on novelty

It's funny how jaded people can become with time. Or disillusioned. When I was 13, a walk around my neighborhood on a crisp fall afternoon with a Discman (I think these were pre-iPod days) full of good music was all I really needed to be happy. And when I was 16, a Friday night drive in the summer with the windows down and music up sufficed (for the most part). Looking back now, life seemed so simple then, mainly because I didn't know anything yet. I tolerated my family; I hated school; I loved music; and I just wanted to hang out with my friends. I don't know when things got so complicated and how I experienced so much that anything could trigger nostalgia or painful memories. It seems like anything that reminds me of the past either forces me into a wistful haze, leaving me wanting to go back to another time; or it forces me to relive an experience so unpleasant that I just want to forget it ever happened. It shouldn't be so difficult to be happy in the present -- to bask in the here and now. I think a lot of it has to do with desensitization as people grow older; the more people experience a certain feeling or event, the more they take it for granted and it loses its novelty.

I can't say I want to go back to a time when I was happy because I didn't know any better. Instead, I just want to appreciate things for what they're really worth. And I want to experience that novelty again; but this time, I'll hold onto it for a little while longer.