Amendment

An entire season of Grey's Anatomy later, here I am sitting alone in my dorm room in the middle of London, looking around to see piles of books, a slew of papers in shambles covering every inch of my desk, and wisps of curly strands of hair in my peripheral vision and can only wonder, "What's the point?"

Sometimes it doesn't feel like anything that I do really matters that much. I work my ass off to get a really good grade for my paper and sometimes I do, other times I don't. I learn languages so that I can talk to different people in the world they understand and make sense of and derive truths and lies. I read books, books on politics, books on citizenship, books on music, novels, biographies, autobiographies, human anatomy, music compositions and cooking and baking and listen to podcasts from the BBC and the Economist. And I stop and wonder, "Why?"

My flatmate is being noisy as usual. I can't tell the difference between her squealing and screaming and when I think she's crying she turns out to be squealing in laughter and when I think she's laughing she is screaming in the middle of sex. He laughs and laughs and talks loudly. I get up from my desk chair to get out through the door, knock on her door, put on a half-casual, half-exhausted look to tell her, "I'm sorry, you've just got to keep it down, it's 1:30 in the morning." But I catch my blanket. And then I sit down, readjust my blanket, and wonder, "Why?" And now things are being thrown around next door. Should I go and tell them to be quieter? But then again, why should I, why would it matter?

I reflect on why I decided to study the topic that I do. Global politics. GLOBAL POLITICS! In London. At one of the best institutions in the world. Allegedly. With some of the smartest people in the world. Apparently. In London, one of the greatest, the most extraordinary, cosmopolitan cities humankind has developed over the course of its history. Supposedly. In THE most expensive cities in the world, known to humankind. Definitely. WHY?? In truth, it was partially a decision out of convenience, in a few ways. I didn't think I really knew what I wanted to do after being a pseudo-teacher for a year, and all I really knew was that I didn't want to stay in Tokyo. It was also convenient that the man I thought I loved and loved me would be in the same city. I had to pick from five offers, from three very good institutions. The best offer came from this school. So I made the decision.

But I was wrong. Wrong on a lot of different levels. Life, love and everything in this world - yes, everything - is what you try to make of it, and that trying is an important part of it all, but you don't have full control of what it becomes, and that, too, is also a very important aspect. Ourselves, this world, spelt W-O-R-L-D on the computer screen or handwritten on a piece of paper or in the form of a blue ball or clouds or a face. It doesn't exist. It doesn't exist. Because something that you thought was THAT could easily turn into something that barely resembles it as you remember it. The transformation, as well as its product, doesn't make it anymore fake or real, true or false. It changes, yes, and sometimes, if you're lucky - luck (which is not just a random force) is also important - you get to see all the great things it can do. Other times, you become a witness to the deepest, ugliest, most horrific reality you can barely imagine.

People do things for a reason. A reason that is clearly justifiable in their minds. At times a constructed justification, perhaps, but nonetheless justifiable and as long as it is justifiable, it is viable and it is one gleaming, very tangible reality. Things happen for a reason. A reason that you never find out until you do. And when you do, you tell yourself, or your friend tells you, "Oh well, I guess that's life." And then that reality is justifiable, too. Deaths, lives, pains, joys. Happinesses sadnesses jealousies wonderings hopings thinkings writings killings livings beginnings endings. All, justifiable. it's what we do. Justify. Why? Because we are taught to do so. We are raised to be strong, to move on, to live a life and dream, and that requires justifying. So we justify. Over and over and over again, oblivious to the remnants of our repeated justifications. Not that there's anything wrong with that, because we have to live. We have jobs. Essays to finish. Friends to hang out with. Kids to take care of. Food to procure. Diseases to cure. People to mourn about. People to love. Justifying. Every moment, every day.

And that's the world. A world like that has no 'fix'. A world like that has no 'cure'. People aren't meant to be eternally happy. They were not meant to be eternally unhappy. Some forms of perceived happiness, in fact, are unhappiness to others, and vice versa - this is a very well-known phenomenon. So there is no cure. Which is why I'm here.

So, an amendment to my new year's resolution: Focus. On nothing more than the barren reasons for my existence. Sans flair, sans emotion, sans life. Just, focus.