This week, I admit I was struggling to find something to write about. Having written several topics all deeper in nature and cantered around internal reflection, personal mindset framing, and self talk, I wanted to keep this week’s writing a little more light hearted; after all, life shouldn’t be all super serious- something I often struggle to manifest as I mission through my daily time blocked tasks. So, as I walked around outside for inspiration (-20C does not really induce inspiration but instead induces literal cold feet), I thought about the many subtle worldly beauties and pockets of happiness I often overlook: coffee, soft pillows, sunlight, etc.
I opened my computer and navigated through the file directory to my “writings” folder- a poorly organized folder containing all my writings (including my sub stack posts) on random thoughts and happenstances over the 4 years since I’ve owned my current computer. As I created a new document, a folder in the far top right corner caught my eye: “Youtube Scripts.” All of a sudden, a night of supposed peaceful writing turned into a night of joyful reminiscing and awful cringing.
I was brought back to January 2022, a time of great uncertainty due to external uncontrollable forces and my own impulsive decision. After COVID appeared in March 2021 and I quarantined throughout the summer of 2021 in my quiet hometown suburbs, I decided to move to NYC after being persuaded during a one off catch-up with a friend I haven’t seen for years. Alone in a dark sketchy walkup on the border of Hell’s Kitchen and Hudson Yards, I felt like I was an adventurer finally exploring the greater world. Having never travelled without my parents, I ran in a frenzy to experience as much as everything NYC had to offer. Soon enough, after weeks of huge bagels, iconic paintings, celebrity sightings, and window shopping, I grew a bit lonely; I had no one really to share all these fun experience with. All my friends were back quarantining at home; it was just me and the Big Apple.
Floating in between the excitement of novel experiences and the loneliness of helpless solitude, I was inspired to create a Youtube channel. Having been gravitated to story telling and clean cinematography, I wanted to create videos in the form of short stories that depict the thoughts I had while roaming the sights of NYC. Consequentially, I bought a gimbal, wrote scripts, and shot b-roll footage.
Perhaps it was the towering skyscrapers which gave me my grandiose goal of having millions and millions of subscribers (everyone’s dream job is to be a famous YouTuber right?). Alas, it was merely a sudden spark of inspiration that failed to ignite a greater inferno; I quit after my first video. But despite being the shy person I was, I still somehow found the courage to upload this to my channel
If you’re curious:
Please be sure to like, comment, and subscribe :D.
Watching this back, I couldn’t help but shudder at the sound of my voice- something I am very much unused to hearing after not recording myself speak for so long. Very quickly, I muted the video and kept watching the visuals- the short clips, which are forever etched in my memory, representing the impression I had on NYC during a time of life in which I was so oblivious of the greater world. Finding myself with the widest smile, I see all the memories flood back to the forefront of my consciousness. It’s almost as if I can see, touch, and hear all the wonderful and memorable experiences I had. I could see myself sleeping in a dark box at night and roam the concrete wilderness at day. I could see myself slurp up the juice from the insides of a bone marrow (a novel experience at the time). I could see myself comparing my reaction to those of other onlookers as we marvel at the Starry Night painting.
Fun memories :)
This takes me to some (shallow) reflection I would like to briefly explore. How valuable is recording the thoughts, the emotions, and the connections encountered at any given point of time? As I age, I find myself happily reminiscing my younger self a bit more- the version of myself who gets to experience some of the shallow beauties of the world for the first time. While I can always go back to NYC and absolutely demolish a thick bagel and lox again, I will never experience that first bite of having that particularly iconic dough, which was hyped all over Youtube and blogs as a NYC must have. In a deeper sense, I also fondly look back on my past ways of thinking- all the lack of experiences, diverse friendships, and mulled over nuance make an equally compelling and exciting life when compared to the life I currently have. The sets of challenges were different. The daily way of living was unique. The sights behold were magnificent in their own regards.
Maybe this is just a function of getting older- the propensity to look back at a younger self and to live back a time when life was simpler and more dynamic. Despite being still currently very young, I fondly look back when I was more restless: myself in NYC, myself in freshman year of university, myself in junior year of high school…. Good times.
It is inevitable to look ahead as well. Similar to how I look back at my younger self, my older self will look back at my current self. Like how I want to make my younger self proud, I also want to make my older self proud as well- proud that he took advantage of his youth and his foolish ambitions in a world of certain uncertainty and cynicism~