The art of the side quest, and why time is ticking by faster
This one time my friend and I engaged in hiking tomfoolery at night
JOJO PLACIDES – THE TECH
JOJO PLACIDES–THE TECH
JOJO PLACIDES–THE TECH
Jojo Placides–The Tech
It’s not a good idea to go out alone hiking at night. There might be bears. But maybe the only bear that night was me.
One dark and stormy night, my friend and I had a really dumb idea to go out hiking. Now, generally, when the weather is rainy and the surroundings are gloomy, many people would be scared. “Oooh, you’ll catch a cold,” they say. “You might slip and fall to your death.” These are only thoughts conjured up by the bourgeois to trample on the hopes and dreams of the people to explore freely in the land of a world without an ultimate enforcer of rules. But I digress.
So, down to the Kendall subway station we went! We rode the Red Line to Downtown Crossing, transferred to the Orange Line, and then made it all the way to Oak Grove. Here, I’ll draw it for you. (Take note of where Chinatown is!)
Keep in mind, I’m an immigrant who came from the Philippines three years ago, so my eyes are still fresh as hell. I don’t think I’ve seen much of America outside of my rural coastal town up in Maine and the hyper-urban scene in Boston. So seeing the non-rural, not-quite-hyper-urban side of America was a bit surreal to me. It’s probably a bit insane to you, dear readers, considering many of you grew up in that part of the country. But to me, the old houses and vast forests interrupted by industrial trains and subways were a bit surreal. Most importantly, I was going back to a place that wasn’t swarming with people, much like my hometown Rockland. A place not so crowded — a place with empty, dark roads lit by rows of street lights that stretch to infinity, covered by fallen leaves scattered everywhere — was refreshing compared to the constant activity of Boston and Cambridge.
We walked for 20 whole minutes with the goal of hiking at night, surrounded by scenes like these. And then we finally made it to our destination. However, the road ahead was this evil stretch of Darkness™ that not even our phone flashlights could illuminate. The conversation then went a little something like this:
“Sasha?” I turned to my friend. “Did we happen to bring any flashlights? Actual ones…?”
Carrying a huge backpack full of snacks, Sasha answered, “No.”
“So you’re telling me… we both had this dangerous plan to hike at night, and we didn’t even think about bringing a light source?” I asked.
Sasha shrugged. My palm flew to my face. We were already far away from the city, so we had to trek an additional 20 minutes. No worries! We still had a lot to talk about. He talked about things like how boring his life was and how he’s constantly swamped by psets. I found the talk quite unrelatable. Haha, couldn’t be me! Hahaha…
Then, we realized that the “civilization” — which consisted of two sketchy convenience stores — also didn’t have any light sources. So we resorted to a quick Uber to a nearby Target to get some flashlights and more snacks before returning back to the evil stretch of Darkness™.
How has time passed by so quickly? I mean, I just got here. I had just arrived on campus and checked into East Campus. I was in the company of myself and my innocent eyes, with my suitcase full of clothes and dreams, and you’re telling me we’re already in the twilight times of the fall semester?
Anyway, onward we went to our doom! At first, street lights shone through the trees, but soon we found ourselves at a point where luminance was naught. We were surrounded only by the silhouettes of trees and the gray sky.
In the past, we often joked that we would find a trapdoor to an evil basement like the ones found in found footage films like Marble Hornets. So I had an idea: What if I livestreamed this entire trip? However, there were multiple problems: 1) my battery was running low, 2) service was running out, and 3) I didn’t have the requirements to livestream in the first place. In fact, this was a really rare moment that forced me not to have my phone on. Dark and scary surroundings. Bears, no doubt lurking in the shadows along with the ghosts of those who perished along the way. There were also slippery stones; I could slip, crack my head, and forget I was ever a silly MIT student named Jojo. You’d think I’d be gluing my eyes to my phone like an idiot?
Eventually, we stumbled across a rock that overlooked the rest of the forest, which was still dark, save for the small circles of light from our $10 flashlights. For once, I was actually savoring the mundane moments. The swaying of the trees — no fireworks, no explosions, no headlines or anything — just the breathing of the forest. I vividly remember realizing that, for once, the seconds felt like actual seconds.
