Jul 18, 2005

Truly disjointed.

My father takes care to remind me that I should make the most of enjoying this summer, since it could be my last summer spent as a "kid." He means, of course, that after I graduate college, I will be thrust into the work force, and work doesn't typically provide long, carefree summers. By the end of the fall semester, I'll have to have a job or career lined up for myself. Though I know the entire situation is going to be challenging; searching for a job while taking 18 rigourous credit hours; I have the confidence in myself that I can manage it. I always seem to be able to make things work out for myself when I put my heart to it, and I am sure this will be no exception. As for now, I plan on enjoying the rest of my summer, and Rayg knows there is still plenty of it left. A certainty is that I will be staying in Hawaii for awhile. In Hilo, I live about the perfect distance away from my parents. ...Too far for either of them to find the commute worthwhile in almost all situations, and close enough for me to conveniently visit on a weekend just to escape the grind. Living such a distance away seems to be ideal for my relationships with them. I can still visit them without going too far out of my way, but I don't see too much of them to the point where we get on each other's nerves.

So frequently, I hear someone mention how "dreamlike" or "surreal" an experience or event was for them. I have done so countless times, and have realised that any experience far from the ordinary or expected could be considered "dreamlike." We seem to develop this mental construction of "reality"- the procedural, routine, systematic, mundane, predictable day-to-day way of life that we foresee for ourselves everyday, and all that defies this construct projects a sharp contrast which can easily be perceived as surreal; imagery from a dream. And then I reason to myself that life is really nothing more than a dream with three major dimensions--that which is jointly perceived amongst different individuals- what is known as reality; that which is imagined; and, of course, the sub-conscious that produces involuntarily hallucinations. At this point, my entire North America trip, for the most part, feels like something I dreamt up one night. I recall several occasions while I was there that time seemed to creep along very, very slowly, and I just wanted one day to pass so I could get to the next. Now that it is over, I feel like it all went by in a flash. How that works is a phenomenon, something I cannot even rationalise. I imagine the entirety of one's life works the very same way. Childhood seemed to last a long, long time while I was enduring it, filled to the brim with innumerable bland, unmemorable moments. Now that it is confined strictly to my memory, childhood is just one extended highlight reel. I most easily recall the very best and the very worst, but the in-between is all but gone forever; not worth putting on a slide, and 99.99999% qualifies as "in-between." These deductions only further prove that life is really just a series of moments, those most treasured, those most lamented. Who knows when the next big memorable moment will take place? In the present, I could say life is going by awfully slowly, being only 23 years of age and sometimes feeling twice that old in terms of mentality. I am certain that when I turn 70, though, most of my past life will be a gigantic fuzzy blur and I will finally be able to say, "well, that went by awfully fast."

Searching the world for answers to explain our existence is a waste of time, when no such answers are to be found. Our existence simply is. It alone carries no bias and pushes no persuasion. It's up to us to devise the answers ourselves, for ourselves. Dream Theater said it best in their masterpiece of a song, "Take the Time":

Life is no more assuring than love
(It's time to take the time)
There are no answers from voices above
(It's time to take the time)
You're fighting the weight of the world
And no one can save you this time
Close your eyes
You can find all that you need in your mind

Life is what you make it, it's as simple as that. The real question is, how adventurous are you willing to be? How much are you willing to open your mind to what the world has to offer? The beauty of it is that there is something out there for everyone. The beauty of it is that beauty itself is not an exhaustible resource. It is my personal opinion that too many people look up, down, and around for all the answers, when they should really be looking in.

*Sigh* The moon is gorgeous, and so is the breeze... tomorrow night or perhaps the next, I may explore the ruins above Trey's horse ranch up the hill in the silvery moonlight. Maybe I will prance around barepawed on the old, overgrown tennis court. There is always room for a liberating moondance, especially in that wide open sea of tall, lush grass beyond it all. I love the supernatural presence I sense amongst that strange old temple... it always make me feel very welcome, even if the raucous mutts across the street from the grassy road in do not.

There is so much to look forward to, and I feel like shedding tears of joy, but I believe I will save them for the wander so that they may fall upon the natural earth.


Anonymous said...
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Lithium said...

I've been meaning to, for some time, post a comment about several of the entries I have read thus far. Unfortunately, I had become so busy that I failed to find the time to do so. Here I am though, finally finding the chance to write a reply.

Due to being rather tired though, my comment must suffer not having any profound words shared. I do agree with what you've said in this entry though, and your description of that place you intended to visit was truly beautiful. Sometimes I envy you for being able to go to such a place, and experience such a moment. Care to take me with you, next time? :-*