Society has destroyed beauty. There seems to be a strange sort of paradox occurring in the world in which one can’t be beautiful and healthy at the same time—unless you’re an air-brushed actress who is seen with her clothes off relatively frequently. But at the same time, we do seem aware of this problem. Mind you, we do little to nothing in the area of fixing it, but we do seem aware. We are very aware that there are young people, mostly women, in the world who have a skewed body image of themselves. We give them diagnoses and put them into hospitals if necessary, teaching them to eat properly. The problem arises in the people who are never diagnosed because there isn’t technically anything wrong with them.
The problem resides in the people who are healthy but look into the mirror every morning with a slight sadness or disdain. They know exactly what they look like, there is no skewed body image and they are not changing their eating habits in any severely negative way. They may be dieting when they don’t necessarily need to, or running every morning in the hopes that their disdain may fade. These are the people who suffer from the horrible view on beauty yet who go unseen. The people who are pretty, and therefore unnoticed. The people who suffer not from anorexia or bulimia, but from a lack of self-esteem are the people who are suffering most in society today.
It’s a problem, and it needs to be fixed. Don’t ask me how, because I don’t know. I understand that the media may be the source—it certainly is one of the prime suspects—but which comes first? Is it really the media’s fault that as women on screen and paper got skinnier and skinnier, people seemed more and more interested in the people and mimic it more and more? Trust me, I would love to blame the media as much as anything else, and there is little doubt that the ugly progression of beauty was fueled by the media. But let’s face it; it’s not the media’s fault. The media cannot influence us unless we choose to be influenced.
I’m afraid I don’t really have much more to say on this topic. I know that my analytical inserts are usually at least 750 words long, and this one is barely over 400. What I needed to say has been said, so to say any more would be a waste of both our time. Until next time, and I apologize for the lack of writing (writer’s block isn’t fun); I will try to get my groove back as soon as possible.
Be careful where you step, young one; the water is only shallow for so long.
Showing posts with label Analyticals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Analyticals. Show all posts
24 August 2010
17 August 2010
Notes on Music
I have found throughout the years that music teachers think that they can, for some reason, decide what is and is not music. Of course, the opinions vary from one teacher to the next, which, in itself, poses one of the key problems in their claim. Some teachers would die before calling Lady Gaga musical genius, while others cringe at the idea of Andrew Lloyd Webber being considered amazing. Some teachers don’t believe in the jazz clarinet; some don’t believe in jazz at all. Some teachers think that classical music is the only music worth a dime and that rap is not worthy of any recognition and should be wiped out. Is this a problem? My friends, this is just the beginning.
I think it is time that the definition of "music" be changed. True, the definition has stood high and proud for many years now, but imagine what life would be like if we all held true to rules and definitions hundreds, even thousands, of years old. Society changes all of the time, and with it should change definitions. Definitions should be used to decide what something is or is not in any sense beyond the purely scientific (though even this can be called into question as time continues). Definitions should be changed to allow things to be correctly called what they truly are.
I have heard it said that without music, we would not be civil, but like animals. I think this is a false statement. As a proud, fictional British man once said, "Any savage can dance." And though these words are cruel and demeaning, one can hardly deny their truth. The simple fact of the matter is that music keeps us leveled. With technology booming, it is hard for humanity to remember that is, in fact, animal. Music keeps us off of our high horse. Music attaches us to nature and our beginning more than any other human creation. Perhaps this is due to the fact that “any savage can dance.” Elephants in India can be trained like any 5th grader to play various instruments—mostly percussion—and in Jane Goodall’s camp, there was a chimpanzee who reached the top of his hierarchy by banging garbage tops together. Music is, plainly and simply, animal.
Music needs to be redefined. Music can be anything from Beethoven to Lady Gaga to the wailing of horns as cars drive through New York City on a very normal morning. Music should be considered to be any sound, or series thereof, that causes some sort of internal reaction in someone—anyone. Music is an expression of self. When you find a music teacher who can define each and every one of the students in their school using classical music, please let me know so I can give them an award for the most closed-minded person to walk the Earth.
Ignorance! Society is feeling a massive spur of ignorance! We think, we insist that we know everything. We pull out our dictionaries to prove other people wrong when we should be pulling out pencils and editing our dictionaries. Imagine what a better place the world would be if definitions were more inclusive rather than exclusive. We’re sitting peacefully inside our perfectly defined world, ignoring everything that goes wrong because our darned definitions. Redefining music is only the beginning. It’s time for change, massive change. But before we can change the politics and the laws and the tiny other insignificant details, we need to change the dictionary. So much be changed by typing a few extra lines into a book that’s too large for its own good anyway. At the point when views are being forced upon others with the dictionary, there is a problem.
Perhaps one of the reasons music programs are failing around the country is because people are getting so picky about what music is. There is little doubt in my mind that the true reason is because we, the younger generation, keep telling the kids younger than us that it is failing, thus resulting in them not really wanting to be involved, thus resulting in decline. BUT regardless of the true reason, I’m sure that more kids would be in band if every now and then we played a strong beat, heavy percussion section, and more kids would undoubtedly join choir if we could drop the Gregorian Chants for once and pull out some pop (and no, allowing pop songs in the top choirs won’t do the trick, guys). We need to reach out. We need to expand. I am a fan of, what I consider to be the new classics (Williams, Horner, Howard, Giacchino, etc.,) but I will be the first to acknowledge that anything usable for purposes of self-expression counts as music. If not to me, to someone else.
Music: a sound, or series thereof, that causes an emotional response in the listener or can be used as an expression of self.
At least then the teachers can’t tell us that we’re wrong.
