Practice in Futility
I was outside with a couple dozen mourners at about 3am or so, and I noticed a few things that really opened my eyes. I didn't really have any supreme revelations, but it all brought about several issued that i've been pussy-footing around for the past several years.
If you don't know what I'm talking about, then you don't need to know. If you do need to know, then you would already know, so don't bother asking.
I looked around me tonight, and what I saw was magnificent. It may sound horrible, but that's how I describe what I witnessed. So many people, all gathered together in the middle of the cold night, all holding each other, crying, calling close friends and parents, patting people on the back, some just sitting silently -- but every one of them, including myself, all there for him. We've all thought to ourselves at one time or another, if I died, who would care? Who would be broken up by it, and who would cry and curse and wish with all their might that what was done could be undone? And what I saw tonight was a mass majority of such individuals - all for this one man. I find that it is difficult not to conclude that he was in no way, shape, or form a failure in anything. They say that no man is a failure who has friends, and I believe he was no exception.
I mean no dishonor to him, but it honestly makes me think of what would happen if it was I that this happened to (and nearly did happen two years ago). I didn't know almost 90% of those people that I saw tonight, and I know that not a single one of those would have been out there for me. Not that I'm bitter or scorning anybody or anything -- I mean, it's no one's fault but mine. And that's what bothers me.
What am I doing with my life?
I sit in my apartment and do homework. I play video games and dodgeball in my free time. I go to classes and go to work. I go to the gym and work out (without result, I might add). I go to El Cam and do homework (typically for around 6 hours). I get good grades. I make money. I make big plans that never work out.
But what do I have to show for it all? What's left after all of the years have gone by? A few derelict friendships that I talk to or keep in touch with maybe once or twice a year, a good resumé, maybe one decent friendship here at Tech, and the torn and tattered remains of old relationships which I put so much into (some, admittedly, less than others). Is that it then? Is that all that's accomplished by the late great Bryan Dannowitz? Is that all there is to show for it? And is there any way to change who I am - any way to change how I've been doing things?
And I won't even go into the whole ri-freaking-diculous religious aspect of it all. To put it succinctly though, I think it's a load of crap.
You know what though? The cruelest thing here isn't death. Rather, it's the lives that won't - can't - stop, even in light of such an event. Time, merciless and relentless as always, will toll on, things will go back to normal, all of this new resolve and grief will fade (some less than others), and all we will have left is the guilt of forgetting.
I just don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what to do with myself.
And all because of someone that I barely knew...
"For all his bluster, it is the sad province of man that he cannot choose his triumph."
"How many lives do we live? How many times do we die?
They say we all lose 21 grams at the exact moment of our death. Everyone. And how much fits into 21 grams?
How much is lost? When do we lose 21 grams? How much goes with them? How much is gained?"
"Don't work too hard, don't drink too much. Take nothing to extremes except a love for life." -- Michel Hogan
If you don't know what I'm talking about, then you don't need to know. If you do need to know, then you would already know, so don't bother asking.
I looked around me tonight, and what I saw was magnificent. It may sound horrible, but that's how I describe what I witnessed. So many people, all gathered together in the middle of the cold night, all holding each other, crying, calling close friends and parents, patting people on the back, some just sitting silently -- but every one of them, including myself, all there for him. We've all thought to ourselves at one time or another, if I died, who would care? Who would be broken up by it, and who would cry and curse and wish with all their might that what was done could be undone? And what I saw tonight was a mass majority of such individuals - all for this one man. I find that it is difficult not to conclude that he was in no way, shape, or form a failure in anything. They say that no man is a failure who has friends, and I believe he was no exception.
I mean no dishonor to him, but it honestly makes me think of what would happen if it was I that this happened to (and nearly did happen two years ago). I didn't know almost 90% of those people that I saw tonight, and I know that not a single one of those would have been out there for me. Not that I'm bitter or scorning anybody or anything -- I mean, it's no one's fault but mine. And that's what bothers me.
What am I doing with my life?
I sit in my apartment and do homework. I play video games and dodgeball in my free time. I go to classes and go to work. I go to the gym and work out (without result, I might add). I go to El Cam and do homework (typically for around 6 hours). I get good grades. I make money. I make big plans that never work out.
But what do I have to show for it all? What's left after all of the years have gone by? A few derelict friendships that I talk to or keep in touch with maybe once or twice a year, a good resumé, maybe one decent friendship here at Tech, and the torn and tattered remains of old relationships which I put so much into (some, admittedly, less than others). Is that it then? Is that all that's accomplished by the late great Bryan Dannowitz? Is that all there is to show for it? And is there any way to change who I am - any way to change how I've been doing things?
And I won't even go into the whole ri-freaking-diculous religious aspect of it all. To put it succinctly though, I think it's a load of crap.
You know what though? The cruelest thing here isn't death. Rather, it's the lives that won't - can't - stop, even in light of such an event. Time, merciless and relentless as always, will toll on, things will go back to normal, all of this new resolve and grief will fade (some less than others), and all we will have left is the guilt of forgetting.
I just don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what to do with myself.
And all because of someone that I barely knew...
"For all his bluster, it is the sad province of man that he cannot choose his triumph."
"How many lives do we live? How many times do we die?
They say we all lose 21 grams at the exact moment of our death. Everyone. And how much fits into 21 grams?
How much is lost? When do we lose 21 grams? How much goes with them? How much is gained?"
"Don't work too hard, don't drink too much. Take nothing to extremes except a love for life." -- Michel Hogan