As I looked out the passenger side window of my friend's car, I found myself gazing at the majesty of tree lines that I pass every day, but pay no heed to.
I wondered, as I looked upon the medley of hues of greens and browns, how long I would survive if I just decided to forego what I know of my life here and just start to walk west. Just on an act of pure impulse, forget that I am Nathan Hwang, semi responsible, semi adult, tax paying citizen, who is now counted among the residents of Fairfax County in the 2010 census, and just become no one.
I'm not sure what drove that impulse. A deep seeded need for irresponsibility in my life? The last way to stick it to the man that I am not going to conform to his infinitesimally complex and minutia filled irrelevance of a system. Maybe it is my id finally rearing its head, trying to direct me to path of the greatest appreciation of what I have, because I certainly lack appreciation for it. My soul feels restless, maybe I am a wanderer by nature and I have been stuck in the same place in repetitious monotony for as long as my tolerance can take.
Maybe it is because the trees just looked really pretty and I forget to take a moment each day to admire their simple majesty. Maybe their spirits beckoned to mine for a simple communion, something that I was far more receptive to when I was a child, even just to remind me that the lives that we live are filled with cacophonous clashes of blaring horns, screaming words and sound sound sounds. I forget that the loudest of sounds are not made in loud rooms, but in quiet ones, where all are receptive to hear. Like when I was at the Kennedy center and was afraid to toot (thank you thesaurus.com) while the music was being played among the hushed gallery of collected people far more knowledgeable of classical music than I (except the couple in front of me that thought it was appropriate to nibble on each other's appendages while listening).
I need to look at trees more often.
