Addicted to Entropy
Have you ever had a moment where a character in a book, or on tv, or in a movie starring Bill Murray, learns a profound life lesson that in some spookily ironic way applies directly to your specific situation? In those instances, I usually scramble for a spare slip of paper to write down the profound bit of information before my distracted brain forgets its exact wording. I have a little board above my desk where I keep lists and reminders and that's where I usually pin up these great pieces of wisdom. I stand back, with my hands on my hips, glowing with the sense of satisfaction, thinking I've finally joined the ranks of the philosophical elite. That tiny paper with its amazing life lesson will change my life forever. When biographers pour over my belongings in search of clues to my genius, when historians in some distant future scour my archives to find the hidden wisdom of their benefactor,they will come across that tiny slip of paper and all shall be revealed.
Then, after a day or so, I stare at my board, expecting to be inspired and instead I have no idea what the note is supposed to mean. I leave it up there for at least a week hoping the meaning might mysteriously return, but it almost never does. In those moments, I want so badly to change, to be better than I am, but I seem like most people to be completely incapable of injecting my daily life with the profound lessons I learn in fiction. This would be depressing, except I know that those feelings will come back the next time I watch an amazing movie or when art weirdly intersects my oddball existence.
Then, after a day or so, I stare at my board, expecting to be inspired and instead I have no idea what the note is supposed to mean. I leave it up there for at least a week hoping the meaning might mysteriously return, but it almost never does. In those moments, I want so badly to change, to be better than I am, but I seem like most people to be completely incapable of injecting my daily life with the profound lessons I learn in fiction. This would be depressing, except I know that those feelings will come back the next time I watch an amazing movie or when art weirdly intersects my oddball existence.