I once was lost, but now profound

Do you ever have times when you feel like you should be profound?

You feel like you should be in a tiny cafe listening to a poetry reading or watching a sunset on a rooftop with a guitar.  Moments when, to quote The Perks of Being a Wallflower, you should feel “infinite.”  A moment when you feel the breeze on your face and with the breeze should come that feeling that a part of you is seventeen again, listening to rock music while riding in your friends’ car in the summer evening, and you know that you could do anything.

It’s kind of like the exact opposite of writer’s block.  Instead of being in the frame of mind to create and throwing your bucket repeatedly and repeatedly into an empty well, you feel like a fountain, an endless stream of potential, if only you could achieve that “infinite” feeling, if only the humidity would drop to 50% and the mercury would hit 68 degrees just as the moon comes over the trees at the edge of the subdivision and “Boys of Summer” comes on the radio.  You know you’ve felt those moments; maybe those are the only moments in your life that you’re really alive and the rest, from the cubicles to the coupons is just a dream.  For the life of you, you don’t know how to capture that feeling.

But instead of discussing German poetry over croissants at an independently-owned, fair-trade coffee shop with friends who were philosophy majors and most get by on couch surfing and the free food at art gallery openings, you are just running around your apartment, full of manic energy alternating between having music on because it almost makes you feel profound and having it off so you can concentrate on being profound.

Or am I the only one?

(When you have to ask the question, the answer is usually, “I’m the only one”)


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