…means Cleavage, Cleavage, Cleavage! Hehe. Hello, world. As usual, it’s been a while since my last posting. But this shouldn’t feel like confession. Plus, I’m pretty sure no one’s listening (I mean, reading). We keep trudging along, rolling along… merrily, merrily, merrily. Life is but a dream.
Life is strange. You’re here one minute, gone the next. You’re planning your day in the morning, and before you know it, it’s night and you’re laying out your plans for the next morning. We’re rarely standing still. It’s scary to know you have nothing to do but wait. What are we waiting for? My cousin made me aware of this recently. She said, “Today, I’m going to enjoy doing nothing, because I rarely get the time to do that.” My god, she’s right, I thought. When do we ever set aside time to do nothing? We may end up doing nothing on any given day, but we hardly plan for it. On most occasions, it feels like time wasted. But why is that? Why do we feel the need to “fill time” with something productive?
On Friday, my girlfriend and I visited the Edward Kennedy Institute. On Saturday, I posted pictures of our trip online, and spent the majority of that day constantly checking to see if anyone had responded to the post. I don’t know why I did that, except that maybe I couldn’t think of anything better to do. I didn’t gain any new insights from people’s replies, didn’t make or strengthen existing connections, didn’t add anything to the human experience. It was just something to do. And as my eyes strained from the glare of the computer or phone screens, I could almost physically feel time slipping away. Like it was leaking from an unsealed crack.
Today is Sunday, and I can’t help thinking about tomorrow and work and traffic. But today’s not over, and I’ve already accomplished a little. These words, for example. They weren’t here but twenty minutes ago. And that’s something, for me. It means effort. The difference between this and a blank screen… I’ve been struggling a lot with writing, lately. Wondering if I burned out or stopped caring or never really had a chance. What I do know is that I feel happy now, and a sense of accomplishment at getting even this far. That’s got to count for something.