Whenever I’m sad or mad or I just can’t stand Life anymore, I turn to Wong Fu Productions. I’ve talked about them a countless number of times, but I don’t think I can and ever will stop talking about them. Their stories and lessons are timeless- moving me each and every time and teaching me a little more about myself and the world around me.
This one in particular is called ONE and it goes into the idea of one having many lives- each playing out in harmony, but being drastically different. Leehom (played by Wang Leehom) is found on the streets of New York playing his guitar and trying to sell his CD’s. A stranger listening along (who I assume is Zoe played by Danni Wang) strikes up a conversation with him and they begin to talk about life parallels.
Leehom explains to Zoe that he believes a different him in a parallel universe is a famous musician living the dream, so he has to live a simple life with music. Zoe disagrees and over coffee they talk about living that “other life” now.
Recently, my parents have been bugging me about grades again. Although they’re better, it stills bothers my parents that they’re not “college material”. So naturally, they blame all my extra-curricular’s and pretty much anything and everything that makes school enjoyable for me. Why did this topic come up? I want to join more and get more involved in my school.
By the end of our conversation, I couldn’t even tell them what I wanted to say. I just left, hurt that they couldn’t and wouldn’t support the things I was doing. They acted as if these things, these things that I liked and cared about were only there to hurt my grades. My Dad went as far to say that he was proud of one of his co-workers who cut his kids from all of their extra-curricular’s so they would focus on school.
At that point I couldn’t even look at him anymore. I mean how dare he applaud another man for taking away what his kids loved and found joy in? For all the readers out there, whether you want to have kids one day or have had kids, or not at all; do you believe that taking away what they excel at makes them a better student. More importantly, does it make them a better human being?
In fact, what does it make you?
One of my teachers (one whom I’ve learned to apprectiate) played this song for us today. “I know you think this doesn’t make sense,” he said. “But it actually does.”
After listening to it, I didn’t think much about it until I got home and got into the argument with my parents. I fought back with the words my teacher had given me. Asking them when I would be able to repeat high school. When I would be able to join more clubs and have fun. I asked them if it was possible for me to truly have fun after my high school years. Not being happy and laughing every now and then, but the youthful, joyous fun that we have as kids. The fun that’s a little glowing shimmering light. The one that shines with beauty and eternal bliss. The one that’s granted to us as children in pure innocence and ignorance. The one we throw away much too soon…
And why? Oh yeah, because fun isn’t as important as Honors and AP classes. And excuse me, I forgot my well being was below my grades and integrity.
Ironically enough, today I got bombarded with Guide-(ad)visment, what my school uses to inform us about the things we should be doing if we expect to go to a four year college and or live our lives after high school. Listening to the different teachers speaking about classes I’d have to take and want to take made me want to pull my hair out. There was things I wanted to do, things I couldn’t care less about, and overall, it just scared me. How am I ever going to get past high school?
“High school isn’t a very important place. When you’re going you think it’s a big deal, but when it’s over nobody really thinks it was great unless they’re beered up.”
-Stephen King, Carrie
The conclusion I’ve come to? I’m only going to be alive in this lifetime once. Whatever I do to with my book of life is whatever I have left to leave behind when I’m gone. If there’s anything I’m sure of, I don’t want that book to be empty.