Faithful Companion

My life's decisions have had many motivators, fear was always the most pressing, gnawing, and powerful. It always lingered in the back of my mind like a slow hum that would turn into a growl whenever I allowed myself to look away from it for too long. It would glare at me with its red eyes and ask: "Do you dare act against my will?" And I would comply with it... because I was a coward. 

 Saying I was a coward is a cop-out. I still am a coward. Fear remains my strongest driving force because hope is something I never afforded. I never knew what it's like to choose something without duress; without looking back and seeing how frightening the alternative is and sighing in relief that I escaped by the skin of my teeth. 

 I knew what courage looked like for a few moments in my life. I stood in the face of adversity and defended my choices and felt quite good about it, too. The funny thing is, every single one of those decisions, especially when I bet against the odds and had such conviction while doing so, ended up in disappointment. 

 These instances taught me that desire isn't in the cards for someone like me. That caution, however suffocating and isolating and sad, is the only way I can survive with the least damage possible to the people I care about. I learned to quiet the parts of me that yearned for more, for better, for deeper. I repeated my fear to myself as a daily mantra because I still am scared if I abandon it I'll get hurt. I learned to tell myself: "This is as good as it's going to get." Over and over. 

 The cynical part of me wants to interject here and point out how obviously misguided the delusional part of me is. Because if I'd learned anything in my 30 years of life, it's that every time I listen to desire, to hope, to more, I get struck down. 

 People have a tendency to be fickle and uncertain, even when they tell you you're the answer to their prayers...their prayers change and you miss the mark once again. It's not their fault they're human. It's not a moral shortcoming to change. But it's starting to feel like change evades me, because no matter how much I wish for fear to leave me alone, it remains my most faithful companion.

Accessible

The feeling of loneliness, we've all experienced it at some point, and I can say dreaded it for the most part. It's the feeling that creeps up on you after you've been around so many people, laughing and being merry, but after a while the company starts to fade out of sight and you're just left with it. It's that feeling of helplessness associated with need; the need for attention and acceptance, and maybe some consolation in the form of a warm hug or a pat on the back. We all crave it and we all can't do without it.

So how to fulfill the need without sounding demanding or "needy"? You become accessible.
We as humans have this hypothesis engraved in our minds that when we offer something, we're more likely to have it reciprocated. It's true for the majority to see life as a series of trading transactions, we do something for something else in return. Be that thing a material payment, an appreciative gesture, or for the more self-righteous of us, the mere sense of satisfaction for having done good. It explains why we go through a lot of crap without a short-term profit; I mean, how many times were you convinced as a child to do something because it'll get you into heaven?
But that's not our point. The point here is we offer so much because we expect so much in return. So, for example, one offers 3-4 hours daily for socializing/checking up on friends because they somehow hope to find a friend checking up on them when they feel lonely...simple as that.

Of course with social media this has become a million times easier and more convenient. You now can interact with ten times the number of people you could interact with say 20 years ago, and reach an audience of numbers you could have only wished to reach as a dreamy, wide-eyed little kid. It's become so simple to show little bits and pieces of your personality to your acquaintances and friends so as to make yourself look as charming and inviting as possible. It all works out perfectly to ward off that lousy loneliness, right?

Wrong. Sometimes the idea of acceptance sounds amazing when uttered as a general notion, like how we all should embrace each other's differences and celebrate each other's presence. However, it can cause one to think of themselves in terms of their ambiguous traits, the silhouette of their personality rather than its core, or even worse for more self-conscious people, to feel like they're deceiving their grand audience into thinking they're something better and more appealing than their true selves, which is a very guilt-inducing, self-destructive thought. It could lead these people to making all kinds of stupid decisions to disrupt the image taken of them and disprove any theories of their wholeness.

Real loneliness needs real connection to chase it away. It needs open lines of communication and a willingness to share the innermost fears and desires with someone who understands and appreciates. It needs care that extends beyond lines of texts or minutes of phone calls with contrived emotions and cold, yellow images of pseudo-facial expressions. It needs intimacy, emotional and physical.

Life and Art

But then I'm bewildered, how on earth is life not like "the movies" when people who create movies are, well, alive?! From where would poets, authors or artists in general soak the vividness of their emotions? Don't they live on the same planet we live on? 

The quote presented above is from my blog, a post dated February 14th, 2013. I had just finished reading The Prisoner of Zenda for the first time in the original text, and I was quite surprised and deeply moved by how the author managed to describe the romance between the two characters; Rudolf Rassendyll and the Princess Flavia.

It was beautiful how he described how they wanted each other, missed each other's presence, and truly longed for a life together. However, they ended up apart...that was where I cried.

Here's an excerpt from the 21st chapter in that novel. It's dear to me because it truly made me see how my wish--quoted from my beloved Oscar Wilde--that "life would imitate art" have come true in a way I never suspected:

"I am mad!" I said sullenly.

"I love your madness, dear," she answered.

