Seriously, is no one else aggravated by this. You always watch films, read books, listen to music about people who are clueless in their life, but it always seems so fatuous with them.
It's all really superficial as they fret over should they or shouldn't they have a career, but it's the principle of this entire life that bugs me.
If i do or do not settle down what difference will it make at the end of the day. It's times like these that i feel so insecure about my existence. My confidence in myself and my abilities will very rarely - if ever - fall short of my expectations, but the notion of a life, a standard 90 year life, amounting to absolutely nothing is mind blowing.
I'm certain if more people took the time out of their day to think about the idea of a pointless life, not many people would get any work done. To think that even the people who claimed to have truly "lived" in this life end up going the same way as the rest of us will: alone with no REAL impact on the rest of the world.
As revolutionary as Martin Luther King jr was at the end of the day, if he never had that dream, guess what? Someone else would have. If Einstein had never pondered the ramifications of a universe centred around relativity, someone else would have. If Stephen Hawking never coins the theory of everything...sooner or later, someone else will.
As a species unified we achieve very little day in day out. As individual nations we achieve significantly less day in day out. And as an individual - with no one else with whom we can unite and pool our daily achievements, activities, experiences and lessons - our day to day goings pale in significance to anything substantial.
I've got myself a bucket list, a list of things i want to do before i die...what difference will that list make to the world if i never see them out. What if i never bungy jump, what if i never visit china, what if i never have a threesome. It won't matter to me when i'm 6 feet under, churning over, decomposing and adding to the circle of life. And it won't matter to the bungy jump workers whether they get to meet me or not; whether china gets some of my hard earned cash or not; nor will it matter to those two girls if they ever engage in a night of coital relations or not.
At the end of the day what matters?
So i didn't end up getting published, so i didn't get to see my book on shelves all around the world, so Stephen King didn't end up writing my blurbs, so I didn't get a cheque that would financially secure me for life.
Wherever i walk in life, does it really make a difference.
Existence bugs me. I can't get my head around the concept. I learnt a long time ago that there is no black and white in this world. Nothing is that simple. There are no certainties; there are just grey areas...all over.
If there is a god what was his purpose, if there isn't a God can i accept that all this came about by chance.
Will any of this life linger in something that could be slightly referred to as a mind when i die? Will i remember fondly on the good times i have had from the perspective of some existential form of being?
Will i become the stars and look down on the earth and see everyone making the same mistakes i made, fretting just like i did as i calmly sit back knowing it'll be "alright"?
Will the worms that eat me - just for a second - get a taste of my life, my experiences, my memories and feel what it was to be me?
I never know what i'm essentially trying to say when i think like this. I'm thinking all the things everyone else thinks, i'm sure...only i put it more eloquently than some and not as so as others.
At the end of the day, it's people like me who end up over-thinking these things, and eventually are prescribed cannabis to alleviate such intense insomnia driven nights.
What is it they say? C'est la vie. I always think of that Irish girl group when i say "C'est la vie"...what were they called? Bewitched!!! That's them...
Friday, 24 June 2011
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
This Stubborn Life...
What brings on the most recent rant, otherwise socially accepted these days as a "blog"?
Seems my sister, 3 years my senior, is pregnant. She has an 'It' inside of her. She's married. She lives in a nice place with her husband. They have 2 cars, 2 jobs a bunch of friends they see every week and have done so for years.
Her little brother on the other hand is somewhat different: Never aided in the creation of another being. Never been in a long term relationship, never has a steady long term job, has no vehicle to his name and his old friends (although, stay as so, for a long time on facebook) never really see him for long periods of times because they they barely have time to scratch across his radar before he runs off again to another part of the world making new friends who will remain just that because he never sticks around long enough for the to become old friends.
He sits there sometimes, contemplating a life of abnegation, deploring the concept, the NOTION of it in substitution of the life he has now, but he also asks himself:
What kind of an uncle will i be?
Will i be the cool uncle, the fun uncle, the one 'It' wishes 'It' could live with?
Or will i be that uncle that they never see, never really think about and never really crops up in their mind?
I live a life of freedom, no doubt, i do what i want, but it is detrimental to my functionality. "Freedom" or "freedumb" one could ask.
Am i sacrificing a life that i should be living? What do i constantly get from running away all the time? I'll tell you what it gets me: a broader horizon, a different set of fleeting friends every 12 months who end up settling down while i go off and attest that the life I'm living is a glamorous one, when in fact - as notoriously itchy-footed as i get - i never get a feeling of stability.
I don't half moan sometimes, but i know if i was at home i wouldn't be doing the things I'm doing out here. I wouldn't be having the fun I'm having now, I'd be stuck indoors in a 9-5 (or worse, a 2pm-2am) living the same routine everyday of wasting hours on the computer, masturbating profusely to my abject fantasies of whorish malignancy and only ever socialising with two of my closest friends: my mum and dad.
Nay, i do not protest to having my mum and dad as part of my list of closest friends, i am in fact privileged to have such a relationship with the hands that fed me, but i don't see them having the same social life with their parents - it's just not healthy. The sapling must flock the nest...or some other analogy that would be mildly accurate and germane to this abomination of my not-even 1/3 life crisis I claim to go through sometimes.
