Today I was bored with life. It's occoured to me that nothing's really interesting - that everything's just the same, over and over again. Everything's cyclical. The Earth goes around the sun. People lead revolutions that don't really change anything in the long run. People go to work and school. They eat and sleep. And sometimes they complain, and it's usually about how they wish it were some later time. "I'm so tired." "I wish it were Friday." "I just want to get out of school." "I can't wait for this block to end." But then you're just going to go to another class, or coming back and doing the same thing over again the next day, or graduating and getting a job and then eventually dying, like everybody else that's ever walked this planet. I suppose it would be okay if we accepted the fact that things were cyclical, but people just don't. They invariably seem to think that the future will be better than the past. They think that their complaints will help, but nobody even cares because they're all the same. I hear them every day, and they just have no meaning anymore. Everyone is always tired. Everyone always wishes it were Friday.
I know that this is pretty clichÈd. On this site alone, you can probably find hundreds of diaries that talk about how monotonous life is on a daily basis. I'm not really SAYING anything. I'm just contributing to the cycle. I'm not really sure how one goes about saying anything, really. Yesterday in 20th century we looked at Edward Hopper painings. Here are some of my favorites.
At first, I thought that his paintings were great. They portray starkness and lonliness so well... the way that there's never any plant life, and the walls are always bare, and no one ever talks to anyone else... Even the way he sees sunlight is great. It's not a positive thing. It just ruthlessly exposes all the ugliness of everything. It's harsh. It looks as if it's baking things - drying them out. I've looked at things before like strip malls and warehouses and highways, or even the way our complex looks sometimes, and thought, "I wish I could capture that ugliness. That ugliness says something about life. That's the way things really ARE." And he's done it. But after a while I realized that not even someone as original as Hopper is saying anything. He's just finding a unique way of doing the same old complaining. "Life sucks. It's boring. It's lonely. It's ugly."
"No shit Hopper, welcome to the human condition."
Yesterday I went to a workshop at our school. A famous saxophonist named Jeff Koffman came in, and a bunch of us - maybe thirty or fourty - brought our instruments and we jammed and listened to him talk. He was fascinating. I also got to solo on my flute, and he told me afterwards that my improvisation had impressed him. It was awesome and it got me excited. I started thinking, "Music is something worthwhile. That's how I can say something. If I work really hard at it, I know that I can become an outstanding musician, because I have the ear. Maybe I can even do that for a living."
But then I thought... "Why? It's not like there's anything new to say."
At this point, I'm assuming that Adam does not want me back, partly because of actual evidence but mostly because that's what's easiest to assume. I still miss him. But at this point it's kind of like an annoying cold. I just try to ignore it and carry on with my life, and periodically I groan and say, "This is annoying. I can't wait until it goes away," but it's not like it MATTERS. It's just THERE. I don't even feel mentally attatched to it anymore. I treat my tears now like they are a runny nose. I leave kleenex beside my bed and wipe them up as I do my math homework or whatever.
I guess I'm just tired.
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