the girl winked with both eyes

9th November 2010

Text with 3 notes

LIVING LIKE WE DON’T

We all love the things we moan about. Lack of sleep and money, lack of lines left to write in our agendas, too many people to hang out with, too many cigarettes and coffee every day, all-nighters in the library, essay overloads, social pressure, over-estimating expectations… They make us feel alive.

At least, I do feel alive when I slowly take little pieces of me until I reach the breaking point and get all emotional over how I can’t do it anymore. Lay in bed for a few days feeling sorry for myself about how I’m trying so hard not to just go with the stream of people that follow up on social expectations and it never seems to be enough. Restrengthen, get up and try again and start all over.

I’ve thrown myself in a pretty big experiment. Living like I maybe should. Eat, sleep, study, study, study, read, not so much pray (one should always save the best for later), study, pick a few projects that truly matter and devote, pick a few people that really matter and be there. Do as I say.

I miss going into the occasional mental modus. I mean, he who’s truly a sane person throw the first stone right at me, but are we all not actually crazy people? ….Get up when our alarm wakes us. Set our alarms on time in the first place. Take a shower. Shave when we don’t feel like it. Have a fiber fest breakfast. Join the massive stream of people going to work because the guy who monthly feeds our bank account told us so. Do as the signs in the subways say. Spend 8 hours with collegues instead of the people we really love and want to be with. Go home, eat our meals, be tired, sleep. Wait for the holidays to come. Celebrate christmas when the calendar says it’s time…

We live like we don’t. Like the best part is yet to come and we’re hovering in some sort of waiting room until someone calls our name so we can get up from our uncomfortable chair with unequal legs, to see what’s behind the door we’ve been staring at for a time that felt like forever. I believe in that door and I’ve got pretty high expectations of the world behind. But that does’t mean I should act waiting in the waiting room. I mean, what if it’s not a waiting room? What if it’s a challenge for each one of us balancing on our chair with unequal legs. What if the legs are unequal to make us get up and look for good and meaningful things to do? And what if the things that we do in the room with unequal chairs help deciding what will happen behind the door separating our here and now from our imagination?

I don’t want to live like I don’t. I want to live. Not even like I should. Just live, till that simple dot.