Four hours without electricity on the fourth day of the seven that make up a week. That means that last Monday there was another power outage where I live, and yesterday Thursday it happened again. In other words, in the span of four full days I’ve had the misfortune of being without the service I pay for month after month for eight hours. This post is not about the annoyance of living in a country where these things happen, but about the things that unfold while other negative ones do their thing.
That is how a friend of mine, who also happens to be my neighbor, and I decided to get through the bad moment by returning to the things we loved when we were younger. And yes, I mean enjoying life in a simple, genuine way, those pleasures that both he and I have always loved. Good music on one side, and beers to cool off from an autumn heat index of over 30 degrees and humidity at 92 percent, at night. Yes, I’m not kidding. Those are exactly the conditions I’m describing, and they were still like that just a few hours before I uploaded this post.
What makes life feel so repetitive and monotonous? In part, the same problems. I’ll use myself as an example. I’m a mother, and every single day I wake up at six in the morning. For years now I’ve repeated the same routine with symmetry and precision. I divide my time between caring for, loving, and raising my little daughter, and also feeling and doing the things I like, like being with my partner and even finding a bit of time for these small moments. Disconnecting, enjoying an ice cold beer, and blasting Arctic Monkeys at full volume.
In past posts I told the story of him, the one who appears in the photographs. Even now, from time to time, whenever my routines and energy allow it, I talk with him and try to help him move through the breakup and the sadness that now seems to guide his life. Still, I think both of us needed to reconnect with that old sense of rebellion. Back when rock and roll and happy memories filled with beers, guitars, and acoustic covers of our favorite bands ruled our lives.
Will our problems disappear if we isolate ourselves for a while from so much anguish and stress? No, that would be irresponsible. But we also cannot allow ourselves to fall into the habit of sacrificing our own pleasure for the sake of something that no one really knows how to define. Maybe some people will agree with me and maybe they won’t, but I feel committed to my nature of telling honest stories, and this will not be the exception. Besides, I will always defend the search for pleasure as the only lifeline within our pure existentialism.
I couldn’t say exactly when we left all of that behind. I assume, just as I said earlier, that as responsibilities grow, so does entropy. That quality of life itself that adds a bit of chaos to situations and gradually pulls us away from what gives us pleasure, happiness, and real joy. That is why I ask, is it really worth living life without making room for pleasure? From my point of view, it is not. That kind of sacrifice kills the soul and takes away the simple happiness of wanting to live one more day.
