Thursday, June 05, 2008
Picture time
In my youth, I saw people as strange and intimidating animals. Most humans I interacted with behaved in ways that I did not understand or relate with, so life progressively became more and more like watching a movie or a nature study. My interactions with others metamorphosed into entirely external acts, so that no one was permitted access to my internal world, and I did not seek out a passageway into theirs. I became more disconnected from the shared reality most of my peers were embracing. Things went so far that I eventually found myself completely disassociated from just about everyone around me. The experience evolved into something akin to the oft lamented sense that I was an invisible being moving amongst organic obstacles, rather than just another person moving amidst coconspirators in the human experience.
In high school, I faded into the background almost completely, and became part of the legion of anonymous faces which served as extras in the high drama played out by more popular and more flamboyant teenagers. Such anonymity is one of life's oldest cliches, to the point that feeling alienated has taken on a degree of normalcy. Nonetheless, it was a potent experience for me that defined a large portion of my personality to the present day. I came to understand the power of the human drive for conformity and also came to understand the tragedy of conforming. I did this from a distance, as I had very little ability to interact with my peers with any sort of effectiveness. My assumption was that they knew something I didn't, or couldn't, because their lives seemed utterly foreign to me.
So the choice was conform and embrace the world of who-hooked-up-with-whom-in-a-drunken-stupor-last-weekend-and-who-hates-who-this-week or step outside of all that and take your chances. I was too socially retarded to get laid, so there really wasn't a choice. Of course, no one wanted to be outside, as being outside opened you up to becoming a target, but I managed to meander through high school anonymously and with little drama. I was blessed with above average intelligence, but not to the extent that my IQ scores would qualify me as a genius, so I was just smart enough to realize the absurdity of what was going on around me, but not quite clever enough to exploit or transcend it. My natural reaction was to reject what I saw as base behaviors, but never really found a niche, so I began to conjure up a new reality for myself. Instead of subscribing to the idea that intelligence, introspection, values, dignity, and morality were the things of losers and fools, I chose to embrace these concepts and pursue them in earnest.
Today, I have come to appreciate some of my decisions at that time. It was right to explore the intangibles of my existence in an effort to expand my comprehension of transcendence. I was right to embrace ideals, rather than succumb to the delusions of material existence, but with every positive there is a negative, for every dividend a cost. Things began to feel hopeless. Most of my peers were going one way, and I felt compelled to go the other. Who chose the correct track is debatable. I can say with absolute certainty that my 20s would have been more fun had I embraced the get-drunk-get-laid-have-fun philosophy. That's one thing the masses might have correct, but then I would have had to deal with the compromises and stresses of relationships, so I might look and sound more like my 30-something peers than I would like.
In the end, I'm just not sure I have anything original or useful to say anymore. The fact is, people are generally boring and predictable. As a person, I am not exempt from that. I am so predictable that anyone who has known me for any length of time probably knows what I am going to say before I have finished formulating the thought, which is to say, I am boring and I am bored with myself. At 31 years of age, I find myself in a job I cannot stand, in a pattern of living that is generally uninspiring, and convinced that the only reasonable thing to do is change. Life is very grey and there are very few bright points to offset the haze. I'm tired of words, and more interested in images, so I think I will stop writing for a while and start making pictures.
Labels: life or the lack thereof
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Sounds like a good plan, after all... aren't pictures what you want to do for a living. I guess if you wanted to be a writer, that's what you would have gone to school for. Speaking of pictures, I might enlist your help with the girls room when we get down there. How are you coming with painting pictures? The girls new 'big girl' bedding has a flower on it that I would like to put on the wall.
For what it's worth, you are one of the top five persons I respect the most out of everyone I've ever met in my life. Not sure if that's proper grammar, but I have an excuse, I'm on Vicoden. :)
Laura - Yeah, pictures need to become more central to my experience. All these words evaporate into nothing almost as quickly as I can type them. We'll have to talk about the flower thing.
Paula - Thanks, that is a giant compliment! Not sure I am worthy, but I appreciate the support! The wonders of Vicodin! :)