inreaction

the sting of defeat is seldom worse than the regret of not trying.

although i’m never a fan of my own one liners, this random thought that found it’s way into my advice for a friend reminded me of hypocrisy that is somewhat inevitable. then i realized that most hypocrisy is not a bad thing.

in it’s literal sense, hypocrisy is maintaining a mantra unfulfilled by one’s actions. and yet, much of what we learn is from our own mistakes–whether or not we repeat them. that is, to learn from a mistake does not mean we gain the capability to not repeat it. and yet, the wisdom we garner may be of use to those we care for. and if we dispense it, in the hope that they may have the strength we lack, we should not be branded all the weaker and more judgmental.

all of parenting could perhaps be deemed hypocritical. but does the alcoholic mother who never allows her children a sip of hennessey become a broken woman who wishes her children better than the defeat she suffered? or is she even weaker than the heroine addict who tells his son that drugs can be used safely?

throughout these writings, a sense of shameless arrogance and high-and-mighty-ness fall in and out of the written words. and yet i know little of life or how to control my own. while i am certainly in no dire straits, sentences like the one that started this page are of little relevance to the choices i make in my own interactions. and i hope that any strength that anyone has gained through this journey–and any strength i’ve subconsciously given myself–is not cheapened by this “hypocrisy.”

1. around 4 yrs old – sitting on the kitchen counter talking to my mom about why people “fall in love.”
2. around 5 years old – realizing i don’t have a gift for my mom so trying to persuade her the panorama (those box scenes we made in elementary school) i made a month ago was for her birthday.
3. 4 years to 18? – making forts with pillows and mattresses.
4. rearranging this little plastic table that was my “desk” for my “art projects” in my room.
5. 4th grade – moving my car bed at an angle that was better “feng shui.”
6. giving into my sister doing my hair and making me dress 50’s for her class project.
7. playing a math computer game on our old, old, old mac (apple one or something–i can’t remember the name of that darn game).
8. making designs in construction paper with scissors, putting them in the window, and seeing the color difference in the covered / non covered spots.
9. kindergarten – getting told on for saying “jerk,” covering it up by saying i said “jury.”
10. 1st grade – getting sick on the day we were getting green eggs and ham.

1. v-8 is the best drank in the world.
2. people in suburban, non-school areas don’t know how to walk without getting in other people’s way.
3. oranges without seeds are greatly superior to clemintines.
4.i find it entertaining how christmas brings dads and husbands in hopeless droves to shopping places, where they are easily persuaded into spending far too much.
5. “nobody’s listening to me but it feels alright”
6. 26 is a daunting number at 12:24.
7. working in retail is a fine opportunity to dumb oneself down and remember that people are people.
8.my hair has reached a new zenith of terribleness.
9. the picture to the right was taken and masterfully edited by camille fairbanks.
10. i’m always annoyed by the way the brita pitcher never quite fits under the sink in our bathroom at school. you 11. always waste some water when you pull it out from under it.
11. i’ve been hyrdating like mad since i got sick. my body is flushed.
12. i think that living for meaning is like taking a heart and defining it by the gaps between beats.
13. i enjoy analogies and creative wit.
14. i wish i knew how to dance in any other fashion.
15. i miss painting.
16 i have a notebook with a “truth of the day” in which i draw a little comic and have a “life’s little instruction book” type saying i think of.
17. i cannot wait until i live with the roomates i chose.
18. the current weather makes me feel that winter might actually exist.
19. it would be grand if all of us were terribly honest with one another–that we didn’t wait around hoping for other people to erupt in the spontaneous acknowledgments we so dyingly crave.
20. alex jeffries has great corny jokes.
21. So do you think that we could work out a sign? [so I know that it's you and that it's over so I won't even try]
22. slow paced music with lyrical intensity makes my life feel wonderfully unimportant.
23. you are not as amazing as you think.
24. you’re more amazing than you’ll ever know.
25. tomorrow i’ll start forgetting you. or maybe the next day.
26. we all got wood and nails…

it’s been more than 30 days since my pen has stabbed haphazardly at these seemingly constrictive lines. i’ve been far too pacified by blank, loose sheets (or worse, digital convenience). regardless, i resolve–in a manner completely indifferent to upcomidn calendar dates–to write in books, in a manner that will be preserved for later retrospection.

regardless, i am inspired tonite by the amazingly gifted words of a friend. and while i am aware that my skills in character sketching and story telling are greatly deficient, i wish to add short stories or at least concrete images to some of my scribblings.

but tonite–upon my return to the green knolls and homogeneity that is laguna–i find myself reflecting upon my more “permanent” home–los angeles. while my experiences with the city have been limited by my intrigue with the beautiful campus, the change of scenery has imparted certain impressions upon my curiosity.

for one, i find its careful balance of urban distance and neighborhood appeal tantalizing. when i speak of los angeles, i’m speaking of the boroughs of posh luxury [westwood, brentwood, beverly hills, santa monica], and the seemingly different locale of hollywood. the earlier venus–though varied in their nature–share a decided dose of carefree living and understated elitism [although westwood is defined as the former with too little attentiveness to others for the latter].

they seem as though their residents and shopkeepers juggle the awareness that their towns are among the most envied in the nation [and some would say the world], with the indifference that allows them to live akin to anyone else.

westwood–defined by and large not by its village but by the college itself–is in and of itself a different town. completely understated in its sins and saviors, the are is neither raging with forced-out-of-control-ness, nor amish territory. greek community vibrations excepted, it’s a subtle yet sunny place.

