The Audacity of Monotony

Written in 2017 – a printed out piece of computer paper that I slipped into Josh Katz’s hands (lead singer of Badflower. . .ever heard of them?!) after a tiny concert at a pub house in Pueblo, Colorado. In the following months, I got dinner with the band multiple times and even gave my mom a figurative panic attack when she saw my location moving down the highway in Birmingham, Alabama toward a Bob Evan’s.

                                                                                                             . . .

Looking out a window from thousands of feet above, ants speed by on highways, unaware of the watchful eye that is tracking their every move. From any other angle closer to ground level, the sight wouldn’t be anything notable, merely the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Yet from above, we are unable to break our gaze, mesmerized by the sheer amount of them. Hundreds of colorful ants, moving in unity. Thousands of passengers. Thousands of destinations. Thousands of stories that will forever be unknown to whoever is observing. It’s so mind-blowingly beautiful just how many different lives inhabit this earth, not one of them the same. And how few of them actually mean something in our own worlds. So many different, meaningful souls, surrounded by an aura of mystery that results from having a stranger’s perspective.

That mystery, the unknown, clouds what is really there. Any man, woman, or child walking down the street experiences this ambiguity, only seeing whatever image is portrayed exteriorly by unfamiliar faces, oblivious to the darkness and insecurity that dwells within them. If only society could see past this façade of flawlessness, maybe we wouldn’t feel so alone all of the time—the single blemish on what is otherwise considered a “perfect” society of “perfect” people. Perfection isn’t real. And it pains me to admit how uninspired I’ve become, living in a place that values material items, societal rules and expectations, over actual human connection and exploration.

Monotony is a bitch. And it’s slowly draining me.

It’s as if something is missing—something that I don’t know if I’ll even be able to find. That irksome feeling telling me I could be doing so much more. I’ve been going through life in a daze, not thoroughly thinking through the routine. Time is the most precious thing we have and yet I feel as if I’m wasting it, stuck somewhere safe but somewhere that I’ve outgrown. It’s easy for people to tell me to wait until college is over, go from there. A couple of years doesn’t seem like that big of a deal, but no one actually knows for certain just how many years they will be granted in this life. We’re always waiting for our lives to begin, with an idea of who we want to be someday. I want to spend my life actually living, not waiting on “someday” or wishing years away. I can’t wish these years away. Because I know I’ll regret it, if I do. The journey needs to mean something, and I need it to start now. I just haven’t figured out how to get an iron foot off the brake pedal yet.

I’m homesick for a place that I’m not even sure exists. Peeping through an airplane window, looking at the thousands of people below me, I know that I am not the only one out there who has ever felt this way. But I also wonder how many of those people actually did something about it.

I despise how powerful monotony can become, nestling itself in our daily lives, no one having any apparent issue with it. We wake up at the same times, eat the same things, perform the same jobs, shop at the same stores, and live the same lives every single day. And people choose this for themselves, finding comfort in stability, frightened by the unknown—a fear instilled in us by society to keep us on track. I’m tired of people romanticizing that way of life and shaming those of us who want more from it. Yes, the unknown is the scariest part of our existence, but we do have a choice: fear it or embrace it. It’s a choice whether we practice our usual habits or expand our minds to new possibilities. Even if we tried something new every single day of our lives, we still wouldn’t be able to experience all that the world has to offer. Imagine cutting years, decades, from that time stuck in the same, predictable mindset, afraid of what’s out there. People who are accustomed to this practice must not even realize how much life they are missing. They would never allow it, if they did.

Because life is about doing the things that absolutely terrify you, taking a deep breath before the plunge.

Mundanity is a sneaky thing. You don’t notice that it has taken hold of you until something interrupts your deep slumber and you wake up one day in a panic—forty, married with kids, a job you hate, roots burrowed in the ground so deep you can’t even budge, let alone leave—and in a twisted, maniacal way, it dawns on you that you fucked up. You succeeded in doing what society expected from you, but you left your dreams in the dust, speeding along to conform. You blame life for moving by so fast, keeping you trapped on a path that seemed righteous and safe, never challenging you. Never warning you that you needed to get out and experience the world before rushing to please everyone else around you. Resentment weighs on your mind as the “what ifs” begin to stack up. But life doesn’t owe you anything. There is only one person to blame and it’s the one looking back at you in the mirror.

No matter what society has etched into our brains, I truly do believe that it’s never too late to start a new beginning. It gets harder as we get older though, our naivety and fearlessness wearing thin.

Although for some, I’m sure the little house and family package is enough adventure in itself. There is still beauty in stability and commitment—in no way am I saying there’s not. I admire those who so gracefully exhibit that structure without wavering. But I’m not one of those people. I want to travel and live and test out my dreams before settling down like that.

I am terrified of mediocrity, terrified of being stuck somewhere, always wondering why the hell I never got out. I don’t want to look back at a life of missed opportunity and regret. It’s one of the few conclusions that I know to be absolutely true. I am terrified of never being able to break the tedious, mundane mold that society has so uniformly crafted for me—for all of us.

You see, we overcomplicate life on a daily basis. In a dog-eat-dog world, we forget to appreciate the small moments, for they are too small to be granted our undivided attention. We seem to forget that happiness is a feeling, not some permanent destination that can house us and keep us safe at all times. Happiness is something we have to recognize for ourselves because those moments of pure bliss are fast and they’re fleeting. They’re missed oh so often because people forget to let them in, thinking they’ll make their way back around eventually. They don’t. Those moments disappear, not even given the chance to break up the monotony.

