I seem to start out most Saturdays now writing a blog entry that I later finish sometime Sunday, so I don't know why that budding tradition should change now.
It's spring break. Nominally, anyway. It will mostly be filled with the compilation, construction, and production of my Action Research Project and the procrastination thereof, but I'll get to sleep late and my failure will be the things of slow drops rather than torrential cascades. It's the small things that keep you going, you know?
I had sushi with my main homegirl KB mid-week. KB and I have rather similar backgrounds (particularly in terms of parental profile), and we have comparable personality dispositions. Thee are obvious and notable discrepancies, but she is one of those rare people who I feel like I can and should talk to, openly and assertively, without evading and worrying. I think it has to do with being as evasive as I can often be, mutually recognizing it, and having nowhere else to go but into realms so often left uncharted by both of us.
At any rate, I was talking to her about hidden emotional pain and how it's something I'm truly passionate about. The silence and shame surrounding emotional trauma/wounds/whatever you want to call the dark undercurrents that swirl around one's soul are one of the more perfidious problems of our society (or at least middle class society). There's some visibility in the spectacle of television, but I get so much of a sense of "quiet desperation" with too little release that I can't help but want to do something about it.
It's the silent victims of rape, of abuse, of alcoholism, of alcoholic parents, of depression, of low self-esteem, of doubt, of jealousy, of paranoia, of so much more that bother me. I want more publicity, I want more acceptance, I want to treat sincerely and authentically the issues that actually make a demonstrable difference in the lives of others. It's almost like emotional activism. I got so passionate talking to KB about it, I just knew that it was something I cared and believed in so much more than what I'm doing now. And I need to find a way to channel that.
There are times when I feel singularly alone and dejected. I'm listening to The Killers right now, but it's often hard because many of their songs have such strong senses of pain and desolation that I don't want to expose myself to the possibility of such feelings never ending unless I have the assurance of someone loving me (in the same way it's ok to rewatch a close sports game when you know you're going to win in the end).
But the world can be a beautiful, sweet place. One of my favorite bloggers is David Rees who made a name for himself satirizing Bush's administration with his "Get Your War On" comic. He's lower key now, but his sense of humor is really interesting. He has these things called "Friday Face Offs" where he looks at seven or so youtube videos covering songs by popular artists. There's a bit of mocking of some of the performances, and he does so often hilariously. But there's also a sense of saluting the average human experience while accessing universal emotions through songs that convey them. For instance, in the 2nd place spot, there's a video of a quite pedestrian performance. But Rees focuses on the bass player who is really getting into the music. Rees focuses upon the small joy of the individual, softly mocking but not unkindly.
Youtube's a democratic medium, as much about the small and shared experiences as the viral sensations. And that's the type of life and world I envision. One that engages the universal while smiling at the small ironies and eccentricities. There's so much sadness and darkness that I want to explore and fight, but I want to do so with a hope and faith that the world is a good place with good but all too often hurt people. A candle in the darkness, but a light nonetheless.
I want that. I want to live and flow through a world like that. I want to fight for a world like that. I want to struggle for it, cry for it, yearn for it, and build it. I want to fight the darkness and empower others to do the same. It's the fight I want to fight. It's not quite an optimistic vision, but it's resilient. I want it. I just hope I'm working towards getting there.
It's spring break. Nominally, anyway. It will mostly be filled with the compilation, construction, and production of my Action Research Project and the procrastination thereof, but I'll get to sleep late and my failure will be the things of slow drops rather than torrential cascades. It's the small things that keep you going, you know?
I had sushi with my main homegirl KB mid-week. KB and I have rather similar backgrounds (particularly in terms of parental profile), and we have comparable personality dispositions. Thee are obvious and notable discrepancies, but she is one of those rare people who I feel like I can and should talk to, openly and assertively, without evading and worrying. I think it has to do with being as evasive as I can often be, mutually recognizing it, and having nowhere else to go but into realms so often left uncharted by both of us.
At any rate, I was talking to her about hidden emotional pain and how it's something I'm truly passionate about. The silence and shame surrounding emotional trauma/wounds/whatever you want to call the dark undercurrents that swirl around one's soul are one of the more perfidious problems of our society (or at least middle class society). There's some visibility in the spectacle of television, but I get so much of a sense of "quiet desperation" with too little release that I can't help but want to do something about it.
It's the silent victims of rape, of abuse, of alcoholism, of alcoholic parents, of depression, of low self-esteem, of doubt, of jealousy, of paranoia, of so much more that bother me. I want more publicity, I want more acceptance, I want to treat sincerely and authentically the issues that actually make a demonstrable difference in the lives of others. It's almost like emotional activism. I got so passionate talking to KB about it, I just knew that it was something I cared and believed in so much more than what I'm doing now. And I need to find a way to channel that.
There are times when I feel singularly alone and dejected. I'm listening to The Killers right now, but it's often hard because many of their songs have such strong senses of pain and desolation that I don't want to expose myself to the possibility of such feelings never ending unless I have the assurance of someone loving me (in the same way it's ok to rewatch a close sports game when you know you're going to win in the end).
But the world can be a beautiful, sweet place. One of my favorite bloggers is David Rees who made a name for himself satirizing Bush's administration with his "Get Your War On" comic. He's lower key now, but his sense of humor is really interesting. He has these things called "Friday Face Offs" where he looks at seven or so youtube videos covering songs by popular artists. There's a bit of mocking of some of the performances, and he does so often hilariously. But there's also a sense of saluting the average human experience while accessing universal emotions through songs that convey them. For instance, in the 2nd place spot, there's a video of a quite pedestrian performance. But Rees focuses on the bass player who is really getting into the music. Rees focuses upon the small joy of the individual, softly mocking but not unkindly.
Youtube's a democratic medium, as much about the small and shared experiences as the viral sensations. And that's the type of life and world I envision. One that engages the universal while smiling at the small ironies and eccentricities. There's so much sadness and darkness that I want to explore and fight, but I want to do so with a hope and faith that the world is a good place with good but all too often hurt people. A candle in the darkness, but a light nonetheless.
I want that. I want to live and flow through a world like that. I want to fight for a world like that. I want to struggle for it, cry for it, yearn for it, and build it. I want to fight the darkness and empower others to do the same. It's the fight I want to fight. It's not quite an optimistic vision, but it's resilient. I want it. I just hope I'm working towards getting there.
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