Do we buy ourselves?

The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it.
-Morrie tuesdays with Morrie

Staring at my stippled white plaster wall, my body expands and collapses eith every new breathe. I stop.

Its Sunday. Two weeks have passed already. The year is about to start its last quarter. Damn what have I done so far?

Yesterday was quite a relaxing day to be honest. The second adrenaline filled week of school finally calmed down. No more random, stressed and already sleep deprived students were deperately attempring to crash already packed classrooms. The varying department offices didn’t spew out lines of students with brightly colored add/drop slips ready to be finalized. The storm had passed in terms of ‘firsts and beginnings’ now it was time to prepare for the whole season.

Last night was the glorified and overly hyped face breaking event : Mayweather VS Alveriez.

I like boxing. I used to box myself when I could no longer compete in Tae Kwon Do tournaments due to tearing both my Achilles tendons. My roomie and I had started our morning buy eatting the left over dinner I had birthed. A sundried tomatoe pesto pasta sprinkped with some crunchy vegetables and home made orange chicken. I gotta say, both came out pretty damn good. I made enough for maybe 4-5 people but my roomie for two. Its mind blowing how such a tiny person can vorasciously devour all that food.

The smell of the microve nuked food filled our apartment, still potently fragant like it was the night before. I made my tea and Aimee got a cup of apple juice. We sat together at the table and savored our breakfest. We speculated as to what we should do for the day. She hadnt gotten any homework or assignments that sucked the time’s life like I did but I did need to take a breather. Suddenly the sound of a bass and a Wiz Kalifa  song could be faintly heard through the walls. Aimee and I looked at eachother confused. I began to shake my head. I suspected it was our neighbors diagonally across since our other neighbors kept to themselves most of the time, remaining hidden inside their apartments.

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I had to go to the store to get cookie dough and every where you went, you couldn’t go a minute without someone talking about the match that night. Bets were being made. The shit talking ensued. The grocery stores pumped with alcohol drinkers trying to get their party supplies. Its like they were prepping for a mini Superbowl.

How can someone consume THAT much alcohol and not have something wrong with them? (Nothing wrong with drinking but in moderation. My alcoholic indulgence would be wine)

When I got home Aimee had finished washing the dishes and had completed her weekly/bi-weekly routine of sanitizing  the apartment. Oh the beautiful smell of Febreze covered bleach! I set out the cookie dough on the counter to thaw a little and proceeded to the bathroom.

So, cut and color today right? She nods

Its funny, as I was teaching my roomie how to dye her hair for the first time, I could shake the image of the frenzied spectators I saw at the stores. Inly during a ‘major’ sporting event do you see men being extremely meticulous with their groceries. I look over to my roomie attempting to saturate her hair with the black dye with staining herself. It feels like we’ve known each other forever despite the reality of our relationship. We walked around shamlessly with plastic bags wrapped around our colored hair and began our cookie making. The plastic bags were soon replaced with towel turbans. The freshly baked chocolate chip cookies seemed to illuminate on the plate they were resting on to cool. Once these morsals were ready to be devoured, we popped in a movie, Coraline and proceeded to indulge.

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It was probably around 9 when I packed my things to head to the school to finish some assignments. The boxing match was in full swing and you could hear our neighbors obnoxiously hollaring cheers and bashing who they considered their oppenent. The school was in a frenzied state of its own. I had forgotten that last night was our schools first football game of the season. By 12 or 12:30am I got home from all the typing, computing, reading, and analyzing. Plop onto my blue, blaket piled futon and breathed.

In that moment I realized something. All day everyone seemed  so engrossed with the boxing match if not our college’s football game. I replayed a scene from Coraline when the little girl meets her ‘other mother’ and how she’s better than her actual mother because she was essentially buying the neglected girl’s affection.  Everything nowadays seems to be bought. From pay per view shows to events, people emerse themselves in the lives of others. Im pretty sure my neighbors and the countless number of grocery shoppers know Mayweather or Alveriez personally. Im sure most of the student spectators know the majority of the football team, if at all any of the members. Yet all these people are propelled to pay to watch some stranger compete. They cheer as if they have known the individual(s) so intimateky and as if they could hear their cheers and encouragements. Why?

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What has our culture come down to really? We buy our entertainment. We buy our leisure. We buy our time. For some, we buy ourselves or the identity that we want.

How has our culture or the steucture of our society rhat our culture is built upn so naracisstic?  Why do we subconsciously or consciously persuade ourselves that our culture is okay? Why can’t we be like Coraline (sp) and see that all these spectacles are only temporary? That these distractions really only aid us in avoiding the real reason (s) for our unhappiness or unsatisfactory?

I sometimes feel like I think too much. Somedays I wake up old. Tired. Wary. Confused. Out of place. I question people, their choices, and their behaviors and then I examine myself with the same critical eye. I guess that’s what age does to you, you start to question the world and yourself more and more. The real question is, when will we choose to stop questioning and start mindlessly wandering rather than living?

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