April 01, 2004

Moments of Wastefulness

But as I'm growing older, I'm bored
I remember when misery thrilled me much more
- Ben Folds Five

This is life
What a fucked up thing we do
What a nightmare come true
Or a playground if we choose
And I choose
- The Offspring

What Time is it There? was showing at the Chinese Film Festival on campus tonight. Focusing on the mundane and absurd, it's an amazing film about grief, loneliness, and isolation. And, of course, I couldn't go see it.

It rained today-- wonderful, complete, long-lasting rain; it's been such a long time since it last rained like that. It's been a while, too, since I last sat on the roof of my car. And so, tonight, I sat on the roof of my car, in the pouring rain, soaking in the beady drops of refreshing contentment.

It's those little moments, those stolen moments that are so very blissful, so very beautiful, so very true. Everything does look perfect from far away.

Sometimes I wonder, am I wasting my time by stepping back, and losing myself in the moment? Or are those the only moments that I'm really living?

And it's strange, the dichotomy of those moments. I sit in the rain, and I know I feel happy. The feeling of the rain drops, the sound of the puddles growing, the smell of renewal-- it's all so beautiful and wonderful and exuberant. But at the same time, there are so many other things going on-- or not going on, as the case may be. My room is in a state of partial rearrangement, which is to say that it's horribly cluttered and disorganized, my homework isn't being done and I basically have five weeks now to write 75 pages on something or another, and it's possible I'm really just addicted to the rain, using it to remember things I want desperately to remember and forget things I desperately want to forget. So where does all this leave me? Am I wasting my time living those 'moments of beauty,' as it were?

Remember, life is just a memory
Remember, close your eyes and you can see
Remember, think of all that life can be
- Harry Nilsson

Next week is my birthday, and it's partially to blame, I think. I don't feel old, per se, but I definitely feel older, as it "another year has gone by." And what do I have to show for it? Moments of beauty? Moments of bliss? Moments of anguish? Moments of surrender? Is this all I have, all that's different? Fleeting moments, remembered experiences, emotions plucked out of time? Is that good? Bad? Normal? Normative?

In the end, does it matter that I sat on my car for a while, and was happy and content and felt okay?

Yeah, this is one of those existential queries. And it always ends up like this. Not so much with the Kool Aid and smurfs and what-not, but with the uncertainty and lack of trust in what I believe, in what I want, in what I know. Sometimes, I think too much.

Like a sound we notice
Until it stopped and left us there
- The Weakerthans

It's so stupid how this whole thing started, how I started slipping down this icy hill. I know better. I am better. This should be old school shit by now. Why should what other people do, or not do, bother me so much? Why should I always feel guilty about doing something wrong, when I honestly can't think of anything that I did wrong?

I think that's the hardest thing for me: to accept that some things aren't my fault. Even now, even while I'm writing this, I feel the need to write, "maybe I'm too dense to know what I did," or "I should have said this, or that, or something else entirely, instead," or "maybe this is my fault, after all." We're so mean to each other; we're so hurtful to each other; we're so disingenuous and dishonest with each other.

We should know better; we're capable of so much more. And maybe that's what the little moments of beauty teach us-- maybe that's why they're important, after all.

Posted by Sean at April 1, 2004 02:36 AM

Comments

Posted by: Liene at April 1, 2004 04:57 PM

Posted by: Sean at April 1, 2004 05:41 PM

Posted by: Sean at April 1, 2004 09:41 PM

Posted by: Liene at April 2, 2004 11:42 AM