I think it is time that the definition of "music" be changed. True, the definition has stood high and proud for many years now, but imagine what life would be like if we all held true to rules and definitions hundreds, even thousands, of years old. Society changes all of the time, and with it should change definitions. Definitions should be used to decide what something is or is not in any sense beyond the purely scientific (though even this can be called into question as time continues). Definitions should be changed to allow things to be correctly called what they truly are.
I have heard it said that without music, we would not be civil, but like animals. I think this is a false statement. As a proud, fictional British man once said, "Any savage can dance." And though these words are cruel and demeaning, one can hardly deny their truth. The simple fact of the matter is that music keeps us leveled. With technology booming, it is hard for humanity to remember that is, in fact, animal. Music keeps us off of our high horse. Music attaches us to nature and our beginning more than any other human creation. Perhaps this is due to the fact that “any savage can dance.” Elephants in India can be trained like any 5th grader to play various instruments—mostly percussion—and in Jane Goodall’s camp, there was a chimpanzee who reached the top of his hierarchy by banging garbage tops together. Music is, plainly and simply, animal.
Music needs to be redefined. Music can be anything from Beethoven to Lady Gaga to the wailing of horns as cars drive through New York City on a very normal morning. Music should be considered to be any sound, or series thereof, that causes some sort of internal reaction in someone—anyone. Music is an expression of self. When you find a music teacher who can define each and every one of the students in their school using classical music, please let me know so I can give them an award for the most closed-minded person to walk the Earth.
Ignorance! Society is feeling a massive spur of ignorance! We think, we insist that we know everything. We pull out our dictionaries to prove other people wrong when we should be pulling out pencils and editing our dictionaries. Imagine what a better place the world would be if definitions were more inclusive rather than exclusive. We’re sitting peacefully inside our perfectly defined world, ignoring everything that goes wrong because our darned definitions. Redefining music is only the beginning. It’s time for change, massive change. But before we can change the politics and the laws and the tiny other insignificant details, we need to change the dictionary. So much be changed by typing a few extra lines into a book that’s too large for its own good anyway. At the point when views are being forced upon others with the dictionary, there is a problem.
Perhaps one of the reasons music programs are failing around the country is because people are getting so picky about what music is. There is little doubt in my mind that the true reason is because we, the younger generation, keep telling the kids younger than us that it is failing, thus resulting in them not really wanting to be involved, thus resulting in decline. BUT regardless of the true reason, I’m sure that more kids would be in band if every now and then we played a strong beat, heavy percussion section, and more kids would undoubtedly join choir if we could drop the Gregorian Chants for once and pull out some pop (and no, allowing pop songs in the top choirs won’t do the trick, guys). We need to reach out. We need to expand. I am a fan of, what I consider to be the new classics (Williams, Horner, Howard, Giacchino, etc.,) but I will be the first to acknowledge that anything usable for purposes of self-expression counts as music. If not to me, to someone else.
Music: a sound, or series thereof, that causes an emotional response in the listener or can be used as an expression of self.
At least then the teachers can’t tell us that we’re wrong.
16 July 2010
Notes on Anything:
Anything; definition- any object, or matter whatever- to any degree or extent; at all something or someone of importance- any object, event or action whatever- in any way- anything but, not at all
Anything is everything is anything. So anything can be anyone can be anything, anywhere, at any time.
Any possibility is an endless possibility.
Any moment can cause happiness, can cause pain, can be seized.
Anything is anyone, is you, is me, is our future together, is our future apart.
Love of any kind can hate. Hate of any kind can love. Love is hate is love.
Any person, any place, at any given moment is doing anything.
Anything is happening to anyone at any time, anywhere.
Anything can be anything, and anything can change at any time to be anything other than the original anything it was. Anything can go anywhere, be anyone, do anything, so do it. Be anything.
As wonderful a fall back as 'anything' may seen, it isn't much good at catching. So don't fall. Jump.
Anything; definition- what we were when we were where we were; where we are when we are where we are; what we'll be when we'll be where we'll be.
Be anything.
Anything is everything is anything. So anything can be anyone can be anything, anywhere, at any time.
Any possibility is an endless possibility.
Any moment can cause happiness, can cause pain, can be seized.
Anything is anyone, is you, is me, is our future together, is our future apart.
Love of any kind can hate. Hate of any kind can love. Love is hate is love.
Any person, any place, at any given moment is doing anything.
Anything is happening to anyone at any time, anywhere.
Anything can be anything, and anything can change at any time to be anything other than the original anything it was. Anything can go anywhere, be anyone, do anything, so do it. Be anything.
As wonderful a fall back as 'anything' may seen, it isn't much good at catching. So don't fall. Jump.
Anything; definition- what we were when we were where we were; where we are when we are where we are; what we'll be when we'll be where we'll be.
Be anything.
09 July 2010
Notes on Anything
Anything; definition-any object, or matter whatever-to any degree or extent; at all something or someone of importance-any object, event or action whatever-in any way-anything but, not at all.
Anything: The Ultimate Excuse. If used too many time in the presence of one individual, may cause anger, frustration and lack of understanding. USE WITH CAUTION.
Anything: The Ultimate Excuse. Anything; the perfect avoidance beacon from responsibility. When someone asks me a question for which my answer is clearly defined and may cause, shall we say, "controversy," my answer is 'anything.' "What should we do for dinner?" One of the most lethal questions a person could ever be asked. There is at least a 75% chance that the asked already has something in mind, so the answerer must be extremely careful on this unsteady ground. 'Thinking... dinner... thinking... not spaghetti... anything bu spaghetti.' "Anything." In my mind's eye it was decided that the likelihood that, of all available meals, spaghetti should be chosen, was so small that it would be better to appear indifferent. Of course, it works the other way as well. If my answer to the question is too particular, and therefore possibly open to ridicule, I will default to "anything." Anything is a fall back--a place to go when our fear of prosecution overrides our knowledge of freedom. Anything can go anywhere, be anyone, so anything, so why not fall back on it? It's so soft, so malleable, so open.