What does this mean? I’ll preface this by saying it’s a bit funny walking up and down the Infinite. I catch glimpses of people so busy and determined. I almost never say a word to them, but what’s on their mind is crystal clear: the next thing. The next pset. The next midterm. Their next partner, and so on.
Not only in the Infinite, but everywhere. I notice it while walking to the Stud. That beautiful spot on campus across the street from Lobby 7, where the ground is made of small pebbles and surrounded by tall trees. Here, the Alchemist looks like a metal being appreciating the view. Yet, I don’t really see people enjoying this view. Their eyes are fixed downward, always thinking about the next thing, and the next, and the next… I don’t really look up either, busy looking at my phone or rushing to rehearsals for Rocky Horror. That’s when the seconds feel like mere milliseconds. It’s like everyone — I included — always tries to fast forward past the current moment to go to the next.
But when Sasha and I were at that rock, the seconds felt longer. There was no phone to distract me, and no psets to worry about (at least, in the moment). Just me and him, overlooking the dark, raging silhouettes dancing in the rainy wind.
How do you measure time? No, not literal time. Not with a stopwatch, nerd. How do you discern between a “long time ago” or “just recently”? I used to measure the amount of time since an event by its blurriness in my mind. For example, I don’t remember my 4th birthday vividly, so therefore, it feels long ago.
I also measure the amount of time by how many events have happened since then. In 2024, I went to MIT for RSI for six weeks. A lot has happened since then: sailing in the fall, submitting the MIT college application, getting my heart broken six times, sailing in the spring, submitting my JSHS application, getting my heart broken another six times, realizing that I was the problem, and then finally graduating… Within the last year, I have fundamentally grown and changed as a person.
But college has really distorted this definition; it’s been a whirlwind of events, from the Pumpkin Drop and the student government election to Rocky Horror, FredFest, and apple picking. The events within that whirlwind feel very blurry because, well, it’s been a whirlwind. Thus, they seem so long ago now. But because I still vividly remember my life before college, the day that I arrived at MIT feels rather fresh. In other words, the more recent events feel distant, and the more distant events feel recent. I feel like I’ve done a lot, but haven’t done anything at all.
By the time Sasha and I got to the train station, we felt that it had been a long time since we began this adventure. Furthermore, without our cellphones, our time together felt more full. But we were tired. REALLY tired. We rode the Orange Line train toward Forest Hills, meaning to hop off at Downtown Crossing and transfer over to the Red Line to go back to Kendall/MIT. It was NOW that we pulled out our phones to catch up with civilization. Maybe Half Life 3 came out while we were dillydallying? Maybe Magdalena Bay released a new album?
“Who knows,” I said. “Let’s zone out!” I’ll draw out what happened next:
I think we were in a state where seconds did feel like seconds. But when we went on our phones, the seconds shrunk to milliseconds again, even though we were unaware of this. We thought we had more time than we did. We fast forwarded a bit too far, and thus, we ended up at Chinatown. With a billion psets due at home and million other commitments demanding so much back at MIT, we were initially worried, but thought, oh well, this place is so demanding anyway. At MIT, time flies by, and the seconds shrink. So we just explored Chinatown, enjoying a hotpot restaurant before we went back to MIT and savoring when seconds felt like seconds.
Here’s the real art of the side quest: I think side quests are a resistance to this strange system where we are constantly forced out of the present — constantly forced to think about the next big thing. You’re never really given a moment to just breathe.
So whenever you find yourself subconsciously wanting to skip past the present by looking at your phone, breathe for a second! Notice the environment around you. The leafless trees, the metal giant made out of math next to the Stud, the lights of cars endlessly reflecting into the infinite darkness of the road.
Time feels so fast nowadays because you’re in the midst of college. It’s completely natural. Don’t worry about it. But when you’re presented with those rare liminal moments, whether it’s from Oak Grove to Chinatown or from East Campus to the Stud, don’t let your phone steal your time. The truth is, those mundane moments are the ones that make up the most of your “time.” Skipping these moments is like throwing away the meat. You’ll just end up with two slices of plain bread.
It may not be a good idea to go out alone hiking at night. But at this point, when you’re the equivalent of a twig helplessly tumbling and flowing down the river of time that only continues to accelerate, you might as well…