An old friend recently told me she had had a crush on me for a long time. She also broke this news to two other of my close friends, and she then asked us why we hadn’t done anything about it. We can’t win at this game, can we? If we like a girl, it turns out they just want to be friends, and if we resolve to just be friends, it turns out they like us. I don’t develop crushes on my female friends out of respect, not disrespect.
Surfing Everything2.com’s archives, I came across something that made me stop in my tracks. “There is no post-game.” I sat and thought about this for a while, as I am rather prone to doing. How would you play differently, knowing that it was the last game of the season? How would you live, knowing you had no tomorrow? Invariably you play or act differently. My life is not a continuation of some chain of events; it is a unique experience that I must create. The meaning of life is not to be a good person, not to be a good father, or to be rich, although it can include all of those. The meaning of life is to play this great game as it should be played, to the fullest.
“If you are so patriotic, why didn’t you ever show it before? This is the exact, insane opposite of being a fair-weather fan. You only like your football teams when they do well, but only like your country when it’s bombed? You people are nuts!” – NYU Laura
The things you own, end up owning you. Hence, when you stole my car, and burned out in my driveway, the things I owned ended up owning me, causing me to irrationally punch you in the face. The unimportant material objects, mere tools, such as my laptop, become more important than they should, causing me to put a password on them. So if the things I own end up controlling my life, then why should I own them? All I’ve done thus far is punch my best friend, and piss off my brothers. But when I enter a mosh pit, and have nothing to lose but my consciousness, where the clothing I wear I don’t care about, the wallet is empty except for a license, and my keys are clipped onto my pants, then I am free.
A mosh pit is interesting because of the duel nature of the whole affair. The band is blasting music at unbelievable volumes into the crowd, and the pent up anger of a hundred young concert-goers is released in the form of various wrestling moves. But as soon as the hapless soul trips and falls, immediately, a complete reversal of the earlier mood occurs. People who had been trying as hard as possible to inflict pain on those around them stoop and help the fallen gently to their feet and ask them “Hey man, are you OK?” Mosh pits may be about releasing anger, but the anger is not directed at the other concert goers. Instead it is vented into thin air, with anonymous figures taking the brunt. So far it is the only place I have found where you can beat the shit out of someone and become friends because of it.