being in college brings a deferral of meaning and the big questions. life is centered around routines summarily imposed, tasks and homework done and enforced out of habit, and not to mention exams that provide some sort of terminus that one works towards every few months. on top of that, social activities buttress one’s life, participating in the act of meaning-making.
Only after starting work am I starting to think more deeply about questions of purpose, of the reasons for doing things and for finding things to do. While most people have a deep-seated fear of being alone, what I fear really is stagnation – the horrible sense of maudlin weekends rolling over to the next without change and utterly interminable, of meeting the same old tired people week after week talking about the same things, of doing the same trivial tasks at work with the self same smug sense of self-importance, of going to the same places, of thinking the same thoughts, of making the same claptrap jokes, rewatching of endless tv reruns online…etc.
which is why there is always a desperate need to seek new experiences and meet new people no? fear of the one and only, fear of the same.
To this, I have been resolving to read more and free my mind from the prison of bureaucratic discourses and groupthink, to play the guitar and let music bring joy, to visit new places, and to learn new things, whether it be things like programming to learning more about things i already know about. to put myself in situations of sheer and utter improbability. and lastly, to travel again.
which is probably why i have been haunted by a baudelaire poem i chanced a long time ago, sometime in college when i was surrounded by too many poems and books professing to comment on poems. consequently, it sounded painfully trite then. But now its stuck in my head, resonating and echoing like an alarm during unexpected moments of lucidity.
“You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it–it’s the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually
But on what?Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of
a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again,
drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything
that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is
singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and
wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you:”It is time to be
drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be
continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.”