Anything: A Death Sentence. It's too open. As wonderful a fall back as 'anything' may seem, it isn't much good at catching. In fact, the result of falling back on 'anything' is nothing, which leads to back and neck pains. Ouch. 'Anything' must be used with caution. Answering the "what do you want to do in college?" question with 'anything' is a terrible idea. In an instance like that, answering with "anything" leads to follow-up question (which I personally despise and avoid at all costs). So now 'anything' isn't an avoidance beacon anymore, but a huge attracting beam. So unless you want the attention received during the follow-up questioning, avoid 'anything.'
'Anything' may help on occasion when you're in a tight spot, but don't use it all of the time. 'Anything' can be anything, and 'anything' can change at any time to become anything other other than the anything it was when it was first mentioned. Anything: The Ultimate Excuse, a Death Sentence, and the Most Dangerous Word in the English Language.
Anything: The Ultimate Excuse. If used too many time in the presence of one individual, may cause anger, frustration and lack of understanding. USE WITH CAUTION.
Anything: The Ultimate Excuse. Anything; the perfect avoidance beacon from responsibility. When someone asks me a question for which my answer is clearly defined and may cause, shall we say, "controversy," my answer is 'anything.' "What should we do for dinner?" One of the most lethal questions a person could ever be asked. There is at least a 75% chance that the asked already has something in mind, so the answerer must be extremely careful on this unsteady ground. 'Thinking... dinner... thinking... not spaghetti... anything bu spaghetti.' "Anything." In my mind's eye it was decided that the likelihood that, of all available meals, spaghetti should be chosen, was so small that it would be better to appear indifferent. Of course, it works the other way as well. If my answer to the question is too particular, and therefore possibly open to ridicule, I will default to "anything." Anything is a fall back--a place to go when our fear of prosecution overrides our knowledge of freedom. Anything can go anywhere, be anyone, so anything, so why not fall back on it? It's so soft, so malleable, so open.
Anything: A Death Sentence. It's too open. As wonderful a fall back as 'anything' may seem, it isn't much good at catching. In fact, the result of falling back on 'anything' is nothing, which leads to back and neck pains. Ouch. 'Anything' must be used with caution. Answering the "what do you want to do in college?" question with 'anything' is a terrible idea. In an instance like that, answering with "anything" leads to follow-up question (which I personally despise and avoid at all costs). So now 'anything' isn't an avoidance beacon anymore, but a huge attracting beam. So unless you want the attention received during the follow-up questioning, avoid 'anything.'
'Anything' may help on occasion when you're in a tight spot, but don't use it all of the time. 'Anything' can be anything, and 'anything' can change at any time to become anything other other than the anything it was when it was first mentioned. Anything: The Ultimate Excuse, a Death Sentence, and the Most Dangerous Word in the English Language.
25 June 2010
Notes on Procrastination
You can ask anyone why procrastination is a good thing, and they’ll most likely say “I work better under pressure”… yeah, that’s a load of bull. And then you’ll run into the upstanding, straight A, valedictorian student who says, “Procrastination isn’t a good thing”… also a load of bull. To be honest, I don’t know what is up with today’s society that is so obsessed with deadlines. Deadlines are important sure, but they are dead, so what are they going to do to you? Exactly, they can’t do anything. They may postpone that promotion a bit, but worse things have happened. Procrastination never sounds like a good idea. Missing a deadline is a horrible feeling. It’s the stomach churning, gut wrenching feeling that everybody just loves. But think about it. Would you rather miss the deadline or your daughter’s fourth birthday party? At first the answer is obvious: the birthday party. After all, there’s only one deadline, and she’ll have other birthdays. However, she’ll only ever have one fourth birthday (which cannot be pushed back with a simple request written oh so eloquently and e-mailed off to your boss) and, as much as I hate to say this, there is no guarantee that she will have another birthday. The odds are low, yes, but they are still there.
The biggest waste of time is not procrastinating. No, I don’t mean that the biggest waste of time is a single something other than procrastination. Read the sentence again, put an emphasis on “not,” and you’ll see what I mean.
Procrastination is living. Think about it. If you finished everything right away, what would you do with all of the extra time? Don’t know? That’s funny, because I don’t either. The thing about procrastination is that it inspires you to do things you wouldn’t normally do in the attempt to avoid working. Maybe that’s what sucks so much about college. Even with 17 credits, there’s only so much studying you can do before your brain explodes, and if you don’t procrastinate, I can guarantee that while everybody else is studying in a rush at the last moment, you will be sitting in your dorm room, flipping a coin 300 times to see if heads or tails will win (it’s tails, by the way). Or maybe you’ll play solitaire on your computer, switching every third time to real cards for the excitement of the sudden change. Or, as I have found myself doing when immersed in total and complete boredom, 467 games of minesweeper at the highest level (none of which will be won, of course). Life is boring without procrastination. There are no desperate attempts at avoiding work and there are no desperate attempts to finish work in time. Procrastination is what makes life worth living.
