“Every year I live, I dislike routine more and more, though I see that society rests on that and other falsehoods. The more I screw myself down to hours, the more I become expert at giving out thought and life in regulated rations – the more I weary of this world and long to take upon wings.”
- Margaret Fuller
It was during my proscribed time for homework this evening that I decided to set forth on every non-sequiter activity possible just to avoid responsibility. Reading about the West Memphis 3. Taking notes on the presidential candidates. Watching Sponge-Bob with Josh after ordering pizza. Digging through old books. And then I run across an old journal. From 10 years ago.
After leafing through the pages and becoming reacquainted with my old self, I realized I now feel terribly old, despite watching cartoons with my son on a regular basis. I also realized I have been candidly chronicling my dreams, passions, and laments for the last 18 years…and still going strong. I don’t mean “still going strong” as in I’m still writing. The day I stop writing is the day I have lost all of my appendages.
No, I mean that the old spirit is still there. The one that wonders about society, that yearns for cataclysmic change, that petitions for justice, and that staunchly refuses to conform. I read all of my old words, and I knew she was still here, deep down inside, past the callouses and stretch marks of the weathered exterior. She hasn’t grown up. After all these years, she still remains that dogged, immutable voice, perhaps waiting for the rest of me to catch up.
I still hear her. I still revolt against convention and compliance. I still want life to be wildly absurd and soulfully nurturing. Dreams should not be the sacrifice for a life of muted beats from a dispassionate drummer. Numb servitude. That’s not the game I want anymore. To be weak. To be prosaic. Not up to par. No assembly required and batteries not included. Another somebody special 2000.
So I want a new game. A coup d’etat to the stagnant and ordinary. I want to cultivate a garden of exhilaration and adventure, if only for my own appreciation.
(Needless to say, homework did not get done tonight.)
Filed under: Inspiration, Musings, Random, Rants, Writing | Leave a Comment
Tags: happiness, life, life to the fullest, love, passion, reflections, revolt against compliance, spirit, thoughts, Writing
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