Beauty and Memories

I’m 27. Isn’t that too young to feel bad about how the world has beaten the joy out of you? Today I got excited about something in a way that I hadn’t since maybe the age of 12. I watched something, an animation, as I always do on a late night. This time however I wanted to steer away from the sordid adult animations and decided to watch a family oriented film instead. These films rarely hold back. They’re not miserly with the beauty since their main goal is to make the viewer as happy as possible so that the kids fall in love with the characters and buy merchandise, and in the process they create magic. MAGIC.

The beauty of it was so substantial that it affected me on an existential level. How do I allow myself to enjoy beauty freely, live life without holding back?

As soon as I smile about something insignificant I tell myself off. As soon as the birds call my name and the wind blows me an invitation, I stop my feet from walking. As soon as the sirens invite me to sing their song, I bite my tongue.

The rest of the world around me has a heavy blanket on top of it, weighing it down, suffocating it.

When I was about 16 stories of love and lust were aggressively marketed to me. They wanted me to focus on the carnal aspects of life, you know, the ones that give you strong immediate satisfaction while tearing a hole in you, wider and wider with each fix. Yes those. Before the age of 16 such fixes were not part of my life. Yes, I ate chocolate and masturbated but I didn’t look forward to it and structure my life around it. I never made either an event. The main events of my day was going out for walks with friends or going to the library. These days, sexual gratification and physical pleasures such as food and sleep are events that I structure my day around. They are the goal of my day. While they give me immediate satisfaction I find myself needing more each time. Like a drug. I’m now sexually “abnormal” and obese. This is adulthood.

I want to create memories again. Before I become an “addict” I would create a memory each day. My days seemed longer and brighter because of that. But now that I’m 27, I’ve created only a handful of memories in the past 365 days. You know what, lets count them: Toronto trip in September for passport, YoungWorld speech I gave, team event in December, Toronto trip in speech for museum, inviting over ex to meet parents. That’s it. And out of those only one is happy. Only one happy memory in the past 365 fucking days. Ok writing this down has made me kind of angry. I never even went out on a hike, day trip or taken the fucking bus! I have to change this. I want to do a one memory per week challenge. I’ll start a list of challenges. now.

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