Wondering sometimes
whether I got to that moment when I can look at myself (in my mirror, however…
not sure how much of myself is reflected there) and think “man I start to look
pretty fancy, I could almost pass as a mature human being” and then I smirk. I reckon
it is somehow funny how the more I see myself adding meaningless years to my
life collection, the more resemblance I see with the so “simpatico” character of
American Psycho. And of course, the bloody mirror shall never reflect my psycho
thoughts. I assume one needs to enroll in a conversation in order to be truly
scared of the nature that hides behind the so called image of maturity.
People will
always put the blame on being too much of an individualist. Cut that crap
already. We would all be bloody individualist if only given the chance. Some just
have jobs, family, real lives. We, the ones from the so diplomatically put “developing”
countries, we can bury our individualism easily under quotidian piles of deep
shit. But that brave shield taken away what the hell is left if not
individualism?
And then they
call it violence and frustration. Bloody right it might as well be frustration,
it is not like things would be going towards a very bright direction. But I somehow
prefer the term individualism. Call it word fetishism if you please.
And I get to realize
that it is not just my awkward nature (although I know I abound in that one
too). It is not just my weird attempt of growing up while trying to refuse
every law that maturity has ever created to keep people silent, to keep people “pleased”.
It might not be just the struggle between no longer being a child, too old for
being a teenager (although sometimes it could be a nice feeling to mingle in a
crowd, conversations are just as meaningless, just the level of diplomacy
differs) and somehow too young to give in for having a family life, a boring
job that could pay the bills, a nice chemise every day to please the eyes that
surround my being.
That’s a whole
lot of a different story. This one is about just being one defined self, that
individualism that people seem to hate so much nowadays (although it still looks
good in media and why not advertise it if that’s what the poor TV watchers’
minds are pleased to hear; after all, we are here to please). But then an
almost honest voice comes out of the crowd and goes like “individualism is a
very important issue of the modern human. People spend way too much time trying
to figure their own selves out instead of doing something productive”.
And after I hear
something like this I sit and think getting to deepen my little self
unconsciously in my stubborn idiot individualism. We live in a strange society,
nothing to deny there, the other individualist morons (like Fitzgerald, Beckett,
Rushdie and all those lonely souls) have pointed out. Too much free time they
say, you might actually end up knowing yourself and that does not please us at
the end of the day, does it.
Therefore, no
ideas hidden in this one just plain overthinking at a late hour, because we
tend to do that in this misunderstood postmodern pile of rubbish called
society, that we live in. let’s call it food for thought for now (or whatever pleases
you).
