I know that I said that I would write regularly, but it's not going to happen these few weeks. I'm busy, and I will be busy. No, this is not some attempt to make myself sound important. There is nothing to be proud of being busy with the mundane things in life. I wouldn't dismiss my activities altogether though. Being busy with frivolous mundane things can be rather fulfilling -- there is a specific goal, and you know you can finish the task. It makes you feel good about yourself, and maybe there will be a virtuous cycle that spirals into larger things. Being busy keeps me from those existential thoughts that plague me, which is both a relief and a source of discomfort. Falling asleep as soon as my head touches the pillow, instead of staying awake and reflecting on recent events -- would it be absurd to claim that it's times like this that distinguishes the worker bees from the individuals? Maybe. For all we know, worker bees do think. We sort of follow these time progressions with regards to our responsibilities in life anyway. Maybe we are worker bees.
You know that rebeling is futile when the rebel follows a set of motions exhibited by (an)other rebel(s). If "On the Road" is the bible for the rebel, isn't that still following some sort of a guideline? A stereotype defined by society albeit different from another society stereotype that you are trying to get out of.
I walked past a poster for a play that had the word "Kerouac" on it. It was like the sign saying "for madmen only", and like Harry Haller, I had to walk in. Because, maybe.
1 comment:
I never thought that there'll be someone like me who would enjoy being busy with frivolous mundane things and actually feel fulfilled at the same time. Well, not never ever though, I knew there would surely be someone out there too, I just never heard anyone else say that before.
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