It should be no secret by this point that I think Lady Gaga is the second coming. She's beautiful, brilliant, talented, and she happens to be taking on all the causes that are near and dear to my heart. LGBT issues, bullying, HIV/AIDS - if she started a charity for the elderly she would essentially be me. Her songwriting trumps it all though, because I cannot think of another songwriter who has so eloquently tapped into what it's like to be a 20 something today. Catchy and dance-able, but also socially relevant and musically allusive to all the greats that came before her. The best thing about Gaga? She doesn't make apologies for who she is.
Me? I am a self-apologist. I have never been comfortable with being my own unique self, but to not do so is a lie that I'm not good enough to tell. I am who I am and I love what I love, but there's always this niggling desire to be accepted, to blend in, to be part of something. John Donne said that no man is an island - clearly he had no idea what the 21st Century had in store for the human race. While each man's death diminished him, it seems that each death now makes the remainder greater than it had been. He said he was involved with mankind - we are involved only in ourselves. We are reduced to a hundred million tiny plastic islands adrift alone in a sea of information devoid of any truth. We have access to more knowledge than any other time in history, and yet we bathe in complacent ignorance and stupidity. Real interpersonal connections are swiftly becoming a thing of the past. "Text me." "Facebook me." I have 3 friends who I talk to on the phone with any regularity, and one friend who I see in person from time to time. We are far flung - not a fault, merely a reality, and we work hard to bridge the distance with pen and paper, plastic and light.
I understand that this is the way of the world, and this is the hand that I've been dealt, but do you know how soul crushing it is to go days not talking to anyone except your pets and your child - all of whom have the same relative conversational skills? It is not fun, and I cannot be the only one to feel this way. We are all growing farther apart and more isolated. It is a social disease. Well, maybe an anti-social one.
This rant was not my intention when I began writing, but in the spirit of truth I'm not going to remove it, since truth was what I wanted to write about in the first place. I want to show you my teeth.
I have been trying to figure out who I am and what I want out of life for a really long time now. I have an unhealthy fixation on my time spent in school because it seems like at that time I knew who I was and what I wanted. When I went to college I came out so confused that I can't make heads or tails of my life anymore. I am not blaming college - I think this is what happens when you throw a fish from the bowl into the sea. It's huge and scary, and the salt water burns. All the time you were in the bowl you thought the sea was the answer, but all it did was leave you with more questions and longing for the comfort and safety of the bowl. High school was my fish bowl. I was awkward and out of place, but at least I was guaranteed social interaction five days a week with a small group of peers who liked me in spite of my eccentricities. All that time I thought the real world would be better. I would be in control of my life - I could finally lose weight, write, be happy, and figure out who I am. That's worked out so well for me.
I go days without seeing another grown up when j^C is out of town. I weigh the most I have ever weighed in my life. I write sporadically with no purpose and no end. I am unhappy, afraid, and alone. What's worse is that this is it. I have nothing to hope for. When you are in highschool, you have the promise of a better life after. What's my promise now? I'm starting graduate school on Monday which should hold the promise of a career and a life upon completion, but I don't feel very optimistic. I feel afraid. I am telling such colossal lies at this point and I am terrified of being caught. I wonder if the lies will be worth it in the end anyway, if I lose what I've got left of myself along the way? That's a very pessimistic view - who knows, maybe I'll find myself after all. Nothing from nothing is nothing, so maybe I haven't got all that much to lose to begin with. I have been reduced to nothing but numbers. I am the sum of my circumstances and surroundings.
I am 26 years old. I am 236 pounds. I am 1/3 of a family unit. I am 1/2 of a Xanax. I am nine numbers that do not even belong to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment