In search of impulse

Once in a while I think of him, the man in a suit and hat, singing Sweet Caroline while the crowd cheers him on and sings along. It was at our department retreat last year, where we had an open mic for any singers beside the dance floor. A few people did sing, but I only remember the man singing Sweet Caroline. It was unreal. At first he was nobody, then for 4 minutes, he was somebody, and he went back to being nobody again. For 4 minutes, he was dancing up front, and the crowd was going "pum pum pum". The air felt different; you could feel the singular force of the crowd. Then he steps away, and people stop dancing for a second to ask "who is he?", and the herd is replaced by groups of dancers. I think the man got a friend to record his performance.

You can tell that I am a pessimist because I wonder if it is better to live a dream constantly, or to enter a dream-like state briefly. Transient intense encounters make better stimuli. Constant enjoyment dulls the pleasure. Call it tolerance, or adaptation. I need a surprise, a wakeup call. A shock, however unpleasant, brings a new acute sense to living, richness to life. We get used to a lot of things, too many things. I don't want to take anything for granted, but I know that I do. And on some peaceful nights, I think back and regret the intensity of time passed.