saml

I’m like walking Prozac

Today was good. Thanksgiving dinner with my grandmother at a fancy resturant uptown. I used the wrong knife to butter my bread. Oops. Tonight  was nice though. Walking through a soft breeze and dining in candle light with just the right amount of soothing conversation in the background. Privacy in company; it’s what my city is all about. I like living with my grandmother and spending so much time with her. She reminds me of how big life is and how sweet it can be. She carries terrible burdens and memories that I will probably and hopefully never feel even a tenth of. But she smiles and laughs and reflects on all of her happy moments. She seems to think the struggles of life are worth it; that the hard-earned rewards compensate for bullshit that gets in the way.  I'm sorry but there is no better expert on the matter, I trust her opinion completely. 

P.s. Thanks so much for the positive comments. I’m waiting for some mean ones to practice saying “*** you” to the ass-holes of the world. Anyway, thanks for admiring me, although you should probably admire yourself more for having a “dark episode” free from the self-destructive addictive ***. I think everyone goes through a period of uncertainty, especially as teenagers. For the first time we get a sense of how big life really is. How the *** are we supposed to feel good about ourselves? I mean really. Maybe it was ok when it was just our siblings or our parents criticizing us. But then all of a sudden it’s our peers, and the media, and then society as whole, and just the whole fucking grandness of the planet. How the *** are we supposed to feel relevant let alone adequate. And then we learn that to really achieve anything of value we have to be special… *** it… I’m just going to give up and watch tv, or IM, or do drugs, or suck my senses dry for the rest of my life. But I’m starting to believe that being special is a choice and that it does take a lot of will-power and that it isn’t easy… but some people try anyway, and I think that’s what makes them special.. Because- think about it. Life can’t be about the end result anyway. We’re all going to fucking drop dead at some point. If life is defined by the journey, then being special, and being happy, and being successful must also only exist in pursuit.

 

Comments

 

jordynt said:

Ha. My dad always says that the devil tries to keep us so busy we forget we're all going to die in the end anyways.

In ninth grade my social studies teacher had us watch DOCTOR ZHIVAGO (a movie I sincerely DO NOT recommend, as I hated it) and write an essay on it. I wrote my essay on how the movie ended - with the main character's death - and said it was true. No matter how extraordinary the journey is, we're all going to end up dead in the end.

But should that stop me from trying to be as happy as possible in this life? Should it stop me, or anyone else, from going after my dreams? From believing in love or miracles or God or anything else? No. Because, geez, we're not dead YET. And at the end of my life I don't want to think, "wow, I had a crappy life." I want to think, "dang, it's over."

Haha.

I like your idea that being hapy must also exist only in pursuit... I'll have to remember that, when I'm not-so-happy, that at least I'm PURSUING happiness, right?

November 22, 2007 9:01 PM
 

AmyG said:

You two are awesome—I love a good death thread...

Happy Thanksgiving, dear Sam (whose blog I already make a habit of going to every time I log on) and Grandma Ida! Peter and I did the restaurant Thanksgiving, too. So NYC, so delightful, luxurious.

November 23, 2007 3:15 PM