It's a Sunday night. Flipping channels, bouncing between movies, a mid 80's nostalgia festival being played out on multiple stations. Pretty in Pink, Goonies, Sixteen Candles. I check the listings, fully expecting Say Anything or the Breakfast Club to be on as well, but no. But I'm struck by the naive sweetness of these films, for some reason more today than any other time I have seen them. Maybe it's just an overload of soundtrack driven sentiment and longing for moments I never really had. And I'm wondering if I still could have such moments, or if I am too cynical, too old and wizened to the cruelties of the world to have them.
I take life for granted too much, perhaps. I look for joy, but I don't think I seek out nearly enough. I don't take risks the way I did when I was young, I mean really young, to the point where even if I knew better I just didn't care. Silly things like sneaking off on my bike to Ford City to see the aforementioned Goonies. Twice. At the age of 12, and that was the last time I ever sat in a theater by myself, and probably the last summer when I wasn't self-conscious and worried about other people's opinions.
I hate how shallow and defiant this world is. I hate how callous people are. I hate these traits in me.
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