Noisy, messy, immature, inconsiderate room mates. Let me simply confess, I shall never, ever miss them. I've only ever had one, yet still, I shall never, ever miss her. Ne'er, e'er, e'er. Alas, I am still caught between wether I shall be abandoning this place, moving far from her irritating dramas. Let it be known that I would greatly love to never have to live with her again. But. Let it also be known that I love my other room mate and would be sad to no longer be seeing her. I once thought that perhaps I would be staying here for a good amount of time...Now I don't know if I would want to. I just don't like living with people who aren't clean and considerate and think a pit bull to be a small dog, then bringing home a german shepherd/black lab mix without warning or permission. The contract specifies no pets allowed. Not that the fact that the contract that was signed had specific guidelines ever prevented her from bringing home alcohol. That'd be far too weird. I don't intend to be silently trodden on. I'm tolerant, not a push over.
Friday, June 1, 2012
"The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means and hold it fixed so that a hundred years later, when a stranger looks at it, it moves again, since it is life." William Faulkner
You know that moment?
That wonderful, vivid, beautiful moment where you feel the blossoming passion of something you have always loved so much being rekindled right at the core of your very being? The incredible moment that these words will never be adequate to describe, because part of the beauty of that passion is in the fact that its very purpose is to express what words are not enough for. From the second you feel it gently begin to stir within you, wrapping right around where your sternum meets your ribcage and then slowly spreading and growing and unfurling. Coiling it's way down your spine, up your neck and into every bone in your body. Everywhere. Until you feel so alive with the new fervor that it has brought to your existence that you can't bear to surpress the impulse it brings with it.
Then you take action.
And sometimes it can take a while for you to let yourself get back into appreciating the complete sense of happiness that you feel in these moments. Because you're a responsible adult, and as much as you absolutely love this, there are always things that are viewed by society as being much more of a priority. And you certainly wouldn't want to let society down now, would you?
But what about yourself?
Is it truly possible at all to make everyone happy without making yourself miserable? How do you give up something so dear to you for the sake of practicality? One might say that practicality is necessary in order to hold on to other things that one finds dear. But is that only due to the mindset of previous generations? Has tradition diminished the potential of being happy and content in all things? Or are some of us doomed to never knowing what it is like to wake up in the morning with the purpose to go and make a living doing something we love so much and then also come home to the people we love as well, knowing with a firm peace of mind that we are taking good care of them? Did some simply give up too soon?
Whatever the reason, and whatever the cause, I intend to strive for the potential to qualify for both. Despite obstacles and obstinacy, I shall try.
Work is all that can get me there, for as dear Billy Shakespeare has said...
"Nothing can come from nothing."