3 May 2008

Quality of life

We all want "quality" in life. We're all guilty of aspiring to the finer things in our brief, fumbling existence on this globe. Whether it's in materialistic goods (a nice car or fancy technology), or on a deeper level (meaningful relationships, finding the perfect life-partner), wanting "the best" threatens to consume us all. It blinds us to the fortunes we already possess, whatever those may be.

We all want quality living and we convince ourselves that we deserve a quality life. But are we simply deluding ourselves about what we can really attain in life? When should we "settle" with what we have? How do we reconcile ourselves in accepting that the less than desirable facets of our lives may well be the best that we'll ever get? It's not easy. It requires a re-examination of our own sense of worth and a brutal acceptance that maybe we aren't as good as we think, or that those close to us tell us that we are.

Lately I've been ruing the fact that I haven't found a quality guy. Sure I get to fuck the (very) occasional guy, but it seems all I ever get is "quantity". My definition of quantity is someone who scores less than 5 (out of 10) on the looks scale, who may not be the greatest conversationalist or thinker, and who is not overall "put together"; basically the majority of single gays in Boston. A quality guy would be the opposite of course. Wherever I turn, it seems that quality is everywhere, but nowhere around me. Of course I want the smoking hot, at least semi-intelligent, unpretentious, passionate boy who is as keen about me as I them, but maybe it's time I re-evaluate my prospects and realise that the sexy, cute boy of my dreams may never materialise in my lifetime. This mentality is not about giving up the search for a quality partner, but rather, tempering my expectations with reality.

As the big three-zero looms on the horizon, the possibility of finding the ideal soul-mate becomes a frightening prospect. Maybe it's time to settle after all...

14 March 2008

A life of breaks

'Break' is such a useful word. I like it. It's a harsh and abrupt sounding word and not pleasant to say or hear, but still, I like it. It's short and to the point. It's a word that covers so many emotions, outcomes and actions. Look it up. Type "define: break" in Google and look at the definitions, there are many.

Even though Spring has yet to arrive temperature-wise, it's Spring break here in Boston. College students take this time to flee the months of nasty Winter by celebrating the end of class in exotic, sunny locations: Cancun, Mexico and the like. See, breaks can be good.

We all want to take, get, hope for a break in life. Breaks are the keys to success, happiness and new adventures, or so I've been told. I've had a parade of significant disappointments recently. "Give me a break" has become my new motto.

When breaks are bad, they can be devastating. To be broke, broken down on the side of the road, broken-hearted, or to have a break-up, are all very bad. The negative power of "break" is presented to us beautifully in Brokeback Mountatin, which is one of my favourite films. By telling the story of a tragic romance, the movie captures and distills the breaks, both rewarding and tragic, that we all share in life to expose some harsh realities of love and consequence.

Even in a seemingly bad context, breaks can be good. We say "Break a leg" to someone for good luck. Odd, huh?

Overall, we all cop our fair share of good and bad breaks. At the moment, I'm just hoping to break even in life.

9 March 2008

Le Petit Prince

The Little Prince (by Antoine de Saint-Exupery) is a kids book, of sorts. The book is illustrated and easy to read, but carries a profound message about love, innocence and self-discovery. The writing is simple and elegant, and the story is childishly captivating. It's a classic piece of literature that you must read! (You can finish it in one sitting). To really appreciate the beauty of the novel and its message, check out these SparkNotes.

Read The Little Prince and maybe you'll never look at the stars the same again.

21 January 2008

London Aeterna



Music: Lux Aeterna, by Clint Mansell