Scene 16
I have a portion of my life and I own a portion of the world. Pure synchronicity and yet very worthy of scrutinizing. Sometimes I forget that and I stay in a static state casting all worries away. It never occurred to me that those moments are actually the happiest in my entire life and that the minute I started to look back or forth or around, pains start to afflict me. Now I learn.
People are used to bragging about their big ideas. Plan or no plan, take life fast or slow, mono or multi sexual, wounded or healed in a war. And before I have any power to give solid proof of any of the above points by simply living through them, life has elusively finished one quarter for me. And all I can tell right now is a shot here or a line there, some old fashioned singers, and a bunch of CDs that get tired of more and more rapidly. There’s a bucket of things I’d like to do but don’t have time. There’s a hard drive of errands I got to run but don’t have the passion. I bounce in between pleasing people and pleasing myself (and you bet most of the time succeeding neither). And when Robin Williams asked Matt Damon what do you want I got dumb as everybody else watching that scene and knowing clearly that I don’t have a damn answer to that either.
Before night shuts before the music stops, let me fall asleep. It’s easier this way, as if the whole world is still operating while I’m not around. My life was packed with plans one after another up to this point. And I told people and myself casually before that I need this period to cleanse the pragmatism and start seeing life as it is. Now it sounds like a mere public-posed non-hurting reply. Life like this pleases, but doesn’t excite anybody. Even the one-and-a-half-hours making food (for thought hopefully) stands as a perfect division between a studious student and a lazy home-slacker, it ceases to provide me with any visions of the future. Taking it pessimistically, three years in the States amounting to nothing but making little money and spending it fast, how can I continue to be so sure of my theory of seeing life with no planning? It’s almost the same level of awkwardness as my jazz piano playing, where I try very hard to improvise and slide through as many keys as possible in a flash. And yet, no improvisation works without a deeper understanding and structuring –or planning- underneath. This being said, I don’t expect it to mean that every chord has to be well calibrated-which will definitely kill the attraction immediately…
So tomorrow, same car same route same location. Same schedules, questions and answers, same fascinated face painted. I’m happy that it’s half way through (at least so I hope). And just this three years is characterized by a steep line. Yes I am moving somewhere and I hold on to this little momentum. The smell of watermelon sweeps away all worries and brings back nostalgia, for sentimental reasons. That’s why I always pick more than three types of fruits in grocery shopping. One taste is too narrow and too big to bear. Just like…silence is so much more for the ear to take than any noise.
People are used to bragging about their big ideas. Plan or no plan, take life fast or slow, mono or multi sexual, wounded or healed in a war. And before I have any power to give solid proof of any of the above points by simply living through them, life has elusively finished one quarter for me. And all I can tell right now is a shot here or a line there, some old fashioned singers, and a bunch of CDs that get tired of more and more rapidly. There’s a bucket of things I’d like to do but don’t have time. There’s a hard drive of errands I got to run but don’t have the passion. I bounce in between pleasing people and pleasing myself (and you bet most of the time succeeding neither). And when Robin Williams asked Matt Damon what do you want I got dumb as everybody else watching that scene and knowing clearly that I don’t have a damn answer to that either.
Before night shuts before the music stops, let me fall asleep. It’s easier this way, as if the whole world is still operating while I’m not around. My life was packed with plans one after another up to this point. And I told people and myself casually before that I need this period to cleanse the pragmatism and start seeing life as it is. Now it sounds like a mere public-posed non-hurting reply. Life like this pleases, but doesn’t excite anybody. Even the one-and-a-half-hours making food (for thought hopefully) stands as a perfect division between a studious student and a lazy home-slacker, it ceases to provide me with any visions of the future. Taking it pessimistically, three years in the States amounting to nothing but making little money and spending it fast, how can I continue to be so sure of my theory of seeing life with no planning? It’s almost the same level of awkwardness as my jazz piano playing, where I try very hard to improvise and slide through as many keys as possible in a flash. And yet, no improvisation works without a deeper understanding and structuring –or planning- underneath. This being said, I don’t expect it to mean that every chord has to be well calibrated-which will definitely kill the attraction immediately…
So tomorrow, same car same route same location. Same schedules, questions and answers, same fascinated face painted. I’m happy that it’s half way through (at least so I hope). And just this three years is characterized by a steep line. Yes I am moving somewhere and I hold on to this little momentum. The smell of watermelon sweeps away all worries and brings back nostalgia, for sentimental reasons. That’s why I always pick more than three types of fruits in grocery shopping. One taste is too narrow and too big to bear. Just like…silence is so much more for the ear to take than any noise.
posted by David | 1:52 AM
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