I wonder what life after death is like.
Life right now, in this reality is so jam-packed with stuff, from work to parks, music, movies, feelings, people, how can it always be like this? It can’t. It will be unified one day. So, what’s it like later? Will we remember all this? Will we meet again? Will I ever relive those 69 days I spent at 23 years of age recording thoughts in a blog? Or is this it? Our time is running out, dear reader. We’ve been together for 51 days now, and we’ve got about 18 left. Can you believe it? Like a real-life couple, we’re moving toward our expiration date.
Will we remember the painful parts then, the everyday stressful parts?
I saw Truffaut’s Small Change tonight, a movie about children. Scene after scene of childhood moments made it a beautiful and poignant and enlightening experience all at the same time. And a stressful recollection of the first part of existence. The movie takes place in France, so it reminded me so much of my own childhood — the desks, the teachers, the hills, small shops, smaller apartments, the punishments.
And by the end of the teacher’s fiery monologue toward the end of the movie, tears streamed down my cheeks. “Kids that don’t get love turn their love to other people and things.”
That young 12-year-old delinquent who was beaten at home day in and day out will struggle with the concept for another few decades for sure. And then? And then what happens?
How come children never think of the future?