Conversations, sodas, and answering machines

May 09, 2007 23:53

Sometimes, I like to think that my life is like a movie. I pick out certain "scenes" and say, "That would be so good in my movie." I don't say that out loud, of course. I'm not absolutely crazy. But I feel like my life would entertain people. It's pretty well-written, too. I guess you could make the argument that everyone is "well-written," but I can only see my life, now can't I?

Obviously, my entire life wouldn't make it into the final cut. There would be the key scenes of certain storylines. It couldn't be just one movie, either. It's far too long. But I definitely think that if my life were made into a screenplay, people would like it.

I got this really cool feeling driving home from Laramie. I opened the window, since the night was the exact right temperature for night. Day is a little too hot, but night is perfect. I let the warm wind blow in my face while I listened to my iPod. I was driving home from a Cherry Coke and an entertaining conversation with Greg, and it just hit me that I needed to enjoy those moments for all they were worth. Next year I'm leaving for the city, so I won't get these moments. Not in the same way, anyway. I'll miss driving among wooded areas. But I'll be fine.

They're right when they say "life is beautiful." American Beauty really captures the essence of beauty so well, in my opinion. There is a sort of beauty in everything: human reactions, fleeting moments, even the saddest things you can imagine. As long as you can see the beauty, you'll be fine. If you can't, you'll be miserable. If you can never see the beauty of tragedy, you'll probably be miserable for most of your life because we live in tragedy. If we can't deal with tragedy, we can't get along well at all.

I've rambled. I've said some uncharacteristic things. However, I've always felt what I just wrote...just, in a different way. That's the only way I could really put it to words.

To David and Greg,
Adieu
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