I am going through memorabilia from when I was 16. I remember how I tried to understand the world, and how it could work for me. I tried to figure out my place in it. Did I think I would be where I am now? I watched 25th Hour last night. Am I in the 62nd percentile? I don't have money, but I play guitar.
I grew up a bright kid; top of the class all through primary school. Did I approach my adolescence with vanity and arrogance? Acne made sure that was only half true. A bright arrogant kid with acne, trying to make his way in the world. Maybe if I weren't such a cowboy, I would have done a few things differently.
Until I get a camera, I'll describe what I see outside my window. In the three weeks that she came over we never really sat and just looked out the window. No, it's not very important, but now that I pull up the blinds and take in the view: it's a magnificent sight.
The building on the left has 60 floors, 210 windows, and 400 people each with his or her own individual life with its dreams and disappointments. If each of these windows were televisions baring the life movie of the people behind them, would we find that most of the movies were the same? Is my movie the same as someone else's in this building? Or would we find that each of these 400 people are unique in every way?
I wonder if someone is watching my window imagining what the rest of my life must look like. If I really had watched Punch Drunk Love, whose poster hangs on my wall. Or if I read any of the books that are on my shelf. Is Xanga like a window? Or is it in fact a mirror, in which we read the people whose movies are exactly like ours?