Her face was away from me, but I caught the sparkle of a tear on her cheek. 

"Is love the only thing?" she asked, in low, sweet tones that seemed to bring a calm even to my wrung heart. "If love were the only thing, I would follow you—in rags, if need be—to the world's end; for you hold my heart in the hollow of your hand! But is love the only thing?"

I made no answer. It gives me shame now to think that I would not help her.

"I know people write and talk as if it were. Perhaps, for some, Fate lets it be. Ah, if I were one of them!"

 As an answer to the questions in my blog quote, they soak that vividness from life. And yes, they do live on the same planet as us, and I was privileged enough to meet some of them, even more privileged to have the close friendship and affection of one.

An artist's heart is designed to clarify every single experience it goes through. It's made to reveal mysteries that lie in everyday encounters, show the tenderness behind crude behaviors, and give meaning to abstract emotions which are then universally related to and understood. Art is created to show us beauty even in presumed ugliness, it's a reminder that the human soul is far more complex and deep than materialistic needs or earthly aspirations. This art can touch you through a word well-placed when uttered, a note well-played, or a paintbrush that holds the right color and makes the right strokes. It's appreciated when it's placed before an eager eye or given to a hungry ear; the receptacles that are willing to deliver such exhilarating experience to another artist's soul...

Idolatry

Judging by the title you've probably figured out what I'll write about. Fair enough, it's not a new subject to tackle, nor is it an easy one. I'll be very specific and quite personal when talking about this, so bear with me for a little...
The type of idols and idolatry this time is people. I've always thought of role models as infallible, though I try to look like I know their weaknesses and problems, and that they're in no means perfect. I find myself always ignoring these faults and failings once I get totally hooked up on them. It's then I realize that I've created something too big to break down into a normal human being. It only takes another role model I turn into an idol to make me see the faults and normality of the previous one. Like I said in the last post, it's a cycle, a very repetitive one. I guess it'll end for sure, nothing lasts forever after all.
I may seem mature for my age, but I know there are certain things that expose my lack of consistency. I pray about it. I even noticed improvement in some areas. But sometimes it only takes someone to tick me off to get me to throw a tantrum, or some poor friend of mine to bash on something I happen to "like" to get me to never stop proving them wrong, or convincing them that they need a change of views. This particular area, which is idolizing people, proves there's a LOT to work on in order to be mature.
I still struggle with the idea that I can change whatever I want about myself, whenever I want it, once I set my mind to. As if there's a button to press so I would stop being lazy, or stop thinking too highly or too lowly of myself, or even a button to change my opinion about someone or something I know is no good. This shows my lack of a realistic perspective of the world, of myself, of God. Things like that need perseverance, something I'm very poor in.
I just don't know what to do with myself. I still pray to find the right way to get rid of idolizing people, to grow up, and to learn from all the times mere humans failed me.
Pray for me, please.

Just like the movies

I had just finished reading a book of a story I had known so many years ago. That time, it was the way the writer intended it to sound like when the little voice in my head read it. I was so much moved by the way he described events, people and emotions. Those emotions! If only life in some way could imitate art, well, if only it were even possible for something like this to happen!

 I considered myself a very emotional person, yet in someway I got very good at hiding it. I got used to convincing myself that it's just a waste of time feeling something, or at least thinking about feeling something. That opening the door, or just leaving a little gap where light could enter, will wreck me eventually.

I grew tough. Tougher by the day. I even scare people away; looking so collected and so whole on your own is always a deal breaker.

I am deprived of emotions. I search inside of me for them but I fail to find enough of them for the people I handle everyday. If there are some left, they would be merely the remnant of what I once held inside of me.

Yet in my heart, still yearns the old me to the slightest glimpse of hope that someday I will be loved. This "embarrassing" side shows every time I witness an outpour of feelings. I'm not made of stone, apparently. And just as I try to make this side more obvious, I get laughed at for crying over a movie, or tearing up to a song, or just reacting to a gesture I thought was sincere towards me.

It is then when I pray the most that life would truly imitate art.

How have we become so poor on the inside? It's almost scandalous that it's impossible a man tells his lady that he loves her, without risking a million gazing eyes towards him. Even friends no longer make their loyalty a priority, for interest's sake! I lament where we've become. So bad that I pity myself instead of blaming it for where I have gone.

But then I'm bewildered, how on earth is life not like "the movies" when people who create movies are, well, alive?! From where would poets, authors or artists in general soak the vividness of their emotions? Don't they live on the same planet we live on? Why isn't it that we wonder from where we got all the stiffness, instead of pondering at their "mushiness"?

I admit that not all people are created equal, especially when it comes to feelings. But we could just try! We could just pray for more enlightenment when it comes to searching our souls within. I can't say that this is the answer. Truth is that I am still looking into it myself. I may never reach the shore when it comes to just this...

Love, Really?!

