ASL?

Apathy is possibly the worst feeling (or thereby lack of) to be plagued by for a prolonged period of time. Plague may sound extreme, but it really isn’t. I mean, relative to other incidences in the world, it may have nominal significance - however, for the sake of the here-and-now, all else apart from the subject’s emotional state, is to be disregarded. So many people have an ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude (or at least pretend to), and think they’re the epitome of apathetic bliss. Alas, it’s nothing more than just that - an attitude.

True apathy is not dissimilar to the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz - desperately wanting to attain a heart because feeling nothing is too robotic to handle. It’s when you know something should affect you heavily, but it does nothing to affirm that you do, in fact, have the capacity to care. When you’ve sunk into a depression so deep that you’re completely devoid of all emotion. When the soul that may have once existed seems like nothing more than a figment of your dark, meaningless imagination. The emptiness is worse than any feeling you’ve ever experienced, and you’d give almost anything to be sad, because that’s the only way you can feel human. Either that, or physical harm. It’s not that you get pleasure from injuring yourself, but the blood is a symbol of normality. Your reaction to the pain confirms that you are still human. After all, according to the general population, the capacity to feel is one of the defining characteristics that set us apart from animalistic beasts, is it not? Continue to call me an ‘emo’ if you wish, but emo is short for emotional. Something I am not.

Grant me your emotions, for Father Time is a bitch.

I recently watched a documentary on the 1971 Stanford Prison Experiment, which, in Wikipedia’s wording, was conducted to test the idea that the inherent personality traits of prisoners and guards were summarily key to understanding abusive prison situations. Although this video was assigned as a management resource, it really is a genuinely fascinating, albeit disturbing experiment. Not in the gory sense, but rather the findings that arise regarding psychological behavioural tendencies and overall lack of humanity as power affects the way humans deal with other humans. As Zimbardo acknowledged, the experiment put good people in an evil room to observe who would win and unfortunately, the evil room won out.

Despite the actions performed during the course of the simulation, it was interesting to see the reactions and attempted justification from the good-people-gone-wrong in the aftermath. As human beings, we try to justify our wrongdoings, immorality and general unethical actions through disassociation from the very action in itself. I believe that most, if not all, human beings have the desire to be seen as good persons. Therefore, when we act in the opposite manner, we attempt to create a differentiation that, in reality, does not exist. We try to shirk the responsibility that should be accepted, and pretend to forget the occurrences that should be acknowledged. We’re good people who do bad things. It’s human nature - nobody is perfect. But that doesn’t mean you can sit back and blame it on nature; realise your flaws and do the right thing. When people stop being selfish, the world will be less dysfunctional and more harmonious.

I’m unoriginal. But no one is original anymore anyway. Exceptions, of course, being the people who are original simply for the sake of originality; which is stupid, pointless and ironically, unoriginal.

Alluring cries of

The sirens in their grandeur,

Coaxing me to jump.

I’m a person who will do almost anything to throw you off-track if I feel that you’re getting too close to the truth. That’s not to say I’d lie - I wouldn’t even hide; but I will use your own mind against you. People who invest their effort into uninformed suppositions bore me, and frankly, are easy to manipulate. Far from having evil intentions, if you yourself feel the need to fill your own mind with unconfirmed nonsense, I am more than willing to assist. Furthermore, to those that feign care (especially when founded on such stupidity) for the purpose [no matter how partial] of unnecessary gossip, I’d just like to say a big ‘fuck you’. Malicious intentions deserve to be reprimanded, and although I will not be the executioner, have [dis]rest in the belief that karma will give you yours.

Permanently doomed,

Unwise as the autumn leaves,

I asked you, ‘why me?’

Low opacity—

I wish you were transparent;

Simply put, honest.

