June 2, 2004

• Wagamama

  You will never be happy if you continue to search for
  what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for
  the meaning of life.  – Albert Camus… taken from DarkPanda’s xanga site.

  Is there a profound importance in owning one’s experiences? Is it
  even possible to have “control” over one’s life in order to
  find a sense of identity through fleeting, yet life-altering, happy
  moments – hoarding it entirely to oneself like a leprechaun over his
  pot o’gold?

  The happiest moment in my life occurred on the steps leading to the
  dance floor of the “Funky Buddha Lounge” in Brighton, UK. I did a study
  abroad program
  my sophomore year of college at this beach town located on the southern
  coast of England. This particular happy moment concluded six months of
  carefree, drugged-up debauchery. It was a moment of
  clarity. Brighton rocked. And as my friends were swept away by the
  redolent sounds of music, drunken laughter, and youthful reverie that
  particular night, I savored the moment with silent praise. It was
  like one of those season finale’s on a melodramatic television
  drama where everything is in slow motion… the camera zooming in on
  the smiles of the supporting cast while the main character stands
  solitary, absorbing the scene with a voice over saying something like,
  “Those were the days.”

  Yes… I was that main character that stood on those sticky steps
  and inhaled the sights and sounds of youthful energy. Yet, instead of
  ending that particular season of my life with a cheesy, overly dramatic
  statement saturated with bittersweet brouhaha, I thought – in a Gollum
  sort of way – “This is mine. It’s all mine… and no one can
  rob me from this (precious) experience.”

  I’ve been trying to duplicate that feeling ever since.

  The Christian religions says that one should put God on their throne
  of life, while the individual should bow at His feet and allow life to
  continue on the path that
  has been already laid out. Hmm… been there, done that. For a time I
  attempted to live how “God” wanted me to. I was proud to have
  sacrificed myself to live a “pure” and “holy” life. When that didn’t
  work, I took charge and sat on my throne in life and found myself
  looking out into the world and its beautiful imperfections. I’m not
  saying that religion doesn’t have any merit. Sometimes I wish I could
  return to that frame of mind where I felt unconditional love and hope.
  It’s for some people, but just not for me. So… I decided to become
  selfish.

  According to Webster, it appears that the word selfish
  is a person who is “seeking or concentrating on one’s own advantage,
  pleasure, or well-being without regard for others.” Now, I wouldn’t say
  that I have complete disregard for others… especially since I’m a
  teacher that actually enjoys educating little runts. Yet… sometimes I
  wonder how much of a prick I am. I mean, the mere act
  of questioning whether I’m somewhat selfish most likely means
  that I am to some degree. Doing something selfish probably means free
  from most familial/social/contractual bindings. After all, I’m not
  little Zhao Zhexiao living in rural China selling chicken feet to
  support my family. At least I have the choice to be selfish… which probably means I’m doing a whole lotta thinking for no lotta reason. I digress.

  Perhaps this happy busines, for me, is having control over my own
  experiences to reap the benefits of its results because it’s a form of
  accomplishment. I admit, I’m anal – I fold my toilet paper
  for Pete’s sake (I must say I’m quite disappointed about my recent
  survey. I only got three proper responses and one racial slur).
  However, sometimes I feel that my “selfish” decisions make me a bad
  person. But aren’t we all, damnit?! So… here’s a question to y’all…
  How do you personally define happiness? Can happiness, in a way, be a
  selfish act? And, if you want, what was (one of your) happiest
  moment(s) in life?

  • 10:43 am
  • 11 Comments