It’s Nice to be Alive

July 24, 2012

After my run today, I sat on the planter ledge as I untied my shoes, closed my eyes, spaced out from exhaustion, listened to my music for a few seconds, and felt at peace for the first time in a few weeks.  I’ve had similar feelings like this in the past where I attempt to stop and take in the moment around me.  And whenever I feel particularly shitty, I try to recall those moments.  Most of the times, it doesn’t help at all.  But, it makes me happy to know that I was happy, which counts for something, if not to just take my mind off of the shitty present feelings.  Here’s a list of instances where I am–quite frankly–happy to be alive at that exact moment in time enjoying whatever it is that’s going on.

• walking back to my dorm in college under all the trees, taking a deep breath, and feeling the beach breeze flow through my fingers
• sitting on the park bench alone in Milan a few hours after I arrived in the city; it was the day after Christmas with very little people there, and my first time alone in a foreign country
• that one time I went surfing at Black’s beach and the waves were absolute shit because the water was very calm, and I laid on the surfboard for a while floating around and enjoying warm sun and cool water
• walking down towards Black’s beach and sitting on the side of the cliff in otherwise pitch black were it not for the moon, and smoking with my college buddies, and talking in the movie trailer guy voice
• sitting on the beach to the left of the pier at Huntington Beach after a run along the water and waiting for the sun to set
• driving home from school at 2-3am in the morning with absolutely no one else on the small highway (and occasionally driving with my eyes closed for 4-5 seconds on the straightaways)

Most of these are from college.  That’s where I started to try and appreciate the little things a little more, after all.  There’s probably a bunch of little one-off things I’ve experienced here and there since, but nothing to write home about.  I would pretty much say, though, that the entire Italy trip was literally a giant list of this kind of shit, like some kind of Sofia Coppola movie or something.  That’s probably why I like her movies (the ones I’ve watched anyways).  It’s pretty much just acknowledging the characters’ existence and making you (and the character) wonder what the hell the purpose is of their situation (and of the movie, really).  Sometimes, you realize that this shit is actually kind of nice.

Pretty lame post, I realize now that I actually spent the 15 minutes to type it out.  But I figure any happy topic I can write about is worth cataloging, and would be a welcomed addition for whoever actually reads all this depressing shit I typically rant.   Props to me for being able to tie in the Sofia Coppola reference; I feel so learned and cultured, like I’m bullshitting for one of my film class papers in college.  Knowing me, I probably completely missed the point on her movies and am talking about the wrong thing haha.

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