Reed and I settled down under a welcoming tree, lying awestruck in its color.
A draft of wind touched the neon green leaves and everything started to come together. The leaves were dancing in the wind, changing colors from bright green to yellow and back to green again. I lied under the tree in an absurd bliss and ecstasy--and then I started to think about my life.
A blur of visions, memories, places and people began to overwhelm me.
I saw myself as a four year old again, blowing out birthday candles in my backward while my doting parents stood behind me with faces of joy and love.
I saw my dog Rocko for the first time again. We were at the dog owners’ house; other people were also there to buy puppies. I remember how he was huddled in the corner--the runt of the pack, as they say--afraid to move the slightest ear or paw. His brown and white face showed complete fear and anxiety. Who knew that he would turn into the gregarious and sociable dog he became? I thought to myself.
These memories and flashbacks kept coming and going for a few minutes until I finally understood.
I understood that life is hardly concrete; if anything, the only thing we have as human entities is a massively eclectic volume of memories, feelings and thoughts that we can both subjectively and objectively draw back on. At this point, it hit me that life was nothing more than exactly what I was experiencing.
Life is a trip. A trip that travels to every last particle of the universe--yet ultimately nowhere--at the same time.
I couldn’t contain myself after coming to this realization.
“Reed,” I said.
Reed looked over. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he must have been experiencing the exact same thing as me. If it wasn’t the exact same thing, then it was pretty damn close.
He took a second to compose himself. He always did that.
“What?”
“Life is such a trip. When I think about it, the only actual thing I actually have is a random assortment of memories. How do I even know they’re real? How do I even know that I’m alive?
“You’re right, Jack,” he said. “Life is a trip. But I’m starting to think it’s more than just that.”
The leaves wouldn’t stop changing colors, but I made sure to keep my attention.
“Life is a dream.”
It was at that moment when I just lost it. With a giddy smile on my face, it was when I finally understood the fleeting and ethereal essence of life and all of its wonders. It was when I realized that life’s a bitch and then you die, but that it’s so much more than that. And it was at that moment when I finally knew that I loved my life and that I wouldn’t trade it for a thing in the world.
