what words mean to me

posted Sunday, Jul 30 9:38 am

I was having a casual discussion with a friend lately about why reading has been such an important part of my life. And I'm talking about reading books - literature, be it classic, modern, or contemporary. Good writers always manage to string together apparently simplistic words together to form the deepest and most provocative meanings. When reading a piece by a somewhat talented writer, I not only see the world through his/her eyes, but also relate the content of his story back to my life, and re-interpret them based on my personal experiences. While words possess denotative meanings, and a story often has its own moral value or intention, what one derives from the story I feel, is still a pretty subjective affair. So then one may fall in love with a piece of literature because the way the words are put together echo the thoughts and/or emotions of the reader.

Spent the weekend finishing up this book by Mil MIllington, "love and other near death experiences." Like I told my friends, this is a sardonic book full of dark humour. The story tells of a man's quest for self-discovery, the search for the meaning of life, and essentially, the search for life's hapiness. Of course, this is barely scratching the surface. The personal enjoyment I derived from the book is seeing bits and pieces of myself through these characters. I see through them the moments of depression, self-questioning, delusions, hopelessness that taint my otherwise joyful personality and positive outlook of life. The search for something, that essential something that I know is still somehow missing from my life; the longing for solutions, answers...they are all there.

Then I came to the end of the book, and was struck by this particular paragraph:
"The annoying thing about time is that it takes time...but no amount of it is too long to wait throughwhen you're waiting to be sure. However much we might believe, and wish, it were true, you can't really be sure of what you feel however intensely and seriously and constantly you examine your thoughts and emotions. You can be really sure only by forcing yourself to wait: time alone can tell you what will last."
Voila, the closest thing to an answer I was looking for.

I'm sure those of you who are reading this entry and actually managed to survive up to this point, would be slightly confused as to why this seem to the painfully obvious answer to my problem/question.

It's simple really. It's love. Sometimes love makes one feel unsure - unsure about a whole range of things. Worse still, at times, even unsure of the love itself; of what love is, what love really means, and what love entails. How should true love make one feel/act? How could one be sure? But questions questions questions - if I don't stop questioning, how would I be able to feel free to enjoy what I have? While searching for an answer, I might be missing the entire process. While focusing too much on a solution or a destination, I miss out on the enjoyment of the journey, which really should be the focus of my life right now. After all, I've always told myself that it's the journey that's important for me. Not just in love, but in everything else. For who knows what will happen tomorrow? No one can decide what will happen tomorrow, but today is in our hands.

So again, the answer is time. Examining thoughts and emotions boil down to simple logic - cold hard facts. But with a lot of things, relying on logic isn't the way. Better let things unfold themselves, then deal with them as they come.

Sometimes I'm amazed at how much words, written and spoken can affect me. They can salvage me from bad situations; yet they are equally capable of destroying me. Maybe if I were less of a drama queen and more of an airheaded reader of COSMO...life will be a much simpler ride. ;)