Everyone should have a special place. Their own little piece of heaven. An escape. This is mine.

"Give me a memory worth dying for...give me tonight."



viernes, 1 de junio de 2012

The infinite search...an immortality quest.


To me, there is a revocable fact of us as beings …we are creatures of a never ending want. Such raw need (not temporal urge, but a constant need) that can never be completely sated. Not even close. We just move from one satisfying object next to the other…always with an empty space waiting to be filled. But something has gone awfully wrong lately. That’s not to say that the ones before us had at hand the magical key of life…no. Far be it from me to say such thing. But something had definitely moved and not necessarily in a good direction. There’s just to open a newspaper for things to start downing on you. Killings sprees, suicides, fights, degeneration of the self, loneliness, rampant self-absorption (not pointing fingers but the jersey shore might ring a bell), the lack of respect for human rights…and the list could go on…I know the latest Coca-Cola add could differ from me, but the truth is there for you to see it…or ignore it. You can do the latter while drinking Coca-Cola, I guess.  
We are no longer thought how to deal with the frustration of the wait…the frustration of not getting instant satisfaction. There is no longer a quest for people to seek out themselves. This even though the right to search one’s happiness continues to be part of the USA Constitution (God Bless America).
My best guess is that we are very much infatuated with the feedbacks. It’s easier (and faster) to get people’s opinion about us and start constituting who we are from there than taking the time to get to know our likes and dislikes. It is easier because while we get the feedback we also are granted the illusion of creating an imprint on somebody else. And here comes what I call the ephemeral immortality effect.
Maybe this has something to do with Edward Cullen and all the mythological immortal hotties out there. We are afraid of aging and dying, or what’s worse, dying and nobody noticing. But because there is no fountain of youth, we conform to the best next thing.  We seek to make an impact…we want to transcend to posterity. Beat death. Because if our memories live on, in a sense, so “do we”. Our truth, our essence doesn’t die with us. Like Celine Dion…it goes on.
 The effect can be easily noticeable on actors. An actor is an actor while the applauses last. A writer becomes a writer whilst his/her written word (dead word) is read by a third party. We seek the ephemeral illusion of immortality even if it is through one person alone.  We are no longer a person just because we exist…we are someone while recognized in the eyes of another. Our identity doesn’t belong to ourselves…not really. In more than one way, it now depends on the one producing the feedback.
To conclude this morose post I would like to end it with some infamous words…FUCK THAT SHIT. You read right. Yes you did. Stop deliberately seeking other’s opinions to conform yourself. Take a day a week to check what’s new with you. Do what you feel passionate about…and if it involves another please check the other is older than 18 and consents to whatever it is you two are doing. My point is…if you like to sing, then sing. Not because you do it well but because you can. Because it feels gutsy right. Every now and then do it under a storm…just to shake things up a bit. And if none of this works then play the song: Fuc@#ng perfect! by Pink.  If that still doesn’t work, well, my friend, seek professional help. Have a nice night and all that! J