Sunday, October 18, 2009

I wanted Corn Pops, instead

I'm battling my own personal cynicism even as I type out these words because it's probably going to escalate into an immature rant that I'll end up regretting by dawn. But, I've got nothing better to do because sleep won't come, either. Just don't even read it.

What are we doing? It's as vague of an inquiry as is the answer. I ask collectively because we're all of humanity at large, whether admittedly or not, asking the same question. Or, if we're not, we've just become extremely talented hiders. I can't hide for shit. I have this haunting crutch to never be content left wondering why I'm doing something. Not to point the existential finger (or give it to you for that matter), but I just can't help believe that most of us have somehow trapped our minds in the prisons of "job", "family", "accumulation", "retirement", usually in that order. I have nothing against having a family and an income by any means, but why have these things with such beautiful potential become stifling to the wild nature we all know we have? Shouldn't those things held most dear enhance and contribute to something adventurous, full of a visceral urge "to be"? I'm not petitioning to re-write American Beauty or Into the Wild, but my desire to gut and bleed out the status quo dines at a full table.

I've been stuffed with fears and bloated by anxiety for the past couple of years, but now, as my Facebook network has recently changed to "Texas Alum 09", I find (or rather, lose) myself in a panic about what I'm to do with my life. When the hell did circumstances for a twenty-something grow fangs and a wicked grin? Personal responsibilities have morphed into demands for success. Looking at my own life, I see that I'm primed to grow my WASP-y stinger if I want to, but I'm not sure that I want to. And if I choose to challenge that, I know I have institutional standards opposing that decision. Why does my socioeconomic status matter? If I'm not at my projected benchmark for the present quarter of my life, does that mean that I've failed the system? Whoops.

That society and technology are my brutal adversaries means I'm fighting in the clouds. I know that most of what I'm going through, and what many-a-fellow colleagues past and present have experienced, takes place in my soul. Nothing else makes sense. Am I on a "spiritual journey" stopping off at religious 7/11s on the way?

POW! PUNCH! ZOMP! This whole blog post started because I was specifically frustrated with music stuff. That took a few exits, and I ended up thinking about how I feel pressured to "keep up" with technology and society as a whole. I didn't like that idea of chasing after that stuff because I don't give a damn. (Of course, I'm typing on my new MacBook Pro and listening to Bob Dylan being invisibly played off some 'chip' or something). But the disconcerting part translates "the neglect to conform" into "Oh crap...I'm gonna' end up homeless and then get stabbed on the streets of Madrid." (I have no idea what Spain's crime rate is, but the Spanish coast is on my mind). But, minus being murdered, would that be the worst thing possible? The world keeps spinning.

I hate technology and I don't really know why. I hate technological advancements. I hate progression of information. I hate globalization. But I participate in all of these things everyday. What is technology trying to accomplish? (It gets tricky because medical advancements seem legitimate because I'm in the business of saving humans). I just feel we're wearing ourselves thin and then we'll all just implode on one another and then we're all screwed. So what do I usually do in order to save myself from my own cynicism so people won't think I'm nuts? Participate. I'm a sucker for some Althusserian interpellation, and it seems that's where I'm at. Even in my dreams to sell everything, travel, be homeless with a pen and paper, meet new people, etc. etc., I know it's just at the merciful hands of capitalism. Dammit. Even the media encourages me to go for it because they know my leash can't go around the world twice.

Eh, I really don't even feel like finishing this blog because I'm betting maybe three people will read it and just probably pray for me. I didn't mean for that to sound arrogant and resentful or that I'm pushing away God or prayer AT ALL...I know it's all I've got. I want to be clear about that. I'm just articulating that I want yours and my prayer to focus on trust. "Trust" me, I'm well aware that everything I'm writing and thinking about stems from a lack of trust about a million things. Don't pray for me to become responsible or to get prioritized or to finally put sheets on my bed or to take care of myself...if you offer a prayer, let it be--for all of us--just to trust. Trust goodness, trust hope, trust faith.

I'm going into outer space.

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