Posts tagged ‘trapped’

October 10, 2012

Voisez III

I am not here to lecture, for who am I? One of the many unspecials roaming the walk of life, assimilating with the majority, finding its place in society. Being part of the great dramaturgy. Wearing all these masks and goggles exchanging one with the other and on the way collecting more. Learning, as well as advising, at least trying to advise what little we have learned to others that face what we have faced before. To face all with all these synthetic faces. Being, more or less, human.

Depression, one of the most common “mind disease” or commonly referred as disorders. I have seen once, with my own eyes, how depression can really consume someone’s sanity. Knowing this fact, it has always been somewhat a reminder for me, to endlessly seek for better coping mechanisms on how to at least suppress these faceless voices, the hallucination, and the constant overburdening fear and anxiety that comes abrupt and almost unnoticeable. Writing this almost meaningless — and mostly for archival purposes — post is one of them. Pin-pointing where in my life in which I start to feel these insecurities, and analysing what little data there is. As always, the mind is one of the biggest jerks that we face in our lives. In the face of instability it seems that the mind, as illogical as it seems, tries to go against sanity. A very queer mechanism. In the face of high priority problems, the mind just seems to quit, its like there is this sort of “fuck this” switch which could be toggled in an instant without the knowledge of it’s owner. Befell in depression, and just clawing your way out of a well filled with thick mud. Difficult as hell, and the  more we try the more we freak out because somehow it seems to not work. But then we justify ourselves, that this thick mud will soon settle and harden, which means that at least one problem from the eternal shit-list will automatically solve itself, on how to climb out of the well is a completely different problem also nestled somewhere in the eternal shit-list. Do we wait for some good-natured passer by come to the rescue, ladder/rope  in hand? or do we claw our way to the top with the spare energy still left in our souls after struggling just to survive the mud? Again, it is choices, options, wants, and needs. Something so abundant, which for the same reason, becomes the catalyst as well as the obstacle in reaching whatever it is we strive to reach.

There.

Depression averted, for now.

The big bulging feeling inside the head has more or less subsided. The voices squawk no more. Anxiety  lifted by the sound of flutes from my headphone.

Flutes, fucking flutes from a score sheet created hundreds of years past by Mozart.

It takes, an attempted suicide, and a visit to a dear friend in the psychiatric ward, for me at least, to really understand the workings of depression and the struggle to survive this so-called mental illness. To actually survive life, to not give in. To actually put a real meaning to “earning life and all its perks”. We owe ourselves that at least, a chance to earn something. A dream of an average length but fruitful life.

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October 12, 2011

The Worry Reference Guide

The older we are, the more we worry about consequences;

We worry about the future;

We worry about reactions;

We worry about leaving our mobile phones at home;

We worry about leaving our wallets at home;

We worry about leaving our keys at home;

We worry about leaving the house;

We worry about where we parked the car;

We worry about where we put our car keys;

We worry about car accidents;

We worry about not filling enough fuel;

We worry about the yellow fuel  indicator going on and off and no gas station in sight;

We worry about what we eat;

We worry about obesity;

We worry about illnesses caused by obesity;

We worry about being late;

We worry about being neglected;

We worry about being monitored;

We worry about being rejected;

We worry about sin;

We worry  about grace;

We worry about not being thankful;

We worry about the presence of god;

We worry whether if there is a god;

We worry the earth will be hit by a giant meteor;

We worry the earth will be swallowed by the sun;

We worry about food additives;

We worry about cancer;

We worry about AIDS;

We worry about getting her pregnant;

We worry about marriage;

We worry about commitment;

We worry about infidelity;

We worry about being too nice;

We worry about being mean;

We worry about fitting in;

We worry about spending too much;

We worry about the shoes we wear;

We worry about the colour of our shirt;

We worry about which jeans to wear;

We worry about being over-dressed;

We worry about being under-dressed;

We worry about the latest trends;

We worry about what’s hip;

We worry about being hip;

We worry about bands we used to like becoming hip;

We worry about being proven wrong;

We worry about being stingy;

We worry about not making enough money;

We worry about our job security;

We worry about hating our job;

We worry about becoming mindless corporate whores;

We worry about what would happen if we quit our jobs;

We worry about what other people think;

We worry about worrying to much;

We worry about not worrying enough;

We worry about eventually dying and there is nothing we can do;

And we worry about the afterlife;

Or whether there is an afterlife;

Would we go to heaven;

Would we go to hell;

Would we go into limbo;

Would we feel our body rotting;

Would we taste the earth in our mouths;

Would we feel numb;

……………………………;

What would it feel like?

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A worry list, how cliché and unoriginal.

