Looking back at old entries, I realize how stupid I am.
Maybe I should quit writing all this drivel.
Well it was a different weekend, to say the least. sleepless, fascinating, new, and so on. Yet somehow I feel...detached. I feel like I'm just observing my life from a sanitary distance. It's as if I apply equal effort everywhere with no concern for consequences. In a half awake state a few nights ago I blabbed about how I just "try my best" at whatever it is I'm doing. I think that's true (for the things I choose to try), but now I wonder if trying is all there is. What purpose does it serve? What's the meaning of trying for the sake of trying? I believe that one should "burn oneself" in one's current activity -- "participate", "be present", "be aware" to the fullest extent possible. That's absolutely worth aiming for.
What effect does that burning have on others? Can somebody else get hurt from being too close? Maybe. That's a sad thought because if the intent is to make everybody else happy, then surely there is more to it than just burning? What happens when the fire goes out? All that's left is ashes. (and disappointment? for whom?)
I'm being so obtuse right not that I might as well stop.
I'm just confused that the one time when I should feel something, I oddly feel empty. I'm grasping for meaning and hoping not to ruin anyone else in the process.
These are from a recent, less than fruitful, day riding the red line. I tried to explain at my class what I'm looking for in the subway photos that I've done and continue to do. I keep saying that I'm looking to capture the interaction (and lack of interaction) between people, but that's not quite right. I'm really looking for connections between one person and another, between a person and their environment, and ultimately, between people and me (or my camera, anyway). A person doesn't have to do anything to make a connection. Sometimes it's obviously visible. For instance, someone who is intentionally trying to shut out the world might inadvertently make a connection with me because I notice his game. The moments where that experience is visually translatable seem few and far between. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough.
I saw a girl on the subway who had an old bike with her. She rested her head on it, examined its pedals, and chewed on its cables. It was beautiful -- her connection to her bike. But the pictures I took don't show that well enough. What a shame.
On another note, here I am as one of those dudes from Dune:
I went to the Annual CCHS Cross Country Alumni Race (is everything capitalized?). The school has changed quite a bit. There's a whole new wing with lots of classrooms and fancy features like sound-proof practice rooms for their new music program. That would've been nice when I was there.
Unfortunately, they've gotten obsessively paranoid about security. All the doors are locked during the day, and visitors have to press a button and answer 3 questions just to get in the door: "What is your name? What is your quest? What.....is your favorite color?" I just walked in with some other people and didn't even stop at the desk to get a visitor sticker. I'm such a rebel. I was afraid the gestapo would find me wandering the halls and send me to the new prison wing that they've built -- the Russel Lacroix Memorial Dungeon.
Speaking of rebels, I noticed that since the students are wearing semi-uniforms (LL Bean shirts with the CCHS logo, but different colors), the truly rebellious kids wear their shirts with the collar flipped up! *GASP*! What is this, "Fast Times At Central Catholic"?
Anyway, I stuck out quite a bit from the masses of LL Bean conformists (and I was wearing a tie, no less!). It was a little weird. I feel bad for anyone going there who wants to be different. Sorry, kid, it's not allowed!
But on a positive note, a couple teachers actually remembered me, which was a little surprising considering my previous, cynical remarks. Don't get me wrong, I'm still cynical, but it was nice to know that some teachers make an effort to remember all their students, as difficult as that may be.
Something I've noticed is that whenever I go back and talk to teachers, it's interesting that they readily talk about things that they'd never share with current students. I don't want to say "gossip", but "inside information" about the school, teachers, whatever. I'm not sure why they aren't as forthcoming with their kids -- maybe they don't want to reveal any potential "weakness" in the high school societal structure. Who knows? But it makes for some intriguing conversation that balances out whatever cynical memories I might be recollecting at the time.