So, basically, I have just experienced this Something. I think you could classify it under epiphany, but it doesn't really suit the feeling. Still.
(It's the 24th of April, 2013, just for the record.)
So, I just finished another John Green book (my third; first being The Fault in Our Stars, second being Looking For Alaska), and it was, as typical John Green books are, very awe-spiring and bringing-revelations. Because there's always this thing about life, at least, for me, which he manages to phrase perfectly for me.
Anyway. I've just finished 'An Abundance of Katherines', which, as the title suggests, is about a lot of Katherines, and their signifigance in the story. Which, yeah, they do have. And watched a pretty dramatic episode of One Tree Hill, which is, right now, on a whole rerun on Star World, so I've started following the nightly episodes.
So I was quite chocked up with feels (to put it in a pretty un-grammatical way), and I was on that miniature-high that you get when you have that psychological adrenaline rush when tense moments build up, or whatever. And I just asked my sister Kylie, "If you could go skydiving, would you?"
And she replied, "Actually, I was just thinking about that today."
(We end up doing that a lot.)
"Hm?" I asked, collecting my hair in to a messy bun in my old, pink-fluff-edged-heart-shaped mirror, and then letting it lose.
"And yeah, I definitely would."
I turned to face her after peering at her bent head in the mirror. "Why?" I asked blankly.
Because I've always been pretty terrified of skydiving. You are quite literally plummeting to your inevitable death, except you narrowly escape the destruction of your personhood by a flimsy piece of cloth and strings. And I know that's not really how most would describe it, but each to his/her own, right?
"Because I really want to fly, and that's the closest I'll ever get," Kylie replied, doodling on her daily planner.
That made no sense - at least, to me. "So you think that plummeting to your death... is the closest you'll get... to flying," I repeated slowly, wondering how truly wrong and wrongly true it seemed.
"Stay up, float, whatever," Kylie said dismissively, while I wandered past her, twisting my hair in to a bun. I do that a lot while I think. "But it wouldn't feel like falling, would it? You'd feel... suspended."
And then I had my epiphany-slash-whatever-else-fits-more-appropriately-to-the-sound-of-the-word.
(John Green-ness rubbed off on me?)
We all want to achieve something, something... grand.
We all want to do something like skydive, or have our own 15 minutes of fame (usually, longer). We want to be singers, or dancers, or models. We want to be successful scientists and win Nobel prizes. Or mathematicians and win prizes-that-are-equivalent-to-Nobel-prizes-for-mathematics. Or we want to have one of the world's greatest Eureka! moments. (An Abundance of Katherines reference.)
We all kind of want to do something which we feel is worthwhile.
But honestly, whatever happened to being.... people?
Whatever happened to living just to live a good person, instead of a good life?
Doing all these things won't make you a better person.
I just read this short story in class; "Raymond's Run". And the main girl, Squeaky, notes how we all have better things to do then pretend to be flowers and strawberries and fairies (for a play), like being people.
We are people.
So why don't we act like them?