Monday, February 19, 2018
Journal writing in the most undervalued form of writing in my opinion and I do have many opinions. From my take on globalization, colonizing Mars, overcoming grief, living life and the very meaning of life, there are few and far between that I really have nothing to say or write about.
As I child I was always plagued with why, so my father brought me a book, Tell me why, then after I devoured that Here’s more tell me why, Lots more tell me why and Still more tell me why. By the time I was 18, there was very little in the world that I did not have an answer to, having read the likes of Napolean Hill’s The law of success when I was 8, I had a well-developed philosophy on life and living. I quoted Carl Jung, talked about psychosymbology, ESP, and thought Confucius was quite spot on.
There wasn’t an adult, besides my parents, who didn’t think I was destined for greatness, I even had a physics teacher who hoped I’d win a Nobel prize. Life had other lessons and plans; I discovered that reading a handful of books did not give me the life skills needed to succeed. While I could indulge in interesting, intellectual and even inspiring conversations, I could not decipher the formula for material success. I was always broke and still am. Every endeavor I make is always regaled as a great effort but it always fails to translate into monetary success.
This monologue has been discharged as a result of a movie that I watched yesterday, a grand experiment on the part of its creator to produce something that defied the norm and dared to investigate with the unknown. The result? A disaster, the masses rejected it, the resistance to be coaxed into the unknown and worse, the idea of letting go of the familiar proved fatal.
I realized the greatest truth in the biggest lie touted in today’s world, Think different, be innovative. What they, the narrators of the world trends, are actually telling you is that we are bored of the same plot lines, impress us but don’t get too different lest we lose the tethers that still determine our identities. For what would society be if in a split second they could let go of all the walls that enclosed their lives and actually stepped out into the Free world of unregulated creativity?
Look at how we see beauty, in lines of symmetry, a mirror image of what we accept repeated to coax us into the comfort of the familiar. I remember staring into the face a beautiful woman troubled that her eyebrows were too large and disproportionate to her delicate face. I was seeking beauty within the confines of what I had categorized as beautiful.
The most beautiful are often a standardized version of the classic beauty with one feature, just one for two is too much, that is different. The typical dark-skinned beauty with striking blue eyes, a typical white beauty with an African hairdo, we seek different within the confines of the familiar.
It brought to mind how the evil masterminds groom their victims, one aspect at a time, they start on a common ground and slowly drip feed their agenda until the victim is a perpetrator.
Even inspirational or motivational thinking has to be based on the familiar, it needs the ladder of common sense or at the very least a promise of a better life, for the mind to accept it.
So where does that leave me? Nowhere, I am where I always was; lost in awe of the human mind that is complex yet stupid.