Yes, I’m sitting here in the glow of a five-dollar lamp waiting for my editing computer to finish copying my 60+ gigabytes of video footage and projects to another hard drive; so that I can fix the bad sectors on the drive they’re on.
If that was too technical for you, then be glad that you’re living a life of blissful ignorance in respect to us tech geeks. Some of us are offended when people don’t know something we consider to be obvious – I myself am amazed when people don’t understand disk defragmentation (I mean, come on!) – but a life that doesn’t know about computer technology to its fullest is a better one. Why?
Because when you know too much about computers, you tend to tinker with and possibly break your own computer in the process. It’s the tech guy’s burden.
But I find my affinity to computers, and to video, and to blogging, and to all that good stuff – to be the substance of life, in a sense. In other words, these are trades and hobbies and jobs that keep a mind occupied, that save it from the heartbreaking task that is thinking about all that which is not physically existent, straightforward, and ultimately black and white – about emotions, about choices, about personality, about oneself.
Having something to believe in that isn’t the love of a woman, or the friendship of a colleague; having something to believe in that is defined by your terms, having something to believe in that is tangible and not abstract – is beautiful, because unlike people and emotions, they never go away until you don’t want them anymore. Whenever I see artists striving to perfect every last detail on their latest masterpiece, whenever I see musicians fingering their saxophone solo on the bus, whenever I see math lovers crunching numbers and pretending to rip off their hairs as they struggle to find the missing coefficient – whenever I see that, I see souls that with direction, I see people that do not doubt the validity of their friendships, that do not dwell on the significance of how the person they like talked to them this morning at school, of how they should’ve reacted when the random girl in the hallway gave them flowers, of whether their friends’ negative, but unbelievably true comments about their work ethic were truly out of love and care; of whether their 5th period class really did like their latest paintings.
I see people blinded by honest, working obsession to their trade. I see strong-willed people guided by the wise hand of their passion; I see people unmoved by the turmoil of thought that keeps the Thinker thinking.
I see what I want to be; sometimes.