Last night, I fell asleep listening to Manchester Orchestra’s latest LP, Hope. I then woke up at 3am, because my mind was spinning a hundred miles an hour. I’m suprised by my own reaction to it, It’s the same album as Cope, their LP from earlier this year, but every song is re-imagined differently, softer and more acoustically. Cope was heavy, perhaps too much so and many fault it for not really have any “breathing room”, but this is where I think Hope comes back with a second swipe of the audible paintbrush to paint a larger picture.
Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time. – Albert Camus
I was watching a film the other day and in it there was a romantic story arc involving the main character. Some of the interaction between the characters wasn’t what you or I would consider practical, or even remotely realistic as the two main characters embraced for a cinematic kiss.
I find the following to be profoundly true. “Life is easily simplified as the continuous struggle inside of the disparity between our expectations or desires and reality.”
Struggling to accept what is there and when it is drastically contrary to what we expect or want. The Kübler-Ross model stages of grief articulate this point clearly. Often when something happens in our lives that we simply cannot believe, we try exhaust every avenue or possibility that we can take advantage of to make it not true.
Growing up, I was never in a motorcycle family like some of my friends. I thought they were generally cool, and after watching Akira in the mid 90s I thought it would be really sweet to have one. But still, I never understood some of the motorcycle culture. Some of my friends families were decked out in anything Harley-Davidson. Hearing the Live Free radio commercials in Pittsburgh, you’d hear people trying to explain why riding was such a unique experience.
Some brief thoughts.
Not many celebrities deaths cause me to sit down and contemplate everything. I normally stop for a moment, say something thoughtful and move on. Since I don’t know them personally, it’s as if they just retired from public life and stopped making public appearances. Even though I didn’t know Robin Williams personally, this is different and I’ll explain why.
When I about 10 years old, I got a small 25 inch fat CRT television in my room and I rewired the boombox to act as a makeshift surround sound system.
I have not walked this world for long, but I already get nostalgic sometimes. When that happens I find myself zooming out and seeing the entire distance traveled. Like a pinball, I’ve ricocheted ever so gracefully into something unexpected and new multiple times. One peculiar thing has suddenly occurred to me when I sit back and examined my life this time.
The things that have altered my life the most, whether it be people, events, things, I have always been perceived them at the time to be of nothing special or of no significance.
In my last post, I tried to take the idea of Dreams and cast them all into the purifying fire. Burn away all that isn’t worth our true devotion since most of us pursue them with our lives as the bargaining chip. Weigh and measure them and find yourself consciously picking and choosing instead of just accepting the dreams that your mind has naturally formulated from as early as you remember.
Pursue your dreams.
Follow your dreams.
Make your dreams come true.
All are variations of the same message, that your dreams are the flawless ideal and that you should devote your life to fulfilling them. However, I suggest at least pausing and pondering a couple things. Dreams, at least for me, are natural, almost innate, as if I never made the conscious decision to set them on the pedestal of my life.
I learned somewhere a while back that there was a clear difference between Love and Applause, as well as a common confusion with them both. Love can only be experienced when we tear down the superficial walls, these masks that we wear, the artificial auras that we make to puff ourselves up. Until we are fully able to be ourselves, we can only feel love in shimmering flashes, but never the constant, euphoric smother that love brings.
