When I Look Into Your Eyes, You’re Not Even There

[Just A Feeling – Maroon 5]

Having a glance over my most popular searches and blog views, it turns out that the post I made years back about Jack’s tutoring in Springvale still seems to get the most traffic. I went to his classes in Yr 12, and I remember in the first year of Uni I was actually emailing people his contact number, but then I changed my phone and lost his number, so I mostly ignored the messages asking me for his number after that.

Is that all I will be remembered for, after all the people who knew me properly are gone? Will the only thing linked to my name (of sorts) end up being my post about how a smart middle-aged man who taught me Maths made a kinda-pretty-sexist joke?

When I told my parents I wanted to be a writer, they said, “Are you going to write the next Harry Potter?”  No, this isn’t a post about the pressures my parents put on me (that’s for another, longer night), but more about why I don’t try! Why not try to write the next Harry Potter? It may sound really idealistic, but if I just went ahead and not did it, I would miss out on the chance that I may actually be able to do it! There are thousands of writers who write constantly (and incredibly well), only to fall flat and end up at a job that they never wanted, and I could well be one of them, but who is to say I’m also not one of the writers who get published and noticed?

And, if all else fails, I should probably write a fan-fiction of a hugely popular series, change things around, then BOOM a movie will be made within the year!

I just want myself to matter, to make some sort of remark in this world. Yes, in a hundred years, everyone who ever knew me would be dead, so who the hell cares? And even if I do go down in history the way household names such as Shakespeare, Einstein, or even Rowling did, the world is just a temporary tangible mound of atoms, and it’s still not going to matter once those atoms disperse. But still, it feels good to matter. It feels good now, whenever I watch or read something that a friend wrote, and it mentions my name or something I did, because it means that my actions had some impact on someone else, and that they were thinking of me at a point in time. So it would feel even better if something I did is attributed to an entire field of conversation, such as that I changed the way someone or someones think about an issue, or that I was the inspiration for future sources of inspirations. Then, it would feel infinitely better (even if I’m dead), when a hundred years from now, students complain about having to study me at school.

For now, I think I’ll strive for being an inspiration and turning point in someone’s life. I think if I can influence just one person, my time wouldn’t have been wasted.

Tomorrow I should be going out to eat a chicken wing buffet, so at least I can have something to talk about. I PROMISE I won’t write about myself tomorrow, at least.

Alex.

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Montage Every Memory

[Black Cat – Mayday Parade]

Sometimes I think about what it is that sparked a friendship between a friend and me. For the most part, the answer is simple: time spent together; close proximity; similar interests and/or personalities; completely different interests and personalities that somehow mesh together, etc. But then there are the weird ones.

For example, I would consider quite a few of my workmates friends, but that’s because I spend up to 20 hours with them on some weeks. The moment that one of them or I leave the workplace, I dare say there’d be little to no reason for us to maintain communication. But, it’s still nice to have them on my Facebook contact list to serve as a memory of times when you faced a shop full of hungry customers and no strawberries or ice-cream whatsoever.

Then, there are friends who would remain friends despite not having seen them for a long time. High school friends can fall either into this or the previous category. Perhaps I had a close-knit group in high school, but to this day, nearly four years after graduation, whenever there’s an event to celebrate, we still immediately count the same group in first, before anyone else. I suppose it helped that after graduation, three of that group ended up studying the same university undergrad for three more years. I can still name a few friends with whom I speak to once or twice a year at best, but I feel that I still am somehow connected to them during those times.

Also, you’d have friends who like the same things you do, and in all honesty you could possibly maintain an entire conversation based solely on those topics, and nothing else. I think Annie falls into all the previous three categories, having spent nearly 7 years together with me, enjoy the same TV shows I do and, now, after graduating university, we talk once or twice a month and those times only about TV shows. I’m not quite sure if she still lives at home or if she’s still at the telemarketing job, but boy do I know that she’s excited for the return of season premiers!

Finally, you have friends who you neither see often, nor not at all. Friends with whom you share some, but only few interests. Friends who, in all honesty, you’ve only made because they’re a friend of a friend’s. Then, as time went on, you realize you talk to them more and more, and even though you have almost no shared interests or experiences, you can still maintain some sort of continuous mundane conversation. I think that’s who Serena is (there, a second mention). I honestly and thoroughly enjoy my time with her, even when she’s completely disregarding every warning and advice I give her. Hell, I actually enjoy just watching her put on makeup in front of the computer.

That’s the kind of friendship that truly encapsulates the strangeness of human nature, where against all logic, a bond is still created.

I may have known Serena for almost longer than most of the people I talk to now (and not realized it), and I may spend most of my conversations with her telling her she stinks, but I do love her.

Alex.