Where Mute Memories Start Talking

Sometimes I have trouble focusing on the big picture. I think I’ve gotten better at it lately, though. Minutia usually doesn’t bother me anymore. That said, a lot of times I believe that subtleties can totally change the way we perceive many actions and events. I pay attention to tone, initation, connotations, etc… probably a lot more than I should. Some people think I have OCD.

Perfection is a good thing to strive for, in my opinion. Whether or not it’s achievable is certainly debatable, since life wouldn’t really exist if we had all the answers to all the problems. Math wouldn’t exist either. I don’t see how anyone can enjoy math, since the entire subject centers around problems. “Solve these 30 problems for homework.” No thanks.
Anyway, I think its good to attempt to get as close to perfection as we possibly can.

Sometimes seemingly trivial gestures can turn an entire day around. A smile, a conversation, a phone call, even a lame/awkward hug (you need 8 per day in order to survive) helps. People with OCD probably notice and are affected by these things more so than others.

On my walk to the Subway in Isla Vista, I spotted the pirate. He’s one of the homeless people who roam the streets, easily identifiable by his eye patch and pirate-like demeanor. He’s actually a nice guy, though. There was another guy (who is ALWAYS angry) sitting next to him with a sign asking for spare change, which said “anything helps.” I see both these guys often, but this time they’re arguing. I usually don’t like giving straight-up-cash to bums on the street, so I just walked by as usual.

After I bought my sandwich, I ended up with a few quarters and dimes in change. As I walked back out to the street, I saw that the pirate was gone and the sign-man was still there. I figured the spare change would mean more to him than it does to me, so I decided to give him the money. I started walking towards him and commited the big no-no… I made eye contact. Suddenly everything felt personal. The ragged sign, sloppy handwriting, mud-stained clothes, and K-Mart crate he used for a seat suddenly all jumped out in vivid detail. I spot a bottle of vodka behind the crate and start second-guessing my decision. I’d rather help out the pirate.

Somehow, I nodded and dropped the change in the cup simultaneously. Then I started walking away. Suddenly, a few curse words grabbed my attnetion, and I saw change rolling down the street. Looking back, I saw the homeless man flipping me off and flinging the last quarter towards a passing car. Since I take everything personally, I felt pretty bad for a few seconds. Then it hit me. I chuckled, and started walking back towards my dorm.

Maybe the small things we do don’t make a difference, after all.