A long amount of time has passed by since this took place, and although I cannot remember the precise statements or words, the drift is still true to what was said. It takes place off the coast of Turkey in a hotel villa complex next to the beach.
“There’s no reason for anything, everything happens because the world is just a chaotic orgy of the random multiplied by the random.” I announced one ordinary by now day to my new (but ordinary) friend.
“Well, maybe.” Was the disinterested reply from my less interesting friend to my provokative statement.
I had an annoying tendency to do this, especially with people I had just met, but especially with alcopops in me. I couldn’t stop it for some lazy reason, but by the age of eleven I had the world on my mind and no regard for the aggravating social rules and regulations and with my blissful arrogance I was never in a trillion years going to let that obstruct me.
“But, I mean don’t you ever wonder if there's meaning for all the different things in this planet, all the war, the religion, family, love – if it exists and all the other shit that we get injected into our minds at such an early age in this fucked up time to be alive.”
Looking out over the beach in the orange Mediterranean sun, it seemed so clicheic that I was posing such said before and done before questions. My holiday new friend Jake, like most I made in these two week Sunsail villa holidays (which by this time I had been on quite a few) was from wealth, like myself of course and again, like most of these temp friends I made, he couldn’t care less about the problems of the world, the millennium – one year away - and the pivotal era we were growing up in.
“Yeah, but I don’t think about it.” He seemed to be thinking about something completely unrelated, and I can remember feeling frustrated at that point. Twice now he had given me dead end replies – far from the philosophic debate I had envisioned.
There was a pause now, the classic oh so common, yet unpreventable pause when two people are not thinking similarly. It was clear Jake was tired. We had been sailing most of the day and playing cards with our other similarly ‘thrilling’ friends on the beach all night with the girls yakking and chatting nearby. In that age the groups were unconsciously segregated, but that’s nothing new. Later that evening we had naturally got semi-drunk and by default kissed very innocently with the girls, Jake being more laid back than me got lip action from all of them.
“I thought the eclipse yesterday was a bit shit.” I restarted. I thought a bit of negativity would put some common ground between us. Bitching or complaining is always easy convo, it’s effortless because it’s our honest, raw, opinions. Talking about the shit I was on about required thought, and it was uncertain ground, easily challengeable kind of stuff. We needed some agreement to think in sync.
“Apparently they couldn’t see anything in Cornwall, the clouds blocked the whole thing.”
“Really?”
“Yeap, that’s what I heard anyway.”
“The media has whipped the whole eclipse thing into a storm anyway.”
I turned away and looked down at my feet. I realised my cliché a spilt second after I had begun saying it. It was out there now. He’ll just bypass it. I was feeling a little cold and I hugged my knees tightly. Screams and shouts rang out in force from the beach suddenly. We simultaneously looked out and saw the teenagers throwing a girl in the sea. Laughing galore. God I idolised those teenagers. They were so funny, so big, and so cool, playing the guitar. I always waited for the day I could just wake up and be a strong young guy and have many friends who were girls and a girlfriend. Thankfuckfully I didn’t say this to my friend, he would have found out what a pussy-whipped fucking little loser I really was back in England.
“That guy Robe is well funny.” He said, out of the blue, “My brother’s friends with him.” Brilliant. That concretes the fact that my friend was officially cooler than me. My sister was a slag who drank because she was pathetically lonely and guys didn’t like her. I couldn’t help but feel a wave of depression bury me in that moment.
“Is he going on the flotilla with you and your family?” The answer I really didn’t want, from a question I didn’t actually want to ask.
“Yeah, it’s going to be ace.” Ahh excellent, I thought, this second week is going to be more shit than it usually is. All the cool people always leave for the flotilla and all the already second weekers go home. But with Jake gone, I’d have to settle for Mike the arrogant bastard or ugh, If I absolutely had to, Chris the sarcastic shithead.
