“Ok, ladies and gents” is what I usually start my blog posts with, but it is an injustice to the ambiance of this specific post and my current mood.
Fall of 2013, I find myself sitting down alone for hours to no end. It is the result of a job I picked up, which requires little to no complex operations, certain life choices I’ve made, and also circumstances. As a consequence, this semester, I have had the opportunity to think and reflect significantly in an extremely short amount of time. What I’ve been musing on about is choice, in particular, my choices. We make choices every day, every hour, every minute, every fucking second. Choice is just as inextricable as our innate instinct to gasp for air whilst under water. I asked myself, have I been making the wrong choices trying to breathe whilst under water rather than above? Drowning myself with mistakes and permitting whatever that is in my immediate environment to be absorbed. To influence. To become me. I am in my third year of graduate school, and thus it is obvious I have gasped for air sometimes at the correct moment.
After an epic night of unforgettable debauchery in February, I would say I reached a point where I was sick of falling to my whims. I woke up the next morning staring at the mirror. Eyes red. Eye lids lazy. Face expressing exhaustion. Mouth dry. Sock missing, …the other half torn. Wallet weighed 0.06 oz lighter. It was then I knew I had succumbed to my whims, my wrong choices. I decided to gradually change my ways, but let me re-emphasize “gradually” because I’m not perfect. These last eight months, I was so sure that I’ve been properly teaching myself how to breathe correctly. If I am so sure, then what is making me doubt otherwise? What inspired this post?
A friend sent a text message to me this evening containing a sensitive question. She spontaneously asked the right question. he understands me more than anyone so its fitting that it was her. I didn’t respond because I did not want to admit the truth to myself, the answer to how I’ve been feeling lately. Consequently, if that truth is my reality then has these past eight months been for naught? Shortly after, I decided to drop my academic work and watch a movie to take my mind off things. I literally just finished watching the movie One Day with Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess. I picked the movie randomly, and it coincidentally ties in with “choice”, her question, and my reality, and from the movie I extracted this. We make choices, good and bad. These choices may lead us to a place, a time, to a range of feelings we wished we never been, seen, or felt, respectively. At that moment, although it may feel like it, it is not the end nor can we objectively conclude that the series of good and bad choices, hopefully mostly the former, was for naught. It is when we begin to wither and die, should we be allowed that dangerous privilege of hindsight to criticize our lives. I will find out if the choices I’ve made these past eight months, and the months and years to follow, were to no avail some day. One Day. Another day in the life of me, gasping for air.
P.S. I won’t share the actual question. However, here is a quick rhyme that occurred as an after thought of the question:
If I Can Embed My Mind Into Your Womb, Would You Let Me Think Deeply?
Do not Succumb To Her Woos, if Desired to Speak Quite Frankly.