I don’t mean to condone procrastination. There is little doubt that it can cause major problems—especially related to school. In any do-or-die situation it is generally a better idea to finish something ahead of time and give yourself a good day or so to review and make any alterations. However, that math homework can wait until 10:00 at night. Think of all the things that can be discovered when trying to avoid doing something. People try things that they never before would have thought to try when they’re trying to not do something else. Ideas for stories arise from the fabrics; a to-be-favorite TV show is brought to attention; the perfect plot for world domination is formed and about to be carried out when suddenly foiled (by someone else procrastinating who thought it would be cool to try and be a super hero for one night). Sometimes it is in those moments when we are desperately searching for some form of occupation that we find our future careers. We may discover our one true passion that would have flown well under the radar had we actually done whatever it was we were supposed to do exactly when we were supposed to do it. Any of the arts are like this, I think. Very few people discover their love of art by doing a homework assignment. The same goes for musicians. If it doesn’t, I think it should. I don’t think any musician should decide to be a music major because they just loved playing scales.
Procrastination is a good thing, despite its ugly reputation, and I think if people spent less time worrying about when things are due, maybe they could live a bit more. More time would be spent with families, eating proper meals, resulting in a healthier country. People, I think, could be so much happier if they just came to realize that the work day has come to an end, and now it’s time to relax… until 11:00 when you remember that one thing.
The biggest waste of time is not procrastinating. No, I don’t mean that the biggest waste of time is a single something other than procrastination. Read the sentence again, put an emphasis on “not,” and you’ll see what I mean.
Procrastination is living. Think about it. If you finished everything right away, what would you do with all of the extra time? Don’t know? That’s funny, because I don’t either. The thing about procrastination is that it inspires you to do things you wouldn’t normally do in the attempt to avoid working. Maybe that’s what sucks so much about college. Even with 17 credits, there’s only so much studying you can do before your brain explodes, and if you don’t procrastinate, I can guarantee that while everybody else is studying in a rush at the last moment, you will be sitting in your dorm room, flipping a coin 300 times to see if heads or tails will win (it’s tails, by the way). Or maybe you’ll play solitaire on your computer, switching every third time to real cards for the excitement of the sudden change. Or, as I have found myself doing when immersed in total and complete boredom, 467 games of minesweeper at the highest level (none of which will be won, of course). Life is boring without procrastination. There are no desperate attempts at avoiding work and there are no desperate attempts to finish work in time. Procrastination is what makes life worth living.
I don’t mean to condone procrastination. There is little doubt that it can cause major problems—especially related to school. In any do-or-die situation it is generally a better idea to finish something ahead of time and give yourself a good day or so to review and make any alterations. However, that math homework can wait until 10:00 at night. Think of all the things that can be discovered when trying to avoid doing something. People try things that they never before would have thought to try when they’re trying to not do something else. Ideas for stories arise from the fabrics; a to-be-favorite TV show is brought to attention; the perfect plot for world domination is formed and about to be carried out when suddenly foiled (by someone else procrastinating who thought it would be cool to try and be a super hero for one night). Sometimes it is in those moments when we are desperately searching for some form of occupation that we find our future careers. We may discover our one true passion that would have flown well under the radar had we actually done whatever it was we were supposed to do exactly when we were supposed to do it. Any of the arts are like this, I think. Very few people discover their love of art by doing a homework assignment. The same goes for musicians. If it doesn’t, I think it should. I don’t think any musician should decide to be a music major because they just loved playing scales.
Procrastination is a good thing, despite its ugly reputation, and I think if people spent less time worrying about when things are due, maybe they could live a bit more. More time would be spent with families, eating proper meals, resulting in a healthier country. People, I think, could be so much happier if they just came to realize that the work day has come to an end, and now it’s time to relax… until 11:00 when you remember that one thing.
11 June 2010
Notes on "Moving On"
Sometimes it takes more than just deciding to move on, and that’s where the dilemma occurs. I have heard, and no doubt you have heard as well, that it is so much easier to get over someone when you meet someone else. The problem is, when the mind is so thoroughly pre-occupied with that past someone, it’s rather difficult to find the replacement someone. Not to mention the fact that most people don’t like the idea of dating someone simply as a rebound. In most situations, people don’t like to blatantly, consciously hurt others.
It dawned on me one night, that perhaps the only way to truly get over someone is to cut them off completely. This, however, also creates a problem. In my case, this person was a friend, my best friend, and I am anything but willing to throw that away just so I can “move on.” Frankly, I think that moving on is over rated. The trick is not to “move on,” but to accept. No, those are not the same thing.
Quantifiably speaking, moving on is the easy way out. How is that quantifiable? I have no idea; I just wanted to say that. But seriously now, moving on is easier than accepting. The thing about “moving on” is that it’s very similar to forgetting. Just throw person A on the back burner and pull person B forward. Easy, fast and involving very little effort, moving on seems to be the ideal solution. And while “moving on” may be the ideal solution in terms of speed, there is severe questioning as to how ideal it is in terms of duration: hence the idea of a “rebound.” The “rebound” really does sum up quite nicely what “moving on” is. It is a brief period during which one’s focus has been voluntarily and forcibly transferred from a person of the past to a person of the present. Notice the lack of “person of the future” in that definition. The “rebound,” as many people know, serves one, and only one purpose: to help you “move on.” Honestly, though, what does a “rebound” do but make you temporarily glad you are no longer with that person of the past, only to make you miss that very person at the end of the relationship?
Acceptance is, of course, considerably more difficult but more rewarding in the long term. Acceptance is easy until word reaches your ears that your former is no longer as alone as you are. So why would anyone choose acceptance over the apple-in-the-basket technique that is moving on? The thing about acceptance is that it gives any chance of a possible sustained friendship, well, a chance. Acceptance is simply deciding that you are ok with the decisions made by either party to end a relationship or, as is significantly more painful in my opinion, to never start one at all. It is accepting the fact that there is someone else out there for them and, more importantly, someone else out there for you. I would love to tell you the steps to reaching this acceptance, but I cannot. See, the thing about acceptance is that everyone has to take their own road to reach it. So, not only am I yet to discover my road, but there is an entirely different road that must be taken by you.
