Whilst walking down to the beach, his arm around my waist, he asked if I was cold. A slight, standard sea breeze was blowing – and I said no. Yet he grabbed me closer and said, “Don’t worry, I keep you warm.”
The song by The Killers : Bones, comes to mind.
Whilst actually breathing within the boundaries of life’s moments, sometimes we forget ourselves. Our mind adrift, waves of what to do when we’re home, when next you’re gonna get to play Skyrim etc. and during these moments, instead of appreciating them, we end up thinking ‘WTF this guy is a bit creepy, but cute.’
Prompted by many years of literary analysis in and out of school, it’s become a habit of mine to run through my day before bed. Pre-REM defragmentation, before I knock at the dream kingdom’s door (no, TS Eliot, I’m not dying). That’s when it hit me : I actually experienced something of a … romantic (for lack of a better word? Cue Deadmau5 in the background) moment – something from a cheesy teenage movie; something I never thought I’d get to do. Thinking on life’s experiences somehow seems to make them more meaningful, as if reflection were a rag with polish, making memories glimmer like summer stars in your mind. In the moment, what we may find creepy may actually be laden with meaning or good intention.
However, the drawback of this thought process is over analysis : finding meaning where there is none. For example, he didn’t eat nachos. This doesn’t mean anything. Even if it did, I don’t care because it’s so insignificant. To those completely infatuated, though, every little detail becomes a complex series of meanings, where they begin to formulate pseudo-paradigms and work themselves up to naught.
Perhaps the lesson of life is to, indeed, enjoy the ride, and to enhance the present, sometimes glancing at the rear view mirror can bring a profound sense of satisfaction to a weary mind.
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