"And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal in their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they're nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we'd be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing."-Haruki Murakami/ Sputnik Sweetheart
and it's nuts to say but when you come to the realization that you've put things off to the last minute, you end up pacing back and forth and in the end... you're entirely still and don't know what direction to do. So, I decided to finish one of my classes early... which means, that I have a test in two of my classes this week alone that are mandatory... and another four along with an exam. It's ok, though. I have pretty much killed off a few chapters... knocked out last week's test a week in advance and got... a 90, which is crap but I'll allow myself kudos for getting it over with and my last two tests that I stressed about, I aced with flying colors.
I'm studying Buddhism right now... and I think it rings true for a lot of things, no matter what you believe in. It's a good foundation for thought. "No matter what your circumstances, you will end up losing everything you love, you will end up aging, you will end up ill. And the problem is that we need to figure out a way how to make that all be all right." I think my struggle in life is the search for that middle ground and constant state of losing and then picking myself back up. It won't always be that way... but I think that's what being in your mid twenties is all about. I am actually enjoying the pressure of figuring it out. I'm happy with my solitude, I think it's productive. Murakami asks, "Was the Earth put here to nourish human loneliness?" But he also says, "Pain is inevitable... suffering is optional." This is very true... the same concept with boredom, boredom is always and will always be a choice.
I see all my friends, and they come to me... hurt and looking for guidance and insight. They're all older and they're all far away and I can't do anything but tell them that it'll all work out and once we scrape past the mediocre and love the fact that we're here existing and doing the best we can... it'll be a whole other world. So many people around me are sad, and I wish I could help them all... but I'm entirely too jaded and self absorbed in my own things to even try, because there's nothing I can do. Why is human suffering so poetic? Why can't happiness be equally poetic?
I'd like to stop time and read books... and lose myself in the surreal... but in the end, I'm always sucked out of the blackhole of nothingness and there are big red signs telling me... "BREE... FIGURE... THIS... OUT. YOU DON'T HAVE TIME" It gets quiet... and I make these lists. For weeks, I've been handwriting notes in my planner. One of the constant things that are always there are little black letters that say, "Feel Good", and I'm just now starting to be able to check it off.
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