between the two aforementioned areas, certain arteries exist. sunset blvd, a street written on the lips of silver-screen hopefuls and sightseers alike–borders the northern rim of campus. watching shiny flash cars and tattered old ones traverse the road while walking to and from a midnite royce hall visit adds a certain feeling–as though you are truly in la.

aside from the glitz lies decadence and trend-seeking and trend-setting that is hollywood. and while my two visits lent me only a taste of what i know is much more, there exists a certain awesomeness to the subcity. it is truly a self-contained vision of uniqueness and intrigue.

but–for me–la is only half the story. the anthology rests within the experiences of the college.

the college exists in two spheres, dependent upon one another: the campus, and the residential communities. the campus is–as objectively as i can state–the structural embodiment of learning and clarity. from the majestic royce hall [a building with which i believe every bruin shares a love affair], to the underrated kerkhoff , to the rolling grasses off bruin walk, and the inviting calm of dickson court, it captures a sense of daily beauty that is only enhanced by eath setting of the sun.

it is where you wish to find the most beautiful person you know and sit in quiet reverence with.

the residential areas find their strength not in their architectural fiber but in their ability to house not students but communities. and while it is clear that the experiences of each floor and every building are quite varied, i do believe that any individual can find commonalities [and/or grow from differences]. it’s not so much that everyone will like everyone–but that they can feel comfortable with at least someone.

i’m quite aware that at least a million students love their universities–that “nothing is better than” their colleges. and yet, my appreciation of la is not grounded in the chance i wouldn’t be happy anywhere else–it’s based on the fact that i’m lucky to thrive here.

the nite is barely gone and i have a few more hours in me. i hope my finger tapping doesn’t wake my roommates but it wouldn’t be the first time someone in our room was woken up.

i’m disappointed because the past few times i’ve written have been typed directly here, and not into a notebook. and while i know that i still write the same, i really want to have a collection that i can look back on in my own scrappy handwriting in half-finished notebooks. i need to have more discipline in this matter.

regardless, i’m here and i’m in los angeles and i’m alive. tonite was one of those nites that reminds you of two things.

for one, it reminds you that a nite is only a nite. while last nite was met with me being fully awake until sometime between five and six in the morning, i hope to sleep in at most an hour tonite. but the point is not that i was awake but why i couldn’t sleep–i felt as though a burden had been born on my shoulders–but as though it wasn’t the first time i had spawned such a weight. i was, and still am [but more on that later], angry at myself, annoyed by others, and generally feeling as sunny as san andreas. a steady symphony of snoring sounds was stopping me from sleeping, but this was only a small segment of the sorry state of affairs i was surrounded by. i was terribly restless–i wanted to run to the top of some promontory point, wanting to take in the vast view and remind myself that all that came before and all i am is no more than a pixel on the wider screen of life. i’m a strand of hair in the brush that paints all of humanity–important because i am born in it’s image and, along with my peers, necessary for it to have a picture at all, but irrelevant because i am easily disposable and replaceable.

that’s the humility i seek but find myself to self-indulged to revel in. i know this is terribly facetious and “arrogant,” but i would like to think that the honesty that accompanies this diatribe lessens the sting of my confusion. i know it doesn’t for myself.

so that was last nite–and it reminded me that i would not have felt as happy as i did tonite if i didn’t have a sort of lowness to bring to the table. even God cannot have up without down–in the way he could not make a forest without trees. it would serve us well to realize that there are certain holy relationships and juxtapositions that even the divine cannot escape–much less us with all our smallness.

and one of these relationships, this being the second of my “things,” was shown more plainly to me than ever tonite. it struck me, quite unoriginally i am aware, that much of what we have is fleeting–it’s flimsy. i tried to think of situations or feelings that i feel in a way other than i feel when standing on ice in the tropics. and i could only think of one, but i would rather not discuss that tonite.

happiness–true, breathtaking, shaking happiness is, by nature, a fleeting experience. i think this is even more true than it is for pain or grief. pain can be sustained much longer than happiness in my belief–the death of a loved one often stabs much deeper than the matrimony of lovers. furthermore, the latter can more easily be erased by the former than the reverse. the moments i think of as truly happy (tonite for example) are moments, or perhaps even weeks, but i can recall periods of intense pain.

so happiness and pain are at their core both evasive experiences. what else follows their example? stress, for most of us. many of us are stressed, and some overworked (although i really doubt my life is characterized by either), but most of us are subjected only to momentary bouts of exhuastion led on by longer stretches of procrastination. jealousy. anger. pride. infatuation. frustration.

also interesting is the similar effects of seemingly opposing emotions. when most people are extremely angry or extremely happy, they don’t get much sleep. pure rage and giddiness both release adrenaline and endorphins in our body–even our physical presence can’t distinguish between the two.

it follows, then, that the reason love is treated with such reverence in a culture based on fleeting feelings is that it is supposedly a testament to perseverance–supposedly a posterchild for all that we want from life.

and yet–it’s not. sure we all want to write about love–feel love–be in love. how can someone be in an emotion. being happy is a state of being–but being in love is connotative of something entirely different. it is a state of living–as though one that is in love is not meant to feel anger, hate , and all that we we feel when “normally” alive. perhaps that’s why the divorce rate in the little county of citrus is sixty percent–perhaps that’s why so many of us run from closeness and want it all the more–perhaps, we’re all under the impression that what will come will change all that’s been.

it won’t. i daresay i’ve been in love for far too long–and the beauty of it all is that when it comes down to it (love or no love) tonite, is just a nite.