Two days ago, I drove myself to work for the first time. As with my other firsts, it gave me a feeling of excitement and a heightened sense of pride.
“I drove from Alabang to Quezon City! I can do anything now!”
The feeling was all too familiar. I was three or four when I first learned how to spell my name. The moment I saw C-A-Y-L-E-N-E on my coloring book, I was unstoppable. The pages of my coloring book turned into vocabulary worksheets, and the only word on those sheets was “Caylene.”
The feeling of excitement at three or four and at 23 is just about the same, most especially when it’s rooted in new experiences and first times.
At 23 though, a box filled with all things exciting is almost always replaced with one filled with afterthoughts that are, to put it plainly, less than exciting. And by this, I don’t mean thoughts like, “What if I run into an accident? God, please. No.”
“What if I forget my driver’s license and get in trouble? No, that’s never going to happen.”
By less than exciting thoughts, I mean questions about why all the hype and all the thrill that come with first times and new experiences die little each day, or how they become a distant blur as time passes.
A year or so from now, driving will no longer be a source of excitement for me. At some point, it’ll be a mere dot in my daily routine–a dot I will neither hate nor love.
“What goes up must come down.” Even excitement and thrill cannot escape or falsify this truth.
Even with all these less than exciting thoughts running in my mind, I still think of how the concept or the idea of excitement never really goes away in a person’s lifetime. The feeling dies, but the idea or the concept remains alive and constant.
This is what keeps me going; this is what keeps people going. The knowledge that recreating the feeling of excitement through more and more experiences is the power everyone has against things, people, and experiences falling apart and becoming a blur.