What kind of world makes us believe that every princess will be loved, and what if it's not true?
And language speaks poetry in the face of something so dangerous, what is it in these words that mystifies you?
When do these thoughts start swimming in my mind and set my heart to flood, and why does my temperature keep rising? -  Dan Haseltine, The Hawk In Paris

 

Disregarding that the pic on this video is not of the artist, I shall commence my interpretation of why I chose this verse of this particular song to start off ,and what are the circumstances that made it pop into my head in the first place.

Where I live Valentine's day is celebrated twice a year. For some reason in November 4, and the international/ western day of February 14. So it's pretty obvious why I'm writing about this now. I searched Wikipedia for Valentine's Day to find out why there's a conflict or duplication of the celebration date. And since I've practically found nothing, I just kept on reading. I came across two words that stirred some thought or should I say curiosity, the first being "Courtly Love" (not Courtney Love, people!). This one is defined mostly as a relationship where the man sees his lady love interest as superior to him, so he tries to win her affection by doing acts of chivalry, nobility and expressing his non-sexual attraction to her, mostly praising her mind and soul. 

The second is "Platonic Love", that is any relationship based on chaste (non-sexual) love and admiration, be it among two men, two women or a man and a woman. It was named after Plato, who first defined it as a superior emotion to any other, he even named it Divine Eros (divine love) as the opposite to vulgar, earthly, materialistic love. And it was considered by later, 15th century European, Christian philosophers as a state where the people having these emotions use them to draw themselves closer to the ultimate good, that is God. Both of these forms have been expressed heavily in works of literature, mainly poetry.

Wow! That's some thinking. I wonder how far the mankind has drifted away from thinking this way. I wonder why the concepts of love and sexuality have been so mixed and messed up together that it's hard for anyone to picture the former without the latter being involved. Yes, love can exist solely without the help of any other emotion as a source of motivation. Or at least that's what I'd like to think. I think that modern day Earth is a place where personal desires are over-rated. It's saddening actually to regard something so beautiful as a co-dependent thing, or more terribly, dismissing the idea of its existence in the first place!

Love is the greatest gift ever given to Earth by its creator. He made us capable of loving so that we wouldn't drown in an endless hole of self-concern, leading to self-destruction. It made us able to protect who/ what we love and even bother to care for them when needed. It is beautiful, divine, special and should be more common. This ought to bring a lot more peace and serenity to this war-torn, plagued and shattered place we call home.

P.s. I might have been under the influence of lemon tea and a terrible sore throat infection while writing this. So, yeah...

Change

A lot has been happening to me recently, especially in the last couple of years. practically nothing I'd known about myself or about the people around me stayed the same. the way people treat me and the way I treat them back, my attitude towards certain subjects, my taste in music, even my appearance has changed. it's just a bit confusing to me, how can ALOT change in such a small period of time, is it even possible? or am I delusional? I have no idea.
I started thinking about this in the light of a friendship that started in summer 2011, it was amazing how much me and this friend had in common...we'd talk for hours and hours and not get bored, our likes and dislikes were almost identical, I even remember one time we had taken a quiz and we got the same score, the funny thing is that we got the same question wrong choosing the very same wrong choice! connecting with this friend was something special, we helped each other get through lots of rough times and we always counted on each other to be there.
However, it didn't stay this way. we kind or started drifting apart, we'd go for almost two weeks without chatting on Facebook or even saying hi. the weird thing is that when asked, this friend says it's just being busy that's keeping us apart and that we'd go back to our "norm" if we got the chance. I just simply don't get it. they say that if people want you in their lives they'd walk the distance to find you amidst their everyday business. I fear that we don't do this anymore. part of the blame surely lies on me, the problem is that I have some sort of a repulsive force against people, even the people I love the most, I'd say something stupid or insensitive and than they're gone, or even not say anything at all, because sometimes it's the only reason one wants to leave; not getting enough attention. I tried to start conversations, but I guess if the other half is unwilling to talk it will be completely fruitless.
The thing I fear the most is that I might be over-analyzing things, and that this person wants to be my friend as much as I do, it's just hard for me to watch people walk away from my life one after the other while questioning the reasons why, and doubting that I could be the problem in the first place.
Here's a song that pops into my head every time I think about this,

The Chronicles of Narnia Soundtrack - 01 - Jars of Clay - Waiting For the World to Fall
Lyrics:
I'm afraid it's been too long to try to find the reasons why
I let my world close in around a smaller patch of fading sky
But now I've grown beyond the walls to where I've never been
And it's still winter in my wonderland

I'm waiting for the world to fall
I'm waiting for the scene to change
I'm waiting when the colors come
I'm waiting to let my world come undone

I close my eyes and try to see the world unbroken underneath
The farther off and already it just might make the life I lead
A little more than make-believe when all my skies are painted blue
And the clouds don't ever change the shape of who I am to You

I'm waiting for the world to fall
I'm waiting for the scene to change
I'm waiting when the colors come
I'm waiting to let my world come undone

When I catch the light of falling stars my view is changing me
My view is changing me