anywhere else. I think it was probably because of the music we were able to create and share with each other. We all shared the same passion for what we were doing.
I mean, what’s better than singing MLK in a dark room, listening to the perfect harmonies resonating throughout the room? Or singing Salvation Is Created at the Christmas concert while snow falls? Or feeling the excitement in the audience as they see the A Cappella choir lined up in the back of the auditorium lighting their candles, getting ready to walk down the aisles and make the Christmas tree singing Westminster Carol? It gives me goosebumps to think about it. I know I miss it and wish I could go back, or sing with the same people just one more time. But I think I’ll just have to be happy with the memories. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. 

P.S.
Listen to the song “MLK” by the King’s Singers. Don’t listen to any other version but theirs.
It’s perfect. 

I think more often than not, people find it hard to be content with what they have.
Last week, St. Patrick’s day came along, and I found myself thinking, “Man, I wish I was Irish.” But any other day, I don’t really care, I’m proud of the heritage I have. Or I go to London and I think, “I wish I had an English accent” or Georgia and think “I wish I had a southern accent.” “I wish I was from this place or that place.” Why can’t I be content with the fact that I am from Aurora, Illinois? I suppose maybe sometimes I am. I know I can’t change it, so I might as well just deal with it. If I was actually from, say, London, England, would I be thinking to myself, “Man, I wish I had an American accent.” Who knows?
I guess what I’m getting at here is that I have absolutely no idea what I want to happen in my life. I don’t know if I’ll end up settling with my life a certain way and actually be content with it, or will I be searching my whole life for what will actually make me happy? One minute I feel like I have it figured out, the next I feel completely lost. Part of me is excited to “grow up,” finish college, and be out on my own, but the other part of me is terrified of that. I know that I don’t want to live in Aurora, Illinois anymore, but at the same time, I know I’d have a horrible time leaving my family. I can’t imagine if I have kids someday, not having my mom there to help me take care of them, or not being able to drive past a place and think to myself “That’s the house I grew up in.” or “There’s the park where I learned how to ride a bike.” I know those are just memories, things of the past, but I have always had a really hard time letting go of those sorts of things. Besides the fact that I can’t even decide where I’d want to go and live. Well, I’m actually pretty sure I’d love to live in Georgia, preferably somewhere by the beach. But then again, what about somewhere out east like Connecticut? I can definitely picture myself somewhere like that. Or maybe Colorado, so I can look outside and see mountains. It all seems so great until you get there, and then you think, “What if I had done something else…?”
See what I mean? I can’t even decide the sort of thing like where I want to live. So it freaks me out that I’ll have to make even bigger decisions than that pretty darn soon.
I know I want to travel. I want to go to other countries, other continents, experience things I’ll never forget. I need something to make a difference in my life.
I just hope that happens sooner than later. I think I’m going a little stir-crazy here in the good old Midwest.

I’ve decided that my first purchases when I have my own home will be a grand piano and a huge hairy dog.
Don’t ask me how I’ll be able to afford them when I’ll have student loans up the wazoo, but I’ll make it happen.

I wish I didn’t have the short temper that I do. I’ll be driving along the road, and some car will come barreling up behind me, so close I can’t even see their front headlights. It’s true, being tailgated is one of my biggest pet peeves, but my usual go-to move is to give them the finger and slow down to about 20 mph below the speed limit just to make them mad, and then probably go on some rant about how they’re an idiot who needs to get their driver’s license, rather than just continuing going the speed limit and not letting it bother me.
I let things like that get to me to easily. I get frustrated too easily. I wish there was a way that I could make that not happen.