I quickly realised that the millions of things I wanted to know the answers to were not going to be found out here nor in the next couple of days, or not through the high-yielding debate with my destined to be cool friend, anyway. Drugs, sex, girls, life, death, growing up, jobs, god, existing, the millennium, after the year 2000, the year 3000, marriage, having children, getting old, being old, travelling all around the world, space, the universe, and everything too. I was so desperate. My life stopped. It was like the whole of existence heard all my thoughts, in this tiny fragment of my entire insignificant life, almost like a scene from a film, where the music is so slow, atmospheric and emotional, and you’re overlooking a giant beautiful landscape in the desert sitting, in the fresh breeze cooling you from the sun’s silent rays, keeping you at the perfect temperature, dangling your legs down some towering gorge. I felt like I was going to cry. I looked out, still there was the orange sun. Still next to me was my loyal friend, despite our few days together. I smiled, something benevolent I think. For some foolish reason I placed my hand on his shoulder sighed and said so eloquently I surprised my self: “The Ocean is such an amazing place, I don’t know why but I love just being by it, it makes me feel so…” And for the strangest moment, I knew what to say, but I held back for just an instant.
“Alive.” My beach side companion spoke, with a smile similar to mine.
I looked at him, I hadn’t seen his face for a while. His eyes were concentrating on the music the waves were playing or something poetic like that. There was a little water under them, and I surprisingly also realised I was holding back tears, and he looked at me. The moment he saw me, I knew he knew and I looked away in shame and pretended he never saw me. I hate myself for doing that, denying my emotion because the social acceptability of the time of our macho gender showing emotion didn’t exist. This was at the same time in which I depised the rules of being a boy, a man, a male or whatever and wanted to break free and be myself, and I realised how hypocritical I was. But I thought about how he had finished my line like that – perfectly, with the exact same word I was about to say. He must have read my thoughts, there must be some supernatural spirit listening in on us, that couldn’t of been a coincidence, it couldn’t, and then I opened my eyes to everything that was in the world that was disbelieved, ghosts, angels, daemons, spirits, aliens, souls, meaning, truth, ultimate everlasting pleasure, and God.
And I revelled in my discovery, and smiled once more, because I had discovered it by myself, and without egotistical pride, I felt happy with myself.
I immediately imagined a voice telling me it was all a lie and I hated it for destroying that. Then I put faces to that voice and I hated them, I hated them for taking away something that was mine, something that I so desperately wanted, something that was so enlightening to me, and for letting me believe I could have it forever.
I vowed to my mind, that I wouldn’t let myself disbelieve it, and that if I had one of my psychotic mind battles between good and evil I would fight, I would fight it with all the ferocity I had, with all the energy in my limbs until the blood flowed out and I felt my fleshy body about to disintegrate. I would never change my thoughts, not with age, not with any bullshit teachings from wiser humans, and I would always defend my theory.
I never did get to find out any of my truths of the universe, we sat on the beach saying little more for the rest of that night. A couple of days later my friend left for the flotilla and we said farewell, like old buddies from war.
I don’t know whatever happened to Jake on his flotilla, we unfortunately never stayed in contact. I made friends with Mike, and I learned to like him. When the new lot came in, we eyed them up, most were wanks, but two guys were cool, we were friends and we had fun, this time when we got with the new girls I got with a really amazing girl, but I never remembered her name.
I have learned many things from that particular holiday. Guys and girls aren’t that different, we both want the same thing: happiness, but we all have different ideas of happiness. I didn’t pay enough attention to the girls on those holidays, because of the enemy relationship we grew up with, I can’t even remember any of their names. But I realised that brotherhood in men should not shy away from certain things like emotion just because in sisterhood it’s very strong. If we can integrate more and stop being so stubborn we can maybe marry more and divorce less.
The future is something that will never be solved because it’s forever out of reach. The arguments in the world like drugs, abortion, being gay, freedom, society, politics, religion, terrorism will eventually be solved.
But new ones will always be created to deal with. This is a truth that will follow people to the depths of the universe and until the end of time and existence.