Ok, now for the complete honesty. I think acceptance and “moving on” are both complete shit. Yes, I said it. Both of those words were chosen by people who never had to accept or move on from anything. The kind of people who married their high school sweethearts, are still happily married, and have friends whose lives are something less than perfect. It’s the kind of advice that is only received from friends in an extremely happy situation. Think about it, when did a friend who was going through something at all remotely similar to you ever tell you to “just accept it and move on;” which I think is my favorite phrase. Just accept it and move on. Was there ever a colder way to tell someone you care? Quite frankly, the whole thing is just a joke. The truth of the matter is that you will probably never truly get over the person from your past, but you will find a person for your future. Eventually the future will be the present. As much as I would love to assure you, being an idealist romantic, that the person of your future will be the person from your past, it simply cannot be. Life is not a movie. At times it may seem like it is—especially because there’s always music playing—but it’s not.
Perhaps the better term, better than acceptance, better than “moving on,” is giving up. Giving up isn’t always as horrible and dishonorable as people make it out to be. Maybe it’s time to give up.
Look to the sky, take a long, deep breath, and fall back into the grass, never to rise again.
It dawned on me one night, that perhaps the only way to truly get over someone is to cut them off completely. This, however, also creates a problem. In my case, this person was a friend, my best friend, and I am anything but willing to throw that away just so I can “move on.” Frankly, I think that moving on is over rated. The trick is not to “move on,” but to accept. No, those are not the same thing.
Quantifiably speaking, moving on is the easy way out. How is that quantifiable? I have no idea; I just wanted to say that. But seriously now, moving on is easier than accepting. The thing about “moving on” is that it’s very similar to forgetting. Just throw person A on the back burner and pull person B forward. Easy, fast and involving very little effort, moving on seems to be the ideal solution. And while “moving on” may be the ideal solution in terms of speed, there is severe questioning as to how ideal it is in terms of duration: hence the idea of a “rebound.” The “rebound” really does sum up quite nicely what “moving on” is. It is a brief period during which one’s focus has been voluntarily and forcibly transferred from a person of the past to a person of the present. Notice the lack of “person of the future” in that definition. The “rebound,” as many people know, serves one, and only one purpose: to help you “move on.” Honestly, though, what does a “rebound” do but make you temporarily glad you are no longer with that person of the past, only to make you miss that very person at the end of the relationship?
Acceptance is, of course, considerably more difficult but more rewarding in the long term. Acceptance is easy until word reaches your ears that your former is no longer as alone as you are. So why would anyone choose acceptance over the apple-in-the-basket technique that is moving on? The thing about acceptance is that it gives any chance of a possible sustained friendship, well, a chance. Acceptance is simply deciding that you are ok with the decisions made by either party to end a relationship or, as is significantly more painful in my opinion, to never start one at all. It is accepting the fact that there is someone else out there for them and, more importantly, someone else out there for you. I would love to tell you the steps to reaching this acceptance, but I cannot. See, the thing about acceptance is that everyone has to take their own road to reach it. So, not only am I yet to discover my road, but there is an entirely different road that must be taken by you.
Ok, now for the complete honesty. I think acceptance and “moving on” are both complete shit. Yes, I said it. Both of those words were chosen by people who never had to accept or move on from anything. The kind of people who married their high school sweethearts, are still happily married, and have friends whose lives are something less than perfect. It’s the kind of advice that is only received from friends in an extremely happy situation. Think about it, when did a friend who was going through something at all remotely similar to you ever tell you to “just accept it and move on;” which I think is my favorite phrase. Just accept it and move on. Was there ever a colder way to tell someone you care? Quite frankly, the whole thing is just a joke. The truth of the matter is that you will probably never truly get over the person from your past, but you will find a person for your future. Eventually the future will be the present. As much as I would love to assure you, being an idealist romantic, that the person of your future will be the person from your past, it simply cannot be. Life is not a movie. At times it may seem like it is—especially because there’s always music playing—but it’s not.
Perhaps the better term, better than acceptance, better than “moving on,” is giving up. Giving up isn’t always as horrible and dishonorable as people make it out to be. Maybe it’s time to give up.
Look to the sky, take a long, deep breath, and fall back into the grass, never to rise again.
04 June 2010
Notes on Loneliness
Loneliness is possibly the worst feeling I have ever felt. It is easily the hardest thing to deal with- especially when the key to dealing with it is at the time living some 762 miles away and in a different time zone.
Honestly, I don’t know how men do it. They always have to be tough and independent. To admit loneliness for a man is like admitting that you’re homosexual. In other words, it could be worse, but it still sucks, and your friends give you funny looks. I could be wrong, but I’ve always been under the impression that men don’t confide in each other the way that women do. Men always seem to have a sort of pent up anger inside of them that they can’t get out. Maybe it’s because they’re lonely and they can never admit it.
The hardest thing about loneliness, I found, was admitting it to me. It was an acknowledgment of the hole inside of me- the hole that I could not fill. And perhaps the strangest thing about loneliness was that even after I admitted my loneliness to my closest friends, even after they promised me that all would be well and that I wouldn’t be alone forever, I still felt alone. I had been reassured that I wasn’t alone by the simple fact that my friends cared enough to talk with me. Yet still I felt alone.
Loneliness is hard to describe, probably due to the fact that I was never actually alone when I felt the feeling most acutely. I always had my roommate, my three best girl friends and a guy friend. My sisters were not far away, and my mother was always up for a phone conversation. This was how I discovered that there is one cure for loneliness. The cure may change over time, but at any given moment, there is only ever a single cure. That single cure is a person.
