what if everything you feel is exactly what you need to
the couch is warm. very warm.
dim, amber lighting and a bright blue screen envelopes my prickly skin in a web of scattered, multicolored light.
and just an inch of two from my leg, a guinea pig. a beautiful furball who squeaks and squeals and shit everywhere.
adorable.
oh, and 5 hours earlier, i put a tiny slip of acid-dipped paper in my mouth.
and it was hitting. very, very much so hitting.
naturally, after a long walk in the woods and staring at clouds, the only reasonable thing to do as my friends said goodbye and “have a nice trip” is to sit alone, in my basement, at 10PM, and watch my favorite show.
the midnight gospel is a masterpiece.
we’ll look back on that show in 10, 20, or 50 years from now with awe how forward thinking it was.
taking a podcast, cutting up the best segments, and animating to the dialogue.
genius i say, genius. one particular moment stands out.
the main character is talking to his mother. his dying-of-cancer-mother who consoles her son in the last stretch of her life. his dying-of-cancer mother who comforts and consoles her child who cannot deal with the pain of losing someone he cares for so deeply.
and after some comforting words and a metaphorical class of hot tea, he says, “well, what if everything you’re feeling right now is exactly what you need to feel?”
“ what if all the running away was useless and silly, and all you really needed to do was sit, and feel, and wake up the next morning and continue you’re life. what if?”
and as i was tripping balls, that hit me. it really fucking hit me.
my neurons rewired at the ring of that line. i felt the synapses firing and action potentials traveling down hundreds of miles of axons, tiny electrical charges jumping in my brain as Glutamate spiked its second messenger proteins.
and as i write this, 3 years after that funny old trip, i still feel the same wonder.
you see, im an emotional wreck.
kinda. that’s a little dramatic. but not far from the truth.
i feel very deeply. i think that’s why ive always had an affinity for playing music and writing poems. cinema also strikes a deep chord, but not to the same degree. there’s something about the subjectivity that a poem or song brings to me that moves me to tears, and it’s also why lonely walks late at night or the debilitating weight of existential life uncertainty hurts so deep.
i cant run from my emotions. i really really cant.
im turning that into a superpower, making films and writing stories, so i dont wish my life was any other way.
but truthfuly, my dear stranger on the internet, i feel a little…sad right now.
a little bleh.
a bit of “ujghbojsf”
a spot of grayness in my life
because im single. and im graduating from college in a week and all my close friends are saying goodbye. and i currently dont have a job lined up and the mere thought of moving back in with my parents is a devastation. and my bank account isn’t looking so good. and truthfully im uncertain if ill ever find someone i can pour all my love and care and attention into because FUCK MAN my friends are all in relationships and i just got dumped because a girl said “she liked me too much” and didnt want to get emotionally hurt because she know’s id be leaving in a month.
so yeah.
fuck.
but even with all that baggage, i tell myself something.
maybe this 10:45pm-vomit-of-emotions-and-ideas-and-words-that-go-into-the-internet-void isn’t all that important. or rather, it’s supremely important. because whatever im feeling right now is exactly what i need to be feeling.
perhaps this moment will pop up in my memory as i spend a night with the person of my dreams in a few months from now.
perhaps this moment will echo in my head as i cook dinner for friends and open a bottle of wine listening to wonderful music in my house 10 years from today.
perhaps this moment will find its way into my brain as i look at myself in the mirror, smiling at my child who’s shit i gladly wipe from their ass.
perhaps this moment is just a moment in time. a mere snapshot of life, as valuable as the laughs i have, the tears i cry, and the shouts of glee i will scream.
these emotions, though heavy and hard to bear, are a gift.
so i will gladly accept them.
and by the way, they dont come with a return receipt, so i guess acceptance is easier than just stuffing them in some drawer of shit in the dark corner of my closet.
thx.
bye.
<3
- armaan