Wednesday, March 12, 2014

The District in the Wee Hours: One Day Is Today.

It is about 15 minutes until two in the morning, and at one point it was Wednesday night, but I think now it's Thursday morning. That's how that kind of thing works.

It was what my parents always called "the wee hours of the morning," and it is in these times that, when still awake, one gets to thinking about a lot of the things that maybe don't occur to us at other times of the day.

It is my roommate's birthday today, and so we sat up talking for a while about the segue from college into "real" adulthood and how difficult that can be at times. For us privileged millenials, it can be one of the hardest epochs of our life. More responsibilities, fewer friends abound - things can get a little lonesome at times. But the reality is that we are never alone.

No matter what thought you have, regardless of how uplifting or despondency-inducing, it is an immutable and undeniable fact of the universe that someone has had that exact thought before. Or, at least, someone out there in the vast ether of existence has experienced that same emotional response that you just had. No question. It is without a doubt, indubitable.

After you graduate from college, or in the period following any period of extended, fostered social engagement, you are going to feel alone. That's a fucking fact. You're going to think that you are the only one, you are going to feel lonely. But this really isn't so. As you sit and reflect upon the uniqueness of your existence and thoughts, someone not too far from you - probably, in reality, less than a mile away - is also staring out their window and meditating on the same shitty, unshakable truths. Or, better said, shitty perceptions. Not truths. There's a difference.

Honestly though, this is what comes out in the wee hours of the morning when you only hear people stirring in other rooms that are not yours, in other apartments. You're by yourself in the fifty-first non-state, reflecting on what could have been, what might be, and what probably - in your so-immaculate opinion - never will come to fruition. And how right you must be, oh grand soothsayer.

Oh, how right you must be, with all the things you have gone through.

A wise person once told me there are two kinds of people in the world: thinkers and existers. One group has a lot more fun than the other, but the other knows why.

They know why, but do they understand? Maybe. It depends.

And ambiguity continues to be a way of life, o, thinker. Will you ever figure it out?

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