I wrote what follows during my last couple of months of grad school. It's.. well, it's amazing to be reminded by myself what I want for myself. Thanks, self.
What it is.
So I am in grad school, right? And one of those questions that keeps getting thrown around stems from the one that asks, "What does it mean?" only it is more like, "What does it not mean?" Because the one thing that I have learned is that there isn’t anything that is absolute This is the idea which ultimately reaches the point where meaning does not exist. It’s kind of the same as Plato’s, "I know that I know nothing" only it is on a bigger scale, the scale being everything that ever was only it never really was to begin with. Ya dig? It’s cool if you don’t.
Deep down, I think I am starting to realize that this is some archaic creation dreamed up by scholars who saw that there might be an end to knowledge and dreamed up this scheme as a way of creating job security. I can actually appreciate those hoodwinkers if that is the case. I swear, this is going somewhere.
See, I watched this movie tonight... Wait, don’t judge me yet, there will be a brief judgement session near the end, just stay with me for now and curb your desire to roll your eyes. If you have already rolled your eyes, fine, thanks for continuing to read...
So this movie was one that has been on my "I need to watch" list for about as long as any of them, but I decided to get it and put off work for 2 and a half hours longer. Here is the question I have.. I will reveal the movie later, just staving off that imminent judgement...
If we don’t have someone to tell our story, if we don’t tell our story, then were we ever really here at all? If we don’t share, if we don’t feel in the presence of others, then who are we when we aren’t?
Here is most of where those questions led me...
So I blog infrequently and at some point when I don’t have a pulse, these rambles will be one of the few remaining shadows of the time when I was around. I know, it sounds awful, but it’s just something for me to think as a member of the living. But here it is... What I put here is still not my story. There are a thousand things that I think and feel that at least nibble at what makes up my center. That is, provided, I even have a center. I never say these stories, I never write them, I never feel them in the presence of others. Is there something inside me that because it lacks the expression actually impedes me from ever existing in the world at all? Am I here in this moment or am I only what you think I am, thought I was, want me to be? I swear, I got all of this from a movie.
So I am in grad school, and reality is something that is built and rebuilt and often just an imagination run amuck. So I watch this movie and I realize that I am a memory of myself to anyone who has ever known me or ever will know me. What do I do with that?
I do this.
For every moment that I am alive, from this point until the next, I want to let others know that we are all in this together. Life, with its many layers both real and unreal, are only what they are for us and not me alone. Richness and color are one-sided and hollow without other eyes to give to me what we give to it, and I only want to know what you know so that I can know it, too.
I will not live in a valley. I will not live on a mountain. I will live in the place where your shadow touches mine and the sun touches us all. Seriously. That’s really what it is. Whatever it is.
The movie was Into the Wild. Commence with the judgement, you have been patient long enough.
greetings, human!
9 years ago
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