30.10.10 § 9

I'm tired of the rah-rah sentiment rallying cry of all the can-do spirits out there. I mean, man, where's the acid and bile we're supposed to be spewing?

Emo has gotten a bad rap between sarcastic/acerbic/ironic/sardonic/self-deprecating detachment and apathy, and earnest/unadulterated/purportedly genuine/ultimately maddening proselytizing.

People are just too cool for genuine sentiment now. Everything has to be wrapped up in and leavened with either a level of nonchalance — they care but at the same time they don't, acting as if they're fine either way — or, zealotry — this is the way and you'd better get your ass behind us or you'd be doomed to perdition.

I can't have any of this. I fancy myself a tortured soul. I also harbor an intense fear of being nothing but a pretentious son of a bitch. As always, up in the air.

Yes, I hurt. From what? I dunno. I'm terrified most of the time. Of what? No idea. Does not knowing make me a fraud? The much-dreaded poseur? No. It just makes the pain and fear all the more intense and debilitating.

I have these simultaneous sensations of being untethered, floating and hovering over my own life; and of being shackled to and bogged down by the ball and chain of the minutiae of this existence.

I fancy myself a tortured soul. And it is hard work. Alternating moods of self-contentment, paranoia, and indifference. But then again as most sane people would point out, I could just be silly, stupid, or worse, lazy.

Is this too teenage-angsty? Juvenile? Is questioning everything a hallmark of maturity? Or, is compromise the sure sign of graduation into adulthood or does it signify the death of one's (pardon the term) soul, on the way to being the automaton that everyone will eventually be and later on, regret?

Isn't there a bravery in choosing to do nothing, in accepting failure and defeat? I think so. Because in the end, we will not survive this life. So in a way, you are just being proactive, preemptive.

What's this?

You are currently reading e-motes at Shit-Faced Grin.


§ 9 Response to “e-motes”

  • Momel says:

    Nope, it's a ball short of a pair. What bravery is there in yielding? Cheer up, you.

  • Pardon the melancholia. I don't know what's come over me for the past two, three days. You're right, there's no fun in being a pussy. Cheers. :D

  • pat says:

    you think and emote too much. i like that you're brave enough to say these and be in a humorous/nasty mood as to make potshots at people who are 'too cool for genuine sentiments', but i hope one day you can look back at this post of yours and not cringe at the sight of 'tortured soul'. but if you feel really, really down, and you really mean these, i hope you get out of it soon. and i say this with affection. as someone who's emoted the hell out of each and every post back when it was convenient to do so, i think i understand u, sort of. you're actually good at this. :)

  • @Pat
    Yes, I admit I think and emote to such a level that I feel I might scare people off. Why do you think I've taken to the Marijuana-Think concept so much? Hehe.

    Of course I'd cringe at tortured soul when I look back on it. That's another thing I'm especially good at. But as of this moment, I stand by it.

    I fluctuate. I've been down in the dumps/stuck in a rut for quite a while but it's not like an uninterrupted procession of this shitty stuff. I do feel okay from time to time, but the gloom limns these 'good' moments.

    Thanks for the concern. And the compliment. Hehe.

    Cheers. :D

  • pat says:

    what's your lj? that's a more conducive platform for emoting. that's where i do mine.

  • I deleted my LJ when I decided to blog again. I imported all the files onto here. :)

  • Romanticism, as formerly defined, is a fascination with the emotional. To be truly, definitively romantic in the time of Shakespeare meant to be absolutely conceding to the action of emotion. If it were pain, relish every sharp stab and gut-wrenching grief, if it were ecstasy, it meant the world-shattering, mind-blowing, reality-altering sort of ecstasy, if it were love, it must be blind, consuming and outright selfless, professed in all the niceties and elaborate demonstrations both physical, and literary.

    The life of a romantic is a life lived with passion.

    But sometimes, passion in all its utopian dispositions, may lead to a credulous purgatory. There is merit in the consideration of an alternate perspective. Not necessarily the cynical, or worse stoic, but a healthy balance of disbelief and conviction. It is in our nature, free will willing, to question the reality we inhabit, if not to validate our belief in it, then maybe to seek proof of its, this here’s, veracity. That by allowing one the indecision afforded by our youth, provides abatement from a supposed threat of automaton-ism.

    The inquisitive could be both juvenile and jaded when not held in check. If by questioning, we seek enlightenment then it is mature, if by indecision we seek a more convincing cause to pursue, then it too could be mature. But maturity in itself is never the ultimate objective.

    I’d like to live my life with the level-headedness maturity can provide but of the same awe and bewilderment only youth can inspire. Again, it is a matter of balance, an equilibrium, that elixir of youth that does not turn back aging, but rather allows us to physiologically be indicative of our own internal age.

    Do not worry of the fluctuations. It only proves your incredulity. In this consciousness of in-the-minute commitments, this may prove your most protective sheath. That capacity to change, adapt, evolve and consequently question what life presents us with.

    Fear is actually good, sometimes. It proves you still have something to lose, and more importantly, something to gain. Just don’t let it devour you.

  • i agree with pat's compliment. nice rant.

    i, too, once fancied myself as a tortured soul. as i grew old i realised i was just both tortured and torturer. not to (what do you call it?) proselytize. so i'll shut up except for one thing:

    it is the pain that gives birth to the beauty in your writing. so if i were you, i'd embrace the pain.

  • @red
    I agree with everything you said. But I am having trouble with the concepts of balance and equilibrium. The alchemy of striking that nearly perfect confluence of disbelief and conviction is something I cannot even begin to fathom. No one can dictate it to me, I know. Yet left to my own devices, I find myself beginning to gasp for an air of clarity that my gloom and doom is throttling out of my system. I can only aspire for the awe and bewilderment that can temper my destructive tendencies.

    Don't worry, I am trying my damndest to embrace the pain. :)

    And please feel free to speak your mind. The proselytizing dig was not meant to be a gag order shielding me from, say, contrarian views. I actually welcome civilized polarity more than feigned gentility.

    Thanks for dropping by. Cheers.

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