it’s quite disturbing. that thought — rather a fact, really — that everything i’m doing is for nothing. quite strange as well how it didn’t hit me before, not with that strength anyway — which makes no difference all in all. i had this little voice all the time that would always start long monologues on how great it is and how beautiful if you just take the time to notice and how lucky i am and how awesome my friends are and how incredible it is that i never thought i was something of a good photographer but hey, i am.. the voice would always rant about that and the truth is, i’d never argue with it, i’d say yeah right for the sake of it, while being secretly pleased about what it said, you know like, never admit to any voice inside your head that maybe they’re right.
now i guess i’d be really, i mean, really happy if it came back, it would consider everything, and find some meaning to everything and more and it would ponder and all in all, it would say that i’m okay and that it’s what i’m going to be. okay. yeah right. i suppose there has been a switch at some point and the voice came back and i had all my yeah right prepared, but when it started ranting, it was pretty much like live alone, die alone, don’t ask. yeah riiiiiiight. now what ?
how can anyone argue with that anyway ? you live, you die. period. and in between… nothing you do will change anything. i suppose that one can always say that since it is pointless, since all in all it’s just a lot of energy wasted for just nothing, better waste it in the best way possible.
i don’t think it’s a bad point, i don’t think that the pursuit of happiness isn’t a nice goal, if happiness exists that is, but i don’t think that it’s merely enough. you don’t bring you happiness with you when you die, you don’t bring your money either, or your fame, or your carrier, you don’t resurrect, you don’t go to paradise, you don’t reincarnate, you don’t bring your art either or your love, well, nothing happens there, you die, you’re forgotten, people are sad for a while and bingo. that’s about it for you. you can’t fly, you fool, the voice keeps saying (yeah, being desperate sort of doesn’t keep me from making geek references), and we all know that so i totally admire our instinct of survival, that stuff that make us wander and wander and grab life by the throat somehow, all the while prentending that we have a clue.
alright, maybe you do. me, i know i don’t.
and i know just how coward it may sound when i say that i don’t see a meaning in what i’m doing. but i’m usually not talking only about my pictures because if only one person finds some meaning into it, who am i to say it never had one ?
i’m talking about an overall meaning — that philosophical stuff on which some brilliant minds have spent their life thinking. not that they ever had a clue either. and i’m not a brilliant mind anyway.
but i mean, really, just one tiny little meaning would be more than enough to me, one little thing that does make sense, that does have a point. and if that’s still too much to ask, one good thing that actually lasts. love doesn’t, no kind of love does. life doesn’t, of course. happiness doesn’t really exist, so i’m not counting it. kids grow up and become immature adults like me, kitten die, forests are cut into paper on which they publish pictures before people throw them away, favorite jeans get holes on the butt, incredible songs are overplayed and lose their magic, a shutter snaps in 1/60 second, feeling good only feels so because it’s a nice change from the usual, bikes get stolen, relationships change, memories fade away, film is replaced by digital, awesome books always have a limited number of pages, people die, and well, love doesn’t last…
the only thing i’m not too sure about is beauty. you’d think that of course it’s always there no matter what. but is it really ? like does it wait for someone to see it, and appreciate it, and feel it, and be overwhelmed by it ? or it is only there when and because there is someone to see it and appreciate it and feel it and be overwhelmed by it ? like if noone noticed it, would it still exist ? does it merely exist because we the only kind of animal able to feel it ? then i suppose it just doesn’t last either.
and since it never had a point anyway, like its sole purpose was to be pointless, maybe it shouldn’t be that hard to understand why i feel like everything i’m doing is for nothing.
so all we’re doing is doing a lot of things, working and trying to love and trying to communicate and trying to hold on things and people and trying to make art and going to concerts and movies and watching tv and reading and listening to music and going home and going to work and buying a ton of things and praying some drunk gods, all the while pretending that we have a clue or worse, hoping that it will all make sense, eventually.
like i said, i do really admire our instinct of survival.