I think loneliness is also due to jealousy. I hate to admit that I have felt jealousy towards my friends, but to claim anything different would simply be a lie. Each of my friends had someone they could turn to who was fairly nearby. My cure was half-way across the nation, living an hour ahead of me, and busy beyond belief. In reality, the loneliness didn’t hit me until I realized the directions we were heading in. I realized that with the work schedule my cure was leaning towards, they would have almost no time at all to talk with me. I realized with a pained revelation that I was going to lose them.
Perhaps loneliness, while also being that empty feeling in the pit of your stomach that you somehow know is not hunger, is also a fear. It is a fear that things will never be how they used to be. “No matter how we try, we can’t go back,” as Margaret Hale said in BBC’s version of North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. Loneliness is a sort of ache. It’s an ache of heart, body and mind. I think loneliness and depression, as they do not go hand in hand, are often confused with each other. My sister, unaware of everything that was going in my life at the time, knowing only the fact that I didn’t like the school I was attending, diagnosed me with depression. Not serious depression, of course, but depression nonetheless. At that point, I would not say that I was lonely. The loneliness was kind enough to join me later in the year- about two and a half weeks later, to be precise.
Loneliness can be conquered to a point. It can be ignored, pushed aside by other work. It can be channeled into more useful things- such as stories that all of your friends say will be published, but deep down you know they never will, because you don’t have the courage to do it. Yes, loneliness can be pondered over and deeply analyzed like this, but personally I would not advise this method. Thinking too much on any given topic had proven to have very negative side effects- especially if you’re as bitter a person as I am. Also, listening to sad music is probably not the best solution. The best advice I can give is that you find your cure. Hopefully they will live in the same time zone as you. If not, do your best with what you can. Fight through every three days and be saved by them just before it all comes crashing down.
Be careful where you step, young one. The water is only shallow for so long.
Honestly, I don’t know how men do it. They always have to be tough and independent. To admit loneliness for a man is like admitting that you’re homosexual. In other words, it could be worse, but it still sucks, and your friends give you funny looks. I could be wrong, but I’ve always been under the impression that men don’t confide in each other the way that women do. Men always seem to have a sort of pent up anger inside of them that they can’t get out. Maybe it’s because they’re lonely and they can never admit it.
The hardest thing about loneliness, I found, was admitting it to me. It was an acknowledgment of the hole inside of me- the hole that I could not fill. And perhaps the strangest thing about loneliness was that even after I admitted my loneliness to my closest friends, even after they promised me that all would be well and that I wouldn’t be alone forever, I still felt alone. I had been reassured that I wasn’t alone by the simple fact that my friends cared enough to talk with me. Yet still I felt alone.
Loneliness is hard to describe, probably due to the fact that I was never actually alone when I felt the feeling most acutely. I always had my roommate, my three best girl friends and a guy friend. My sisters were not far away, and my mother was always up for a phone conversation. This was how I discovered that there is one cure for loneliness. The cure may change over time, but at any given moment, there is only ever a single cure. That single cure is a person.
I think loneliness is also due to jealousy. I hate to admit that I have felt jealousy towards my friends, but to claim anything different would simply be a lie. Each of my friends had someone they could turn to who was fairly nearby. My cure was half-way across the nation, living an hour ahead of me, and busy beyond belief. In reality, the loneliness didn’t hit me until I realized the directions we were heading in. I realized that with the work schedule my cure was leaning towards, they would have almost no time at all to talk with me. I realized with a pained revelation that I was going to lose them.
Perhaps loneliness, while also being that empty feeling in the pit of your stomach that you somehow know is not hunger, is also a fear. It is a fear that things will never be how they used to be. “No matter how we try, we can’t go back,” as Margaret Hale said in BBC’s version of North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. Loneliness is a sort of ache. It’s an ache of heart, body and mind. I think loneliness and depression, as they do not go hand in hand, are often confused with each other. My sister, unaware of everything that was going in my life at the time, knowing only the fact that I didn’t like the school I was attending, diagnosed me with depression. Not serious depression, of course, but depression nonetheless. At that point, I would not say that I was lonely. The loneliness was kind enough to join me later in the year- about two and a half weeks later, to be precise.
Loneliness can be conquered to a point. It can be ignored, pushed aside by other work. It can be channeled into more useful things- such as stories that all of your friends say will be published, but deep down you know they never will, because you don’t have the courage to do it. Yes, loneliness can be pondered over and deeply analyzed like this, but personally I would not advise this method. Thinking too much on any given topic had proven to have very negative side effects- especially if you’re as bitter a person as I am. Also, listening to sad music is probably not the best solution. The best advice I can give is that you find your cure. Hopefully they will live in the same time zone as you. If not, do your best with what you can. Fight through every three days and be saved by them just before it all comes crashing down.
Be careful where you step, young one. The water is only shallow for so long.
28 May 2010
Notes on Pessimism
Pessimism is certainly not the worst condition a person could have. After all, what is pessimism but a severe case of idealism? If you look at all of the other things that you could have, be it schizophrenia or cancer, pessimism looks pretty dang good. I suppose I’m more here to talk about idealism- how it causes pessimism, anyway. It’s an interesting enough topic, and I find it consuming many of my moments of thought.
This is the time at which I would love to talk about the origins of idealistic study: in 1736, a man named…; however, there really is no history to idealistic study. If I were to tell you that idealistic study began with me, I would probably be wrong. On that same note, I would probably be wrong to say it began with any other specific person. Honestly, I think about idealism just about as often as Plato thought about the four elements- in other words, enough to be a philosopher on the subject.
