As much as I'd tried to go to sleep, I began to ponder upon the choices ahead of me, the choices that will very much affect the future I am to live. Why would I, Leslie, start to think of such things instead of saying "Fuck it"? The answer is quite simple. Someone told me.
Questions have always pervaded my mind and the answers always unattainable. The reasons for both never dawned on me despite my want to know them, to know everything. Thus, I began to seek the answers from others. I wanted to know. And this curiosity, as many would attest, is the demise of many. The idea that there are different types of knowledge is common from the classic intellectual curiosity so praised by the intelligentsia to the gossip so sought after by the common-folk. The information I wanted is nestled in the middle of these two extremes, fitting in no category.
Where exactly can "everything" go under? I wanted to explore life, to know what was ahead, the significance of history, just everything. By that vague term, I do not mean that my want is to be a genius or the center of the latest chatter. It was to know life, to understand it, and to understand what it was like to actually undertake it.
And this goal was not to be achieved and my curiosity left dissatisfied had thoughts of death and pain continued. Admittedly though, such thoughts are very hard to remove from one's psyche once they have entered. It may always, though unproven, remain rampant in the person's mind. But that is something that she must deal with the rest of her life. That is something I must deal with for the rest of mine. Instead of choosing the ultimate cessation of pain (the "relief" granted by the lack of the ability to feel it via death; ironic, is it not?), it only seems wise to consider all other options out there.
Though from my standpoint they may not seem favorable, there always seems to be way to climb out of the shadows. And now I'm beginning to sound like an idealist and foolish optimist. THAT is something I've always wanted to avoid. But despite my want to remain a realist (or hell, even a pessimist), I won't deny that the realization of other choices available for me will help in the future.
Moping about the what-ifs, and the coulda-woulda-shouldas will not get anyone anywhere. A common tale relayed by the ever-hopefuls and romantics (yet paraphrased in my normal harsh tone), it may prove beneficial to all despite the sugar-coated phrases surrounding it.
And with that, I really need to get some sleep. Buona notte.
Another Day In Paradise
©2007 ~Vladm