June 22, 2011

From This Height, The 19th Floor, The Centre of It All

From this height the city seems cold, dull, and uninviting. Despite the fact that there, in the middle of commerce, stands a monument with statuettes raising their arms, in a manner of openness and warmth. Still, it seems faked. Despite the fact the architecture of surrounding buildings are magnificent, from here it seems just flat and unattractive. Despite that today is the city’s so called “birthday”, festivities do not promote the surge of euphoria one hopes for. Would it be the thick smog that sucks the very life out of the pedestrians? Or is it just the tenacity of the people, not  to the city, but to the driving force of a band of ever-searching infinite contentment? Or is it just here? The 19th floor?

It feels like, overlooking everything, being in the position of the panoptic, but on the other hand unable to see anything at all. Not because there is nothing in physical form, but because there is nothing of interest to see. Traveling by bus, seeing a lot of people, realizing there are none at all. People stop becoming people as they avoid eye contact, searching aimlessly for a blank spot on the floor or ceiling to focus on, trying to be as cold and closed as they possibly can be. We, of the city, are soulless. We are forced into individuality without the possibility of an individual character. Lemmings. A term some would use that i feel very much fits this phenomenon. Lemmings (the rodents not the video game) are well known to migrate in large groups, blindly following a leader; a trend setter, often to their deaths. Our leader, our trend setter, is fear. This fear is what we follow, a fear to be left out of the group, lonely and isolated. We are ourselves therefore we shall never be alone. We shall never be the same therefore we shall never be alone. We are isolated only in our minds therefore we shall never be alone.

We are similar in variation, by this fact, we will always relate to whatever is thrown at us. To conform is to be fake, to adhere to conformity is to die a non-fatal death. But then again, we enjoy dying, for dying leads to quenching our thirst. Our thirst for establishment. Establishment makes us happy. This is the formula and forever will be true. It comes in many forms: capital, art, goals, epiphanies, welfare. Establishment are these things and more. The popular paradigm is of course capital, for in the modern world capital may allow us to buy other establishments, fulfilling the need to obtain. The city of false hopes and overrated desires. The needs fulfilled temporarily, eternally. Ironic is that i am writing this from the 19th floor, myself contained in the rat race of capital fulfillment. Yet, again paradox interrupts, alas we have our options served and choices made up. We, of the city, the lemmings, the soulless, the blank floor searchers, are addicts of banality and boredom. But in the end we shall survive eventually, more or less intact.

April 19, 2011

“On A Side Note” Quote

It is not about something small and technical. It is about the future of the freedom to be as social beings with each other, and the way information, knowledge and culture will be produced.

(Yochai Benkler, about the battle of context between incumbent and emerging models of production. read: http://goo.gl/cVs2f )

April 14, 2011

The Meaning of “Meaning” …and Many Other Pretentious Existentialist Crap Like That

It  wasn’t the first time they said “We need to meet up, i need you.” but somehow it was the first time I realized I actually meant something. A justifiable boost of ego of course, but nonetheless I have meaning for someone. I account for something.

So,

Meaning.

“What is meaning?”

This phrase is so often in question that  — although never answered — it becomes cliché and jaded, the question of meaning has become meaningless. Based on that particular fact, let us rephrase the question. Instead of asking what it is, we should say “Define meaning!”. Definitions are the closest thing to valid arguments, there is a systematic and logical way of thinking to elaborate these definitions which makes it, well, logical. But trying to be logical in defining meaning would mean that defining meaning is hard, for meaning itself is sometimes illogical (A trinket could at some times be more meaningful than life, a plot of land could be more meaningful than family, financial gain could be more meaningful than friendship, etc. ).  Because of this illogic that attaches itself to meaning, the interconnection lays in its subjective quality.

Something, to us, will have meaning when it has value or function. Say, a safety blanket or a teddy bear; these are things that have emotional values and functions as a comforter. Meaning is constructed by these two factors. Value and function. These are probably why there are terms like “fake friends” or “dysfunctional families” which comes to use. Relationships that contains no value or function whatsoever. Well, maybe a little but probably insignificant to categorize it as meaningful. But again, this is subjective, what is meaningless for one is not always true for others. You can be “fake” for one person and “true” for another, depending on the observers position and opinion.

Then what am I? If I am meaningful, it means that I am merely functional. I am a tool. But if I am not a tool, I am nothing. In nothing we shall perish alone. Not that I want to commit mass suicide and take everyone with me, but it would be great if someone took in kind a memory of me.

Fickle is the mind in understanding the wants and needs. Reorganizing and classifying shifting interchangeable thoughts of  what would matter the least. We, or if you object, I, think too much too often. Over-thinking assumed consequences that probably will never happen. Which comes as an unnecessary safeguard, useless even. But yet, knowing this, we continue to construct thoughts of pessimistic nature just because of the urge of wanting to feel. The need to feel. An addiction to melancholy or at least feeling meaningless, yet at the same time knowing that there is an abundance meaning for some. There are those who have the need to search out for you, a very high valued meaning indeed. The redundancy of feeling self-loath only dismisses the value above. It becomes banal.

Meaning reconstructed: are we truly living a lie?

Since meaning is, at the very beginning, constructed then reconstruction is only a modification of its original form. So may reconstruction aid us into sanity, into inner peace, into a form of conformed redundant jaded banality.