This is such a difficult question, and I hate when people ask me this. I mean, how can you answer it and know that you are absolutely correct without a doubt? How do you measure love, and how can you know when you’ve crossed that line from ‘loving’ to ‘being in love’? I don’t like posting about this topic because I don’t know or have not experienced enough, but this has been on my mind for a while. Love is only a feeling, and simply a transient feeling at that. Love doesn’t come from the heart, it is a mental state that can easily be mistaken, and just as easily can fade in time. Some people make life so difficult for themselves by exaggerating the beauty of loving another and being loved in return, so that when this love is lost in some way, they feel that life is almost worth not living. By exaggerating its beauty, it only makes sense that the sadness brought about by its absence is simultaneously exaggerated. I cannot say that I am not guilty of believing in these extremities, but it is useful to identify such behaviour in order to bring about change.

See, the thing is, love is a relative state, and the idea of ‘true love’ is just so impossible to define. Say, for example, you are in love with your first partner. After that relationship may have passed, what happens if your feelings for your new partner have surpassed the feelings you held for your first? Does that mean that you were never really in love with your first, or does it mean that you have entered some new realm of love, a love you have not previously experienced so deeply? I guess what I’m trying to say is, being in love has no definite boundaries, it can only be as deep as the strongest love you have experienced. In the above scenario, the feelings for the first partner need not be discarded as fake, because at the time, if it felt like love and was the strongest you had felt at the time, such love may have been just as real as the love now held for the new partner. Just as seasons come and go, love may do the same. Hence, there is no point to exaggeration - you are not hurting anybody but yourself.

I’m ashamed of my past, which makes it difficult for me to truly connect with all the new people I’m meeting. Although the prospect of unfamiliar interactions excites me, I have a tendency to remain fairly withdrawn from conversations that have any real depth to them. I don’t make a habit of laying myself out for the world to see, but by the same token, if somebody questions me, I will answer. If it’s one that I can indirectly avoid, I will do so. But for those specific inescapable questions posed, I have no choice but to tell the truth. Lying is not an option in any case, simply because I would be a hypocrite if I engaged in this kind of dishonesty. Hence, why I prefer to keep my existing friends close; they’ve been my friends throughout my escapades and still accept me despite my countless poor choices. I cannot yet imagine spilling my all to a new acquaintance, irrespective of how well we ‘click’. I don’t know if I’ll ever find anyone that I feel would need to know, but for now, I’m content. Nothing more, nothing less. Just here. Existing. That’s all.

Feel. Losing touch with the once all-too-familiar. The separation is both physically and emotionally painful. Rising to a level never reached before, I’m too cowardly to face my weaknesses. Too afraid to look in the mirror for fear of what I may see [or do]. Avoid all (in both mind and body) that reminds you of yourself; it’s the only way to continue. Consistency is imperative - persist with the repetition and watch everything you once knew fade into the nothingness. Like a dehydrated desert-roamer craving for a thirst-quencher, the lakes are simply a mirage. The ever-fading light at the end of the tunnel is merely a figment of your imagination, dreamt up by your mocking mind. But seek comfort in the assurance that it is nothing more than a fictitious obstacle. Soldier on, wandering beyond the unknown itself, for your robotic antics cannot cease until you finally meet your match. Persevere and you may prevail. Alas, solace is not inevitable.

Look at this,
I’m a coward too,
You don’t need to hide, my friend,
For I am just like you.

This week I’ve been very intrigued with the concept of language, and well, the title of this post is pretty self-explanatory. I honestly believe that out of every language in current existence, sign language is the most wonderful. Although it does inevitably serve as a symbol of differentiation between those who are hearing impaired and others who aren’t, I find myself associating an overwhelming sense of equality in its execution. The method of interaction through hand gestures is a massive commonality, and the absence of verbal communication virtually eliminates the bases for judgment. There is no reason for one to be ridiculed because of the things that accompany verbal communicative methods, e.g. their voice, even the speed at which they speak. There’s a strong chance that I’m reading far too deep into a language I know nothing about, but personally, sign language has a strange allure that I can’t seem to (nor do I want to) shake. Hopefully I’ll learn more than just the alphabet in the not-so-distant future.