Old Draft revisited

This is an old uncompleted draft revisited and completed

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What do people do when they’re bored at home?

I just spent the entire day at home. I’ve got to say it was mostly a waste of a day. the morning started off with corndogs in the microwave. Yes, the oven makes them taste 3 times better, but it takes nearly 10 times longer and when you’re hungry, nothing matters. Anyway, after that, I chomped down a peach to wash down the corndog batter grease clogging at my throat. For a moment, I wondered what they put into batter so that grease rubs off on my fingers when I touch the batter, then I decided not to explore that thought.

And when that was done, it was lounging in front of the computer. A movie. Few episodes of a sitcom. Youtube clips. Blogs. Facebook. Email. More youtube clips. round and round. All of these things were mere distractions. I couldn’t sit still. Throughout the day, I found myself pacing back and forth in the room, up and down the stairs, circling the living room, in and out of the house, more restless than ever. My mother looked at me with confusion and suspicion in her eyes as she lifted a spoon of fermented bean soup from her bowl. “Go out or something” she said. “Go out where?” I thought. It was one of those days where all your friends were out doing something. I was getting annoyed at having nothing to do at home, but didn’t want to go out either. What do you do when you’ve got nothing to do and nothing you want to do? I was reaching the peak of boredom, and couldn’t bear much longer.

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I dug through  my dresser drawer. The handle was evidently dusty. I took a look at elementary school yearbooks, notes and letters from kids I knew in Korea, all my parking tickets I kept for no reason, love notes, prom pictures, all things I hadn’t seen in a long time.

I had sent letters to classmates in Korea from El Paso, Texas, soon after I immigrated. I tried to revisit the blurred memory of my final day of school in Korea. I remembered I left a love note for a girl in between stacks of homework on the teacher’s desk, but I couldn’t remember what she looked like. I remember reciting the English word “Apple”, but I couldn’t remember what I sounded like.  Strange how memories disappear. It’s like a part of me is gone. Anyway, they mailed me back within a month. It’s those letters I found in my drawer. Through the letters, I re-learned the name of my 3rd grade teacher from Korea. There was also a picture of a girl whose name and face I didn’t recognize, and a note, written in childish scribbles, expressing hopes that I do well in the States. Another letter was of admiration as I was a good presenter who spoke up when teachers asked questions, and yet another letter apologized for bullying me. I don’t remember any of  it. I don’t remember presenting in class. I don’t remember getting bullied, what the fuck? Actually, I do recall getting punked by a 4th or 5th grader when I was in 1st or 2nd grade but the letter couldn’t possibly be from him.  And it didnt help that half of them didn’t write their names in their letters either. I never bothered to reply to any of them. I wish I had. I don’t have contact with anyone from Korea aside from my aunts and uncles, with whom I speak with maybe once every 2 years or so. and those were the first 10 years of my life.

I also took a look at my elementary school yearbook. There was a little section on there where I wrote my favorite things, books, songs, website, subject, movie, band, celebrity, whatever. My favorite celebrities were wrestlers triple H and the Rock. You remember triple H? He was a bad guy. Anyway, Eminem was my favorite band (nevermind that Eminem is not a band, I was a kid and kids don’t give a damn) and “None” was my favorite subject. www.Iwin.com was my favorite website. My best friends then are now people I don’t see or hear from, or even think about. It was a trip down memory lane, and at the same time, an unsettling first visit. It got me thinking about time. Again.

Time really doesn’t stop for anything, I know. I think about that sometimes, usually during my heavier moods. All my joys and woes are belittled by it. I feel wonderful and alive, and then I wonder, what’s it matter to anyone in a thousand years? Perhaps we can relate to our parents or mentors, for those who had had the privilege to be know them. We can relate to them as we grow older and learn! And the appreciation for the little things as we learn: what happiness is? and what love is? and what pain is? We are able to relate. I think that is mind-blowing! Extraordinary, for you to genuinely sympathize with a friend as he tells you how rough it is for him. Or for you to be glowing giddily in exuberance and excitement when your longest friend finally finds a job. Their emotion is transferred to us. That’s amazing and that’s the greatness of life. I like to think about things like this. At times I have epiphanies. I think about the way I should act or think, how to be a better person, how to live a better life, or sometimes I reason myself into thinking things are not as bad as they seem, or that things are great and that life is wonderful. Cause it is. It really is.

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It’s an abstract concept, Time. To us, it’s a given and a constraint. It’s something we accept as is without second thought. Of course time goes on. Of course you can’t go back. Life goes on, the past is gone, you move on. You snooze you lose. Tell me something new or I’m thru. Time is the subject of a hundred wise quotes. “Know how to live the time that is given to you”. “Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them”. “Waste your money and you’re out of money. Waste your time and you’re out of life.”.  Quotes about time are hard-hitting. Really, it’s talking about mortality. It’s a reminder for us to live life to the fullest, but it takes only one twisted thought to for us to despair.

And despair has weight to it. I’m going to peer in from the other side.

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Why does it even matter?

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Why does anything matter?

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No matter what you do, time will erase you.

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Never mind that your flesh will turn to soil. A thousand years later, no one will remember you.

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Everyone who ever knows you will be dead. It’ll be like you never lived.

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Do you know your great grandparents? You do?

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How about their great grand parents? And theirs and theirs?

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Do you care about them? You do?

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Do you think your neighbor cares about your great great great grand parents? Do you care about theirs? The lives they had? Their trials and difficulties and their greatest moments?

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What does it matter to you? You tell yourself that you care and say you do, but you just want your own life to be better. You do charity because it feels good. People will like you or hate you, but ultimately, they’ll forget. You and me both. All the wrong and evil I do, no one will remember. All the grace and good you’ve done, no one will know.

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That’s what time is. It’s an unstoppable cosmic eraser.

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And back to reality. He has a point. A damn good one too. We’re enveloped in our own immediate surrounding, aren’t we?. We’ve got to watch the latest movie that came out. And listen to the new track that’ll blow your mind. We’ve got to attend the funnest parties. We’ve got to hang around the coolest people. We’ve got to. We’ve got to. And then 10 years later, I look back at my past and I don’t remember triple H. I don’t remember listening to Eminem. I remember that my family was torn apart and being lost and how long it’s taking me to get over it. I don’t remember what movie I went to go watch with my friends 10 years ago or what parties we went to. I remember that the true friends were there before and they still are. And really, my great great great great sons aren’t going to care about all this. I won’t matter to them. They will care about themselves, their family, and their lives. And that’s ok.

That’s the trick. Believing “That’s OK”. You know, it’s ok that we’re going to be forgotten. The 100th generation ahead of us will call us as “ancestors” or “forefathers” and have no idea what kind of lives we lived or what sort of world we lived in. And so what? Just live your life the best you can. Yea, you’ll be forgotten in the future. Yes, all the difference you’ve made in other peoples lives won’t matter. Your heartbreaks and woes and achievements and disappear like a dream. In the future though. That’s in the future. Not now. Now, it’s the time for us. So face your demons. Find your angels. Know what matters to you and set your priorities straight and live. All those wise wisdom quotes, they’re all fuckin true. I’m having the same thoughts over and over aren’t I, and I’m wrapping this up too fast. I just wanted to remind you and myself that ‘everything is ok.’ That’s why I sit and think about shit like this, ye know? Cause for some inexplicable blessed reason, I always come to the conclusion that life is good, love and peace is all around me, and that I’m fine and things are going to be ok, and I always believe it like a dumbass. And you should too. Everything’s alright, so have a good morning and do your thing.