I genuinely believe i am not even a third of the way through my life yet. If i were already at my third of my life span then I'd die at 84. So what is it about society that demands i should already be settled down and if not already then i should spend no more than the next 5-10 years before i really settle down and get it sorted.
So, if i settle by the time I'm 38, what will that get me? I'll have another 50 years (give or take) of settlement.
What the hell do you do with your life in that time? Pay bills? Raise offspring? Compromise your dreams, desires, fantasies and conceded to a life of monotonous procurement and desolate thoughts of monogamy, selflessness and gardening with a day or two there of painting and decorating? To deciding whether to change the car after 8 years of chauffeuring the little bastards in the back seat or to run it into the ground and get your money's worth?
I don't really want to play make-believe at Christmas and save for half the year just so the kids can have a "special Christmas". I don't want meetings with the bank manager about my mortgage. This is not how i want to spend the prime of my life. I'll happily start doing that when I'm truly tired of the person i am now (my 50s maybe?) and the life I'm currently living, when all I'll want to do is actually settle down, because i have no qualms in saying that WILL happen. I just don't want to be pressured or guilted into feeling that i should be thinking about that now. In my 20s - albeit late 20s.
So here's what I'm proposing. I'm only going to start living the life I'm so vehemently battling against right now, when I'm sick of living the way I've been doing for the past few years; when i want some stability, when all i want is a routine.
Then, maybe then my niece/nephew will get to know me and by that time i will not be the fun uncle, I'm afraid. I'll be the uncle dedicated to his passion as he once was as a vivid youngster. Die a family man in a stable life or die alone doing what i want to do. Such is life. I'd choose no other way.
Seems my sister, 3 years my senior, is pregnant. She has an 'It' inside of her. She's married. She lives in a nice place with her husband. They have 2 cars, 2 jobs a bunch of friends they see every week and have done so for years.
Her little brother on the other hand is somewhat different: Never aided in the creation of another being. Never been in a long term relationship, never has a steady long term job, has no vehicle to his name and his old friends (although, stay as so, for a long time on facebook) never really see him for long periods of times because they they barely have time to scratch across his radar before he runs off again to another part of the world making new friends who will remain just that because he never sticks around long enough for the to become old friends.
He sits there sometimes, contemplating a life of abnegation, deploring the concept, the NOTION of it in substitution of the life he has now, but he also asks himself:
What kind of an uncle will i be?
Will i be the cool uncle, the fun uncle, the one 'It' wishes 'It' could live with?
Or will i be that uncle that they never see, never really think about and never really crops up in their mind?
I live a life of freedom, no doubt, i do what i want, but it is detrimental to my functionality. "Freedom" or "freedumb" one could ask.
Am i sacrificing a life that i should be living? What do i constantly get from running away all the time? I'll tell you what it gets me: a broader horizon, a different set of fleeting friends every 12 months who end up settling down while i go off and attest that the life I'm living is a glamorous one, when in fact - as notoriously itchy-footed as i get - i never get a feeling of stability.
I don't half moan sometimes, but i know if i was at home i wouldn't be doing the things I'm doing out here. I wouldn't be having the fun I'm having now, I'd be stuck indoors in a 9-5 (or worse, a 2pm-2am) living the same routine everyday of wasting hours on the computer, masturbating profusely to my abject fantasies of whorish malignancy and only ever socialising with two of my closest friends: my mum and dad.
Nay, i do not protest to having my mum and dad as part of my list of closest friends, i am in fact privileged to have such a relationship with the hands that fed me, but i don't see them having the same social life with their parents - it's just not healthy. The sapling must flock the nest...or some other analogy that would be mildly accurate and germane to this abomination of my not-even 1/3 life crisis I claim to go through sometimes.
I genuinely believe i am not even a third of the way through my life yet. If i were already at my third of my life span then I'd die at 84. So what is it about society that demands i should already be settled down and if not already then i should spend no more than the next 5-10 years before i really settle down and get it sorted.
So, if i settle by the time I'm 38, what will that get me? I'll have another 50 years (give or take) of settlement.
What the hell do you do with your life in that time? Pay bills? Raise offspring? Compromise your dreams, desires, fantasies and conceded to a life of monotonous procurement and desolate thoughts of monogamy, selflessness and gardening with a day or two there of painting and decorating? To deciding whether to change the car after 8 years of chauffeuring the little bastards in the back seat or to run it into the ground and get your money's worth?
I don't really want to play make-believe at Christmas and save for half the year just so the kids can have a "special Christmas". I don't want meetings with the bank manager about my mortgage. This is not how i want to spend the prime of my life. I'll happily start doing that when I'm truly tired of the person i am now (my 50s maybe?) and the life I'm currently living, when all I'll want to do is actually settle down, because i have no qualms in saying that WILL happen. I just don't want to be pressured or guilted into feeling that i should be thinking about that now. In my 20s - albeit late 20s.
So here's what I'm proposing. I'm only going to start living the life I'm so vehemently battling against right now, when I'm sick of living the way I've been doing for the past few years; when i want some stability, when all i want is a routine.
Then, maybe then my niece/nephew will get to know me and by that time i will not be the fun uncle, I'm afraid. I'll be the uncle dedicated to his passion as he once was as a vivid youngster. Die a family man in a stable life or die alone doing what i want to do. Such is life. I'd choose no other way.
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