I have another guest post for you, Dear Readers. I have a few comments to make, which I will place after this particular work. No real introduction is necessary, besides this: The following is a very beautiful piece of writing, please enjoy.
Here I am, sitting in front of a blank page. I specifically asked Loud to let me write a guest post (and he was kind enough to acquiesce), and now that I sit down to write, I find my stores strangely depleted. Perhaps, I think, my post will not measure up. I have political views, but I don’t express them nearly as nicely as either Loud or CheeseLikeSubstance does. I could talk about myself, but Star has already taken that idea, which leaves me, Isabella-Murder, with very little actual substance.
Sitting in a coffee shop, mug of steaming coffee at my fingertips, black of course, to go with my own blunt nature. A woman comes in, the bell on the door shrieking its warning to the cloistered drinkers who shrink back into the warmth, avoiding the blast of cold air that forces its way into the heavy atmosphere. The newcomer is watched from the shadows as she moves across the floor, removing her hat and gloves, shaking the excess snow onto the floor where it melts into puddles to be muddied and forgotten.
And is it not true that details are often muddied and forgotten? Three sentences above capture four seconds of time, but we rarely take even a fraction of that to notice life around us. Our culture is becoming increasingly egocentric, to the point where we forget about the beauty in simple moments. We fail to notice the life around us because we are wrapped in our own thoughts, our own actions, our own emotions. The world around us becomes a mere stage for our own performance, the people in it the secondary characters to make ourselves shine.
“Live in the present” we are told. “Carpe diem”, seize the moment. No. Live in our present, we must say. Seize our moments. One person’s present pales in significance next to the story of a people, the story of a race, the story of a world, because isn’t it true that we are all connected in one way or another? Maybe as friends, maybe as acquaintances, maybe as a fleeting glance on the sidewalk, maybe as the orphan who made your scarf.
So smile. Laugh. Make love. Share your present, share your moments, because the best things in life are those that can be shared. Our time here on this earth is uncertain, so why not live each moment as if it was our last. I stumbled across a saying I rather liked: “Live like you’ll die tomorrow; love like you’ll live forever.” Forget pain, forget regret, because it’s all part of life, and there is still so much joy in life.
Feel the joy in pain, the bittersweet pain that could tear you apart. But it feels so good to be alive, all of it, the good and the bad. Cry. Let the tears stain your cheeks, the sobs shake your body, and it is wonderful, so wonderful to live. Or laugh until tears fall again, laugh until your ribs ache and air can scarcely find its way into your lungs. Life is joyous, living is magical. Every experience is a miracle; feel the joy. The warmth and fire of lips against yours, the ecstasy of pleasure, of two bodies and souls entwined, and there is endless, boundless joy.
Thoughts can become so muddled in one’s head, become themselves entwined as if they made endless love to each other. And is it not also miraculous that we are able to think, that we see when we open our eyes, that I can hear the monotonous tapping of my fingers on the keyboard and I can take comfort from it. I hope, for your sake dear readers, that my post at least approached something resembling coherence. Loud, I hope you didn’t find this too much of a bother to read. With all my love, IM.
I think IM is onto something here, because I can be on both sides of the line with respect to sharing experiences versus keeping them for onesself. Is it always necessary to share? I might argue that spending a certain amount of time alone is a good thing. I know I often enjoy walking alone when I'm not in a particularly talkative mood. On the other hand, some of the best times I have spent in this world have been in the company of friends. It's hard to say whether we enjoy a little respite from time to time so that we can be better friends, or because we don't want our friends to see us drained. I know that when I'm off my game, so to speak, I don't much feel like being around people, because I'll look weakened, draggy. In either case, the goal is to put our best face forward. Do we do it because we are selfish to the core, or because our friends are worth it? Can we know? Cynical being that I am, I think we're probably covering our flanks, keeping ourselves on guard.
Please, do share your thoughts.