This life, so far, has been about
discovery.
Everything has been a very big question
mark. I mean, big questions. Like why are we here? What does it all
mean? Why this set of circumstances and not a different set? Why me?
Why now?
Everything around me changes.
Sometimes there are cages full of
chickens strapped to the tops of cars.
Sometimes there are thick grey clouds
that bury landscapes in snow over night.
Sometimes there are frijoles fried on
hot slabs of metal and folded into wheat tortillas on street corners.
Sometimes there are conbinis open 24/7
staffed by sleeping high school students who aren't allowed to have
jobs.
Sometimes there are bicycle rickshaw
drivers resting on the seats of their rickshaws.
Sometimes there are cities so congested
it takes hours to walk a few blocks.
Sometimes there are faces that blend
into one another and become unrecognizable from strangers'.
Sometimes there are trees and bushes so
thick there is no path.
Sometimes there are smiles carved so
deeply in my memory, I am sure I will remember them in lives to come.
Sometimes there are sand hills and
cacti.
Sometimes there are rocks reaching up
to the sky.
Sometimes there are clouds reflected in
an expansive glass that shatters with rain and rolls with wind.
Sometimes there are stars.
Sometimes there are beams of colour
that dance ballet across the sky.
Sometimes there are families,
biological or otherwise.
Sometimes there is loneliness.
Sometimes I wonder if travelling
through space also means travelling through time. I wonder if any
different place on earth really is a different place or if it's all
just the same place at a different time. That doesn't mean forward
or backwards time, just different.
I wonder if every story is the same
story just from a different perspective.
And all the people are me, but with a
different set of circumstances.
I don't care about money or cars or
clothes or popular kids or being cool. Maybe that means I will never
have or be any of those things. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe it means I
will be a hypocrite one day. Maybe it means I already am one. I don't really care. It's important to
know both sides, I think. . .somewhere deep inside of me. You can't
really say anything about any side if you don't know both. And you
can't know anything. So really, you can't say anything either.
I think this life has been about
discovery. I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm a reincarnation of a very
old soul. I sometimes feel that I am. Why the heck would I be so
concerned about how I'm living otherwise? Why the heck do I feel so
old all the time? Why am I so bored and unimpressed by all of the
shiny things the world keeps trying to throw at me? There's no
explanation that I can come up with. I've always been bored of it.
It's not my parents and it's not my friends and it's not that I'm a
rebellious insolent punk rocker on purpose. That's just how I feel.
And I don't even like punk. . .
. . .anymore.
. . .anymore.
I'm much more interested in the
unmatched originality that exists in the bark of each tree. The
contours of the earth from the top of a mountain. How the sky ever
got so blue and how gigantic and tiny the world is at the same time.
I genuinely don't understand why other people don't appreciate each
moment and the fact that they are breathing air and thinking thoughts
and hearing sounds and tasting the inside of their mouths (or maybe
gum or maybe the lingering smoke of a cigarette or cup of coffee, or
maybe the saliva of their lover's mouth) faster than they can
comprehend and that this. Moment. Will. Never. Come. Back. Ever.
It's gone. And it keeps going. So
quickly you can't catch it.
AND YET, we live. We make plans. We do
things. We fall in love. We die. And so do bajillions of other
people, plants, animals, civilizations, planets, universes, etc.
How are we not in a constant state of
wonder?
How can anything else be more
important?
How can we think we have even an ounce
of control?
How can we not bow down in amazement. .
.at life?
If I feel that my hard work will pay
off, I'm not totally sure what kind of pay off I'm expecting.
The hard work that I've been doing has
not felt that hard and has not been any kind of work that most people
on this earth would acknowledge or respect.
I have not contributed that much to
society, at least not yet, or not in a measurable way. I have not
held a long term 'job'.
My work is much more about examining
myself and trying to be a better person. It has been about learning
more about the world and the people in it. It has been about
learning how to be compassionate and love people better. It has been
about serving the world. It has been about trying not to be selfish.
I'm not sure what the pay off for this
is. I'm not sure I believe in an afterlife or heaven even though
earlier I talked about reincarnation. I do think that reincarnation might be real but I'm not striving for good karma. I'm not trying to have a
better next life. . .at least not intentionally.
I'm striving to have a better this
life. I'm striving to learn more about myself so that I can
determine where I would be most happy, what I think, who I am, why
and how to best live in this world based on that. How I can best
change the world to help others be more happy too. But maybe that
just means I am a trouble maker.
Today I was thinking about something
that I think I want to do. . .and that is to make things more
levelled. To try to show the beauty in even the most ugly of things.
To try to show the hope in even the most despondent situations. To
try to show that seed in which the next moment will grow.
I think that needs to be an important
part to my expression and my art. To try to show something horrible
or a character at their worst point and how that worst point leads to
the birth of something new. I think that will be a theme over the
course of the next few decades, probably. At least hopefully. . .or I
feel that we're all in for big trouble. So probably good to start
with that.
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