March 17, 2011

Adhere

It is blasphemy, not in a religious sense though. More of a deviation in rationality. Blasphemy in it’s most secular form. What? I cannot truly say, it is a model, a prototype of the extremely profane. It is the epitome of next to nothing. It is the sound of self reassembly, cunningly forming a mould for use in the post-modern era. It is leased life, fully unoriginal, yet accepted by the norms. It is evolution remixed and remastered with a hint of reverberation  and distortion. It is unsalted, bland, yet to a certain degree: a culinary masterpiece. It fits yet it is incompatible. It is the synonym and antonym of all that has been created and destroyed.

Adhere! To those we fail to supply affection and/or apply to. Adhere! For we are misguided freaks craving for attention. Adhere! For we are in a solution of chaos and disinformation.

December 21, 2010

Next To Nothing…

The phrase above does not describe an ordinal position, which commonly refers to: “the best”. No, the phrase above describes more of a value, as in: “in very close proximity to nothingness”.

Definitions explained. Perfect. So, the argument here is how sometimes there is this feeling of being meaningless, a feeling that if untreated undergoes metamorphosis and becomes a condition. What emerges from pessimistic thoughts recreates a fork in reality, one towards “toughen up” and the other being “little pussy”…. The outcome depends solely on the option you choose. This next to nothing syndrome usually displays high levels of anxiety and self-loathing, this is normal, do not be alarmed. What we must do is isolate the source of the “next to nothing” syndrome, the trigger, for this trigger is the cause and the cure, alpha and omega. To activate the curative properties of this trigger we must first confront it, relieving ourselves from all egotistical urges to act high and mighty; to humble for awhile and lay down arms. We are all but meaningless, for meaning may easily be constructed either internally or externally;  revaluing the material, sacred and profane. There is no “one”, it is merely what we limit ourselves to.

This makes no sense.

December 5, 2010

Winning (As In The Eyes of A Child)…

Winning is subjective, an ambiguity. Which  contains the questionable factors of what and how; what do we actually win and how exactly do we win? A statement contrast to popular – and childish – belief of what are we winning and how do we win it? Similar? Well, yes, seemingly, but if we examine closely the latter statement focuses on material values, a tangible object. Where as the former seeks explanation for the meaning, it’s substance. Bear in mind: winning sometimes is a losing battle; it seems that what we win sometimes feel inadequate, not worth the effort, hence it is a loss even though material values are achieved. Personally for me, being at the winning end triggers a slight feeling of loss. Yet, the ego proves strong, denying such grief and calculating the cost-benefit ratio. The benefit precedes.

Or so, I would like to think that.

The win is beneficial in terms that it boosts moral and raise confidence, but there are still these inconsistencies between gloat and guilt. I have won; the other shows a need for me more than i need said other. Logically, i have the upper-hand, but the fact is that losing that someone is still… a loss… a loss intended but alas, a loss nonetheless. And especially since it was predetermined, the guilt seems burdening to a point where the win seems more of a total loss. But we cope, we move on, for many of them come and go; constantly variable. This would probably be what the end of adolescence amounts to: a definitive firm pose in which we obligatorily  carry the weight of the consequences upon ourselves. Neverland has never seemed so far behind.

November 30, 2009

Seul…

It was half past three when i left the coffee shop, 2 hours passed unnoticed, a book in hand speaking of the counter-culture and the co-modification of it. Funny how the world seems to move in a seemingly inconstant rate. How at one time the world seems so slow and motions taking so long to finish, at another time the worlds seems to catch up speed of what it lost. And so here we are, in the accelerated version of slow motion, in the time-lapse video of life and everything contained in a single dense sphere. We are where we are and what we are thanks to the what we did and what we were, what theorist believe that identity is formed by experience and history either individually or collective. We change a lot, redefining ourselves from time to time, and probably I’ve said it  before, but somehow in the end we lapse back to the yearning of our older selves. Something some people call peter pan syndrome, the envy for the lost boys, how they never age and act as simple and as plain as they should be, as should we. We are still the kid back in grade school, the naive boy that receives daily beatings either at home (the perils of little brother) or school.

So why did we stop? why did we stop  pretending to be the cop or the robber, or the princess or the prince, or the over ambitious drag queen? We create our realities, our own identities, being who we are as we used to be… unfake…

April 6, 2009

Twisted, deranged, abstract entities…

… that are ourselves. We somehow find ourselves trapped in these unlikely situations of which a dillema hangs above our heads, threatening our very idealisms versus the easy yet not amusing way out. (pause)  Just me then, weird how we feel this short excitement with a hint of euphoria and falling back into depression once again. These deranging thoughts of miscalculated choices, of rationality gone wrong, and of no one to blame.  But yet we live, and yet we follow through with life as it is. Simple plain feelings of remorse and loss catastrophically mutate into some kind of disastrous self-pity, numbing everything else.