Life

Things keep on rolling, yet I know they will stop. One day I will die, and become worm food, but what should I do until then? Are we all just in a waiting line, bidding out time until we check out of this life?

How long is my wait? 80 years maximum? Why, oh why would I ever want to waste my "wait" being bored. Boredom is saying "no" to life; I really don't want to do that.

Search for truth, and in so doing find what it truly means to be "alive".

Chasing Ghosts

Saturday night I went on about a 30-35 mile bike ride. It was mostly clear outside, so I felt inspired by the view of the stars, and the emptiness of the pacific horizon to keep riding. The path I chose was one I have rode pieces of before... but not for quite some time. In fact during my ride I reached a point where I hadn't ridden for almost a year and it was during that ride one year ago that I took Sabrina along with me after she borrowed a bike from a friend.

It was a unique feeling I felt as I flew down the empty dark road, on the same exact route I had taken with Sabrina some time ago. I felt myself almost want to turn around at the same place we did: I still remember the look of happiness on her face as she flew down the road ahead of me: that particular section is completely downhill, and extends for about a mile. I also remember warning her that for every foot we go down, we must ride back up, a warning that she decided to listen to.

I was aware of the exact spot we turned around, and as I rode past that spot last night I had a somewhat sad feeling, but decided to ignore it.

It was on my way back, as I approached the same spot Sabrina and I had turned around one year ago that I really felt deja vu. I could vividly remember riding ahead of her, looking behind me to shout words of encouragement as she pushed back up the hill we had just rode so fast down. As I rode that night I noticed that in those spots I turned my head back around, almost half expecting to see little Sabrina behind me pushing away at the hill.

It seems that on that ride I was not alone, but I was chasing ghosts. No matter how fast, or slow I rode they always seemed to slowly disappear into the hands of time, fading away from me. It is a melancholy thing.

Its funny how my memories work. The fondest, warmest thoughts I have are centered around activities like this one: biking with friends. I don't know why, but for me that small stretch of road is strong in my mind. For some reason at that certain spot on a nameless road in Hawaii, the ghosts of my memory continue to ride.

Short Thought

Today was rather busy. From 8-9:30 I had my biology class, and then from 10-5:45 I worked. When I got back to the apartment I cooked chili and macaroni and watched a movie, after that I went for a killer ride up the Poianko Extension.

I downloaded "Kung Fu Hustle" and am fighting the urge to watch it... I should not since I have homework and its super later. I haven’t been sleeping much, and I can feel it in my body, I need to change that.

I think I should start doing readings for my directed studies class I will have this fall... I should start reading primary source material from both Descartes and Spinoza.

What does it mean to live lucidly? Am I in control, or on autopilot... I desire a life of self awareness, of self actualization. I know what I must do to join the path, and it requires action as well as conviction.

Small Details

I often find it hard to write about the small details of my life - the things such as what I did at so and so time, where I was at this time, who I talked to then.... etc... For some reason these things seem superfluous and meaningless in the big picture of life, but then again I am reminded almost continually that happiness and understanding can indeed be found in the small details. My likes, dislikes, and most importantly my actions speak to who I am as a person; they speak to my constitution and abilities.

Today was busy with lab class at 8 in the morning, and then work at the bike shop from 10-1, and then biology lab from 1:30-4:30. I was chased by rain on all my commutes and I more or less managed to stay dry. My new Fox jersey was a blessing as it allowed my skin to breathe and does no hold sweat like cotton shirts! I fell asleep at the apartment sometime around 6 and kept sleeping till after 9.

Yesterday I was consumed by anger at my apartment manager. I don't think I have ever disliked anyone as much as that old Japanese man, and just the same I don't think anyone has ever been as much of an asshole as he is to me. For some reason, ever since I came here he has always been either cold, or down right rude. Just the other day he scolded me for not turning a light off. A week before that I received a note on my door telling me to turn off my room fan when I leave.

I believe that when you are greeted by someone, you have a social obligation to return that greeting. When I tell someone "hi", they have a duty to respond. It is quite simple, this is a language game we English speakers play, it is simply unquestioned. What I dislike about the manager here is that he has never, ever responded to me even though I warmly greet him every time we cross paths. To me this is inexcusable. I hold a persons actions much higher than their intent. Intentionality is nothing to me, I judge actions and results. This old man is a failure in my view.

Feels good to get that out of my system.

A Peaceful Life

A Peaceful Life

I believe many problems and stresses I face every day, and that other people experience also, are mostly influenced by our modern lives. The constant, never ending roar of car engines blocks the soft sounds made by rain drops rolling off leaves onto the ground. The music exploding from our stereos drowns the chirp of the crickets. It is unfortunate that when I go outside, I cannot hear the leaves being tossed to and fro by the gentle night winds.

Our lives... the desire to constantly make money, the belief that our happiness is found in the things we buy, the places we go, the people we meet, are all roads leading to empty places. If happiness is something that must be obtained and possessed, then I say it can never be found. Happiness must be discovered, it cannot be bought and I fear that the sounds of our searching for it: the cars, the music, the parties, they are all killing the very thing we are all desperately searching for.

Is it any wonder that I feel truly alive when I am in the middle of a forest, completely away from cars and pavement, when I am away from cruel society which tells me who I should be and what I need to buy to be happy. I feel so bad that people, including myself often believe the message. This is one of the other reasons why I know I must devote my life to study and teaching. People must realize where reality is: it is buried, like a treasure underneath the large garbage pile of modern society.

I desire to hear raindrops, to watch wild life, to live a simple life free from the crazy headache of the city life.