*Disclaimer: The next few posts that start with the title “Know Thyself” will make the reader think the author is depressed or cynical, but that is not the case. Upon examination, the author was found not to be depressed, but rather, just an idiot. The following posts of the same title are excerpts from the essay: “Life: The Uncertain Certainty or (Living without Knowing Myself)”. Enjoy.
-Rodolfo Perez (The fucking author)
In my entire life up to this point, I believe one particular experience will always be etched into my memory. This certain encounter occurred on a Friday night in Guanajuato City in the summer of ‘17. I was 18 years old. My family had taken trips around Mexico before, but this was the first trip I had gone on in a while. It was a chilly night (by Mexico’s standards) and the majority of my family was scattered throughout the vacation home, as well as the shops in the nearby streets around the house that were very much alive in those evenings. I stood on the rooftop terrace, looked over the edge of the grand building, and admired the sights and sounds the city offered to me. I closed my eyes for a moment and let my mind wander. I remember the faint sounds of serenades playing in the streets below, only their sounds muffled by the sound of wind rushing past my ear. I realized that in this moment, I was completely alone. I felt like a ghost, floating above the city. I was watching them, but not a soul could see me. I was listening to the lives occurring below me, but I stayed quiet. To quote Fitzgerald, “I was within, and without”. I felt lonely. In that moment, upon reflection, I started to think about who I really am. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and expected some voice within me to speak and exclaim my role, my persona, my duty in life, something; but nothing came. I heard nothing, I stayed quiet for a while longer, and I waited for my definition. A fairly long period of time must have passed, for my moment of “meditation” was interrupted by my father, who came up to the terrace, telling me to come downstairs. I always thought I had a structured set of emotions in my life. I thought if there was one thing I could depend on, it would be the ability to express things like anger, happiness, hate, despair, sadness, and envy. However, after taking a step back, and viewing the world through the perspective of someone who is within and without, I find that I am lacking in a serious amount of genuine emotion. I am lacking in not just feeling love, but in hate as well. I do not feel sad, but I do not feel happy either. I find that I am in a state of suspension with the world that makes me question who I really am, and whether or I not I really am anyone.