Idealists, in the early stages of their career are upset very often and very easily. This is not to say that once they pass this early stage that they are never disappointed or upset, but the caliber of these feelings is significantly lower with each passing day. Idealists envision the world as it “should” be (according to their perspective). This includes all matter of subjects; ranging from world peace, to health care reform, to the number and gender of children. What I have just described is what many people would call “woman.” Anyone who takes the description I just wrote and tags it as “woman” deserves to die. Many women are what I like to call “romantics.” There is a key and important difference between idealists and romantics, which I will try and remember to discuss later on.
Perhaps the problem with idealists is that they see world as something that is totally and completely logical, when in fact the world is created with anything but logic. Yes, the evolution of creatures is a fairly logical process, but it is mastered by the environment- which, might I remind you, is completely unpredictable. If something is unpredictable, we can hardly call it logical. As such, idealists are often disappointed with what they encounter in the “real world.” And thus, a pessimist is born.
What I find most miraculous is when an idealist remains an idealist and yet does not become a pessimist. The questions of fate, freewill and luck suddenly become more than questions, but actual thoughts with processes that form and alter with time and study. Being an idealist and a pessimist myself, I find it highly unlikely that these people are lucky, but rather that they are naïve- they simply don’t realize that nothing works out the way it should.
Now, as promised, I shall discuss the difference between a romantic and an idealist. It is true that many idealists are romantics, but a romantic is not necessarily an idealist- kind of like how a square is a rectangle but a rectangle is not a square. Romantics have an idea in their head as to what should happen in the world, however, they do not rely quite so much upon the successful happening of these ideas. While a romantic will look at a situation and see what should happen, an idealist looks at a situation and sees what must happen. Idealists fill their theories with logic and reason while romantics simply have the ideas. Essentially, romantics are people who think idealistically; idealists are people who live idealistically. The result is one group that is mentally happy and another that is mentally disappointed.
Pessimism is not always a bad thing. In fact, pessimists are more fun to surprise because they are so thrilled by the fact that something in the imperfect world in which they are forced to live made them happy. Pessimists are not people suffering from depression, they are more similar to people with depressive personalities. I know, the difference seems hardly noticeable, but it is a crucial one. The point is, if you have a friend who is a pessimist and they seem to be having a bad day, don’t treat them they way you would someone who is suffering from depression, as you are more likely to cause the depression than cure the depressive feeling that may or may not have been there to begin with. The best way to deal with a pessimistic friend is to treat them like any other friend. What a concept, right? Who would have thought that we would be just like regular humans too?
Be careful where you step, young one. The water is only shallow for so long.
This is the time at which I would love to talk about the origins of idealistic study: in 1736, a man named…; however, there really is no history to idealistic study. If I were to tell you that idealistic study began with me, I would probably be wrong. On that same note, I would probably be wrong to say it began with any other specific person. Honestly, I think about idealism just about as often as Plato thought about the four elements- in other words, enough to be a philosopher on the subject.
Idealists, in the early stages of their career are upset very often and very easily. This is not to say that once they pass this early stage that they are never disappointed or upset, but the caliber of these feelings is significantly lower with each passing day. Idealists envision the world as it “should” be (according to their perspective). This includes all matter of subjects; ranging from world peace, to health care reform, to the number and gender of children. What I have just described is what many people would call “woman.” Anyone who takes the description I just wrote and tags it as “woman” deserves to die. Many women are what I like to call “romantics.” There is a key and important difference between idealists and romantics, which I will try and remember to discuss later on.
Perhaps the problem with idealists is that they see world as something that is totally and completely logical, when in fact the world is created with anything but logic. Yes, the evolution of creatures is a fairly logical process, but it is mastered by the environment- which, might I remind you, is completely unpredictable. If something is unpredictable, we can hardly call it logical. As such, idealists are often disappointed with what they encounter in the “real world.” And thus, a pessimist is born.
What I find most miraculous is when an idealist remains an idealist and yet does not become a pessimist. The questions of fate, freewill and luck suddenly become more than questions, but actual thoughts with processes that form and alter with time and study. Being an idealist and a pessimist myself, I find it highly unlikely that these people are lucky, but rather that they are naïve- they simply don’t realize that nothing works out the way it should.
Now, as promised, I shall discuss the difference between a romantic and an idealist. It is true that many idealists are romantics, but a romantic is not necessarily an idealist- kind of like how a square is a rectangle but a rectangle is not a square. Romantics have an idea in their head as to what should happen in the world, however, they do not rely quite so much upon the successful happening of these ideas. While a romantic will look at a situation and see what should happen, an idealist looks at a situation and sees what must happen. Idealists fill their theories with logic and reason while romantics simply have the ideas. Essentially, romantics are people who think idealistically; idealists are people who live idealistically. The result is one group that is mentally happy and another that is mentally disappointed.
Pessimism is not always a bad thing. In fact, pessimists are more fun to surprise because they are so thrilled by the fact that something in the imperfect world in which they are forced to live made them happy. Pessimists are not people suffering from depression, they are more similar to people with depressive personalities. I know, the difference seems hardly noticeable, but it is a crucial one. The point is, if you have a friend who is a pessimist and they seem to be having a bad day, don’t treat them they way you would someone who is suffering from depression, as you are more likely to cause the depression than cure the depressive feeling that may or may not have been there to begin with. The best way to deal with a pessimistic friend is to treat them like any other friend. What a concept, right? Who would have thought that we would be just like regular humans too?
Be careful where you step, young one. The water is only shallow for so long.
21 May 2010
Notes on Love
The words need to be said. Yet I am too afraid to say them.
