Man, under-destruction?

Growing up as a comic book junkie (or as much of a junkie as a boy living in Easter Africa could be), I habitually fantasized about the idea of heroes. Not simply individuals of unprecedented abilities who would lead humanity into an age of enlightenment and peace, but individuals who would actually inspire us to aspire for greatness. Having reread what I just wrote, I admit to how borderline delusional it sounds. Still though, we all need heroes.  These past several years have been murder on my heroes. Within this span of time I’ve discovered that individuals that I looked up and revered were in fact quite flawed and frankly criminally liable for their actions. While I won’t go into any details (primarily because it would be a moot point but also because given the celebrity status of these individuals, you probably already know them). While these damning revelations have done nothing but to piss me off to no end, I can’t help but remember a random quote....”teachers of morality, tho

 A cup of coffee. That’s what my post graduate education boils down to. Vague and random though it may sound, it’s as apt a description as any. Of course, to fully grasp this, I would have to have to start from the beginning and from the beginning I shall.  This journey began 2 years ago, as a freshman at a prestigious Scandinavian university, where I sought to better mysef through education. In order to size up the enormity of this, we would have to go back even further. Said freshman had arrived upon the footsteps of said Scandinavian land with nothing but the clothes on his back. From these humble beginnings, he rose and grew, gaining knowledge along the way, seeking the means by which he could better himself for the eventual future where he would be at the mercy of the ever so cruel world.  I’ll forgo the aforementioned ambiguity. This is me, this my story. For years, I sought to continue my education, but for reasons that I shan’t get into, it wasn’t a viable option until just