A friend of mine, Arnie, came up with a homework assignment for me last night. Being the bored mess that I am, I took his homework challenge, which was listed at my Xanga blog. After rereading it, I decided to post my response here as well. I like what I've written, even if it's not very organized or deep. Besides, it makes up for my lack of content, which has recently hit this diary.
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Arnie's Homework
Homework Part 1: How does the trainspotting quote (see your May 14 entry) make you feel. Describe your emotional response as well as you can.
"Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that?" -Trainspotting
Alisha's Response
I am given so many choices for every day that I wake up, alive and breathing. Should I choose the wrong choice (whether it really be wrong or not), I will be criticized. "Alisha, you chose white socks instead of blue? My God, you're throwing your life away!"
But am I really?
Is it so bad to make the wrong choice, to walk around with those dreadful white socks on?
Everything that I've done, am doing, and will eventually do, will lead to one thing and one thing only: death.
Because I know this and because I don't walk through my life blindly, I have to ask myself: Is this what I really want? Do I really want to do what everyone says I should? Do I need to use the same guidelines as my associates to live out a decent life?
That question, the last one, causes me to wonder: These guidelines, what are they supposed to lead me to? I think that they're here to lead me to the wealth my mom has always dreamed of, the job my mema always wanted me to have, and the unhappiness that I collectively dread.
So, should I follow these guidelines, live my life like everyone else, and die at an old age which may leave me unable (or barely able) to care for myself; in an old age which may bring about the money I've always thought I wanted, and the bad hip and twice operated back which leaves me barely able to move? Is that what I really want?
No, it's not.
I want to live my life as I see fit. I just want to live. I don't want to be a slave to a job which will never appreciate me. I don't want to get married or have kids. I don't want to be restrained or restricted. I want to show all of my emotions, not have to control or hide them for the sake of others. I want to be able to use my youth as a time of travel, while I'm still able to walk; a time of learning, while I still have time to put my knowledge to use; to not be like the people that I'm surrounded by, whose most intelligent question is "Did you watch Popstars last night?"
I want to chose to live how I want, which might not fit into the guidelines most other people use. I want to chose an early death (say...sixty-ish), instead of hanging around, trapped by once-functioning body parts.
And that, my friend, is what I think and feel whenever I read or hear the above quote.
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