I wish so badly that I could see him. Just see him. Ok, not just see him. Talk to him. I long to talk to him. Somehow he always has the answer. And I could really use and answer right about now. But I will have to wait. And I will wait. I will close my eyes and listen to the soft, sad music pouring out of my soul while I wait in the dark abyss of unanswerable loss. Until he comes. He will enter like a crack lightening, flashing across the black clouded sky, shining a bright white light on everything in reach--the light that, until I met him, I never wanted to see. The light that would burn every time it touched me. The light that would expose me for...
He's here. It's amazing. The music did not change, but somehow it feels happier. I can no longer see myself as that wretched thing I was about to describe. Suddenly I feel light--as though I could pick up my feet and float away. I feel beautiful. I feel loved. Yet I don't know that he does. Love me, I mean. Yet somehow, when he is near, I feel content. No, more than content. There must be something there. What else would light up a room so? I'd call it love. I dare to call it love.
"Is love a fancy or a feeling?"
It's funny. When beginning this analytical, I looked up the word "fancy," to be sure I had my perception of the word's meaning correct. The 9th definition listed was a single word: LOVE. Inspired by this interesting attempt at defining a word that is itself so indefinable, I looked up LOVE. No where did I find that word "feeling" in those definitions, nor did I truly expect to. The writers of the dictionary would have been fools to include the word "feeling" in one of their definitions of "love." And yet, the word was implied.
I guess I don't think of love as a fancy or a feeling. I do not truly believe that you can truly love a completely inanimate object. Very few would dare to disagree that when they love an object, it either has a personality attached to it, a memory associated with it, or it symbolises a living being in their minds.
I wish so badly that I could see him. Just see him. Ok, not just see him. Talk to him. I long to talk to him. Somehow he always has the answer. And I could really use and answer right about now. But I will have to wait. And I will wait. I will close my eyes and listen to the soft, sad music pouring out of my soul while I wait in the dark abyss of unanswerable loss. Until he comes. He will enter like a crack lightening, flashing across the black clouded sky, shining a bright white light on everything in reach--the light that, until I met him, I never wanted to see. The light that would burn every time it touched me. The light that would expose me for...
He's here. It's amazing. The music did not change, but somehow it feels happier. I can no longer see myself as that wretched thing I was about to describe. Suddenly I feel light--as though I could pick up my feet and float away. I feel beautiful. I feel loved. Yet I don't know that he does. Love me, I mean. Yet somehow, when he is near, I feel content. No, more than content. There must be something there. What else would light up a room so? I'd call it love. I dare to call it love.
"Is love a fancy or a feeling?"
It's funny. When beginning this analytical, I looked up the word "fancy," to be sure I had my perception of the word's meaning correct. The 9th definition listed was a single word: LOVE. Inspired by this interesting attempt at defining a word that is itself so indefinable, I looked up LOVE. No where did I find that word "feeling" in those definitions, nor did I truly expect to. The writers of the dictionary would have been fools to include the word "feeling" in one of their definitions of "love." And yet, the word was implied.
I guess I don't think of love as a fancy or a feeling. I do not truly believe that you can truly love a completely inanimate object. Very few would dare to disagree that when they love an object, it either has a personality attached to it, a memory associated with it, or it symbolises a living being in their minds.
Love. What an obscure thing. Love is one of the few things that psychologists simply cannot reason out. Yes, it is caused by some function of the brain, but why? Why do we have crushes and infatuations, and how are they different from love? Of course, asking this question is fruitless. No studies can truly prove any answer, let alone the answer. Some people are attracted to those similar to themselves, others feel quite the opposite. Some people take years to fall in love while others take mere moments. The variation in love is, I think, what makes it so impossible to define and even harder to study. No two people love in exactly the same way. Some people like the "bad" boy or girl, others like the "funny one" and still others prefer the "smart one." So why are we so susceptible to this indefinable feeling of love? Perhaps it is true that humans are not the only species who are affected by it. Regardless, as is often the case, I think it is safe to say that we are the only species foolish enough to try and define it. Love is fairly east to define as a verb. It isn't until we attempt to define it as a noun that we stump ourselves. Love is neither a fancy nor a feeling, for it is that which we love. Part of the reason love seems so impossible to define is because one cannot simply say that which we love and get away with it. People would claim that the definition only covered love in the form of a subject. Most, if not all, of us were trained from an early age to never define a word with the word. Even I am having trouble explaining this, and I know exactly what I'm talking about.
If love were a single, identical feeling or impulse no matter with whom we were, it would be as easy to define as peanut butter. Peanut butter, after all, is still peanut butter, no matter what you put it on (or vise verse). But love... love is different for every person. The love that we feel changes from one person to another in our list of friends, family and acquaintances. What is the love for your mother? Well, it's the way she squeezes you when you walk in the door after being gone at college for a few weeks; it's the smell on her clothes when she's cooking dinner; it's the lone of her voice when she calls your name.
As much as I would love to clap my hands together, grin and say "case closed," I am aware that defining a word with itself is the worst of all dictionary sins. So what is love really? Love is the perception of the world around oneself when in the presence of a particular other being. The story at the top of the post illustrates this quite nicely. Nothing really changes in the world when he enters the scene, but everything changes. Suddenly the sad music makes her happy; the room is lit with a soft light rather than the harsh interrogation light that preceded it. And this, it is love. Had someone else entered this particular scene, the results would have different. This is where it gets interesting. If someone else had entered, the light may have seemed harsher, maybe the music would eat away at her soul, and she would sit in the corner and cringe.
Love is hate is love.
"Be careful where you step, young one; the water is only shallow for so long."
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