Bookmark #159

I’m often asked why I take things so seriously? Why do I try to find the only song that could fit on a moment? Why do I run around finding the best bits to make a story that I personally believe in? Why do I require everything to be wrapped up so neatly towards the end? Why do I continuously try to close the loop? Why do I look at life in not years but journeys and arcs?

I have just one thing to say about that: why not?

You see, life is terrible and painful for each person. God is dead, if there ever was such a thing, but I don’t think that was ever the case. The point is that it’s all probably pointless. We enter here without a say or choice or volition of our own, and then we’re supposed to carry on? How are we supposed to do that, and why?

So, when everything is pointless, and nothing makes sense, I find a narrative. I find a tune that goes so well with my closing the door on an empty apartment that it has to fit. It would be unjust for it to not do that.

I look at things as if I was lost in a daze—staring—as if I didn’t belong in the scene and was put there, because I was, and all of us were. So, it only makes sense to look at all this as a story someone else wrote. Aren’t we just characters in an epic anthology?

I imagine montages of my friends doing whatever they do when I’m walking outside. It plays like a movie in my head. Me making coffee has to be so precise that it demands to be on canvas. There’s no other way.

That’s what life is all about. There’s nothing else. You do things. You do things well. You make sure you value those things. This is my way of valuing them: I romanticise the fuck out of everything.

I don’t change cities; I go through a journey of transformation. I don’t get my heart broken; I get on a rollercoaster of change. I don’t pack; I selectively leave things which aren’t a part of who I am anymore behind. That’s who I am, and who I’ll be going forward.

My life is my art, and it is for my eyes only. Everything you see is an interpretation. The true piece, the honest work, the magnum opus is in my head: safe and sound.

That’s the only thing I have that I specifically chose in this life, and I’m never going to give it away.