Instead, we put off being happy until some later time and we constantly rush through life, trying to get to the next stage—the seemingly better stage. In that rush, we are blinded, believing the things we love will follow and never leave us. And in those times of ignorance, we miss every single one of those euphoric moments crafted throughout our journey. We let them slip by without even a second thought. We allow time to tick by so quickly that we don’t leave ourselves even a second to obstruct our worries for once, to stop and take everything in before it’s too late. Before we get to what we deemed the final destination and realize that we aren’t as happy as we once thought we would be, the hasty journey getting to that point leaving a bitter aftertaste in our mouths.

Then again, what even constitutes happiness. Write out the word a dozen times and it will begin to seem alien to you. It’s a term thrown around without a road map on how to get there. There are countless definitions as to what happiness actually encompasses. The real adventure is finding yours.

I’ve developed a craving for adventure that I haven’t been able to satisfy. A craving I never even knew I had such a taste for. I can’t pinpoint what exactly woke me from my mindless wander and gave me a yearning to experience this world, but a single band intensified it.

I stood facing the drums, the microphone, the stage that would host a plethora of talented musicians about to play their hearts out, a mere five feet away from me. I could feel the vibration from the speakers, every strum of Alex Espiritu’s bass guitar rippling through me. I could see the drops of sweat forming on their faces. And it was in that moment that I told myself to remember every little detail. Every movement of Josh Katz’s fingers on guitar, and every grin he gave the audience as we sang along with him. Every strand out of place on Joey Morrow’s head after each flip of the hair. For that minute, I was completely, blissfully happy. I let the music carry me away to a place that didn’t count the dollar bills in my bank account or how many years of intense schooling I still had left. One that let all of my worries evaporate away with each hit Anthony Sonetti made on his drum set.

All too soon, it was over. Hurled back into reality, like a ragdoll on the street, tossed out of a moving vehicle by its once adoring owner. It makes one think about life—how perfect it would be if moments like that could happen every night. Then again, it’s those moments that are few and far between that make the greatest impression on us. It’s those few minutes of unfamiliarity and magic that grab us and make us feel most fiercely, holding on to them for dear life. They’re the ones we must chase after or risk losing altogether.

And to me, that gives meaning to this funny thing called life. Those moments where you feel nothing and everything all at once. It’s freedom—a certain kind of peace with the world.

This is a band that seeps passion and love for their craft with every show, every song, and every note. The way raw, human emotion is felt deep within their lyrics and the extreme courage in letting thousands of strangers listen in on it. A band that lives in a van and travels the country, taking on crowds and stadiums and clubs, entertaining all aspects of life. The way they don’t know off the top of their heads the exact location they’ll be in a few weeks’ time. It’s magnificent—the unknown. The constant rush.

They’ve been to cities and countries that I have only been able to dream about, and I envy the heck out of them. Not because they have adoring fans screaming their names (throwing bras and marriage proposals at them) but because they’ve created opportunity for themselves at such a young age. It’s admirable. They are seeing the world firsthand and making a career out of it in the process, one that is going to take them so far. I’m jealous of all the culture and people that they are exposed to, and I hope like hell they are getting out to experience it, not taking it for granted.

There are so many bands out there that get to live like that, but not every band represents itself as well as this one does. Very few do, actually. Not every band is so strikingly down-to-earth. The fame hasn’t gotten to their heads. Rock bands have this bad stigma attached to them: they aren’t supposed to care about anything or anyone. I know how everyone thinks it’s cool not to care, but I don’t believe that to be true at all. I don’t think this band does either, and it’s incredibly refreshing. They’re unapologetically themselves, and they stand for what they believe in. They’re real. They aren’t trying to sell bullshit music just to grab some attention. Everything is laid out on the line in the most honest way possible, something so commendable. Their perseverance is too. They are making the absolute most out of their lives right now, and they’ve risen so far above the monotony that tries to consume us all.

Fuck, they’re bringing integrity and originality back to ALL kinds of music.

The saddest day will be when it costs an arm and a leg just to watch them perform live, small-talk after shows becoming nonexistent, but that will also be the day they’ve made it big. And on that day, I will still have a huge smile on my face for them because they deserve it and so much more.

I am merely a stranger looking in, but it doesn’t always feel that way. I know just about every line from their songs, my car’s speaker familiar with their sound. I’ve laughed at their jokes, been taken aback by their kindness, and I have been brought to tears by their music. I still remember every detail of the day that I first heard their EP. That’s how you know it’s a good one. They’ve created something so remarkable. At a time when inspiration was hard to come by, they were successful in inspiring me.

So, here’s some advice from the girl trying to practice what she preaches, slowly reducing the pressure on that brake pedal. Stop your mind from wandering to a million different places and take a minute to entice it back together. Breathe. Soak in every single thing hitting your body in a few perfect seconds—be it wind, rain, sunshine, laughter, sound from an amazing band—and know that you are alive. We never know the good times are indeed the good times until they’re over. If we constantly fly through the stages of life, we never get to experience those moments; we never get to be happy.

I am searching for a purpose, something that will set me free. I don’t want to be left wondering what could have been. I don’t want to just be an ant, crushed by the weight that comes when one only pines for societal acceptance—and accepts mundanity in return. I’ve seen and spoken to the people living their lives to the fullest, and I can only hope to emulate that someday.

Leave a Comment