Folie à Deux

I Didn’t Think I was Qualified to Speak, and I was Damned Right

We’re emulating those prestigious TED Talks in our Speech and Debate class, and I’ve realized that I didn’t really know what to give a speech on. So I sit here the night before it’s due, and I’m trying to bullshit something about the art of bullshitting something.

I almost feel as if I’m intruding. I shouldn’t have the right or the privilege to speak about literature because it’s a sacred art that’s reserved for the sharpest of minds and the brightest of thoughts. It’s like tapping into an old system and debasing certain established traditions with my sacrilege.

This city is sacrilege, but it’s an established one that’s become a system. I’ve always abhorred the limitation of creative thinking, but I’m slowly becoming an advocate for the emphasis of the necessary over that of homage.

I’ve seriously spent about fifteen minutes scrolling through my chat list on Facebook for someone to talk to. I’ve been texting people stupid, useless, pointless things just to start a conversation. I feel so unspeakably lonely.

It’s not just because I’m alone in a dimly lit room or because I feel the repercussions of the isolation of recieving an award I don’t deserve; it’s simply that tired feeling, that exhausted, careless feeling where I want to dump the very human essence of me, the pain and persistence that characterizes life on someone who’ll listen and I want to share it because it’s become so burdensome for myself to carry on my own.

I become alive in art, but I’ve realized just how lonely it is when you try to find some human comfort in something lifeless and without virtue. I decided to speak on what literature exactly is, and I stumbled upon an amazing quote that summarizes my relationships with literature: “Literature is my Utopia. Here I am not disenfranchised. No barrier of the senses shuts me out from the sweet gracious discourses of my book friends. They talk to me without embarrassment or awkwardness.” —Hellen Keller.

It’s going to be a difficult and lonely four years. And sometimes I pity me for the pathetic self-deprivation that I’ll inflict upon myself.

People are going places and doing big things and becoming great people, and I sit and meddle with meaningless words in hopes of changing something. When I started this blog, I wanted to write about anything and everything, to get myself an outlet for the frustrating things that abound in this world.

Along the way, I realized that I enjoyed recieving recognition for what I did, not matter how lowly my work was. It was a desperate pride, something I can never communicate to you despite all the fancy words I may employ.

And I realize tonight, it’s embarrassing just how quixotic it was of me to think that the very words I say could shape those around me. Who was I kidding? Stupid pictures of food or fucking stick figures get more recognition than I do. I’m not commendable. I’m not amazing. And I sure as hell ain’t some hero.

Heros come in small packages? Bullshit. Heroes are simply the construction of an ideal through bravado and a veneer of worthiness. Little people aren’t heroes; I’ve lost my faith in us.

I’ve realized that in this commercialized and technologically advanced world, we have no time to enjoy anything. My successes are completely contingent upon and quantified by the number of certain positive affirmations of my work.

So for those of you who still care, I apologize, but I’m going to stop writing now. It’s been something of a passion, and a dream of mine to one day write a memoir like David Sedaris’ Me Talk Pretty One Day. I’ve always thought of myself as the humanities man, interested in the arts and languages. I really thought I could better the society that nurtured me.

And for those of you who don’t care, who believe that this is good riddance, a belated admittance of defeat, you win.

I’m giving up like I gave up on her. Even my kairos faulters in the face of my failures.

Muse #5

shineuisung:

I’ve been told repeatedly that I should never judge a book by its cover, but honestly, the best books I’ve read were also the prettiest. Catcher in the Rye is not only an amazing book, but also has a wonderful piece of art on the front and back covers. Brave New World is marvelous novel, with an even more marvelous and interesting cover design. And the cover of Catch-22 is an ironically conservative and sophisticated art that clashes with the content of its book.

Although external forces conspire to teach that judgement is wrong, I openly invite judgement. I don’t abhor or preach against it. I aboslutely enjoy it and embrace it. It sucks to be misjudged, and when people believe in the superficial, observable things about you, they believe in the tenets that seem plausible. I don’t like to be judged as anything less than the full value of my character. No one does. And to ensure that no one’s sensitive feelings are trampled upon, we holistically agree to eliminate any sort of judgement at all.

When I am a host at work, I am often judged by my outward appearance, my demeanor, my customer hospitality, and efficiency. These traits constitute the deepest, most valuable traits of mine, intelligence, conscientiousness, and more. And this judgement is inherent in all relationships, even as you walk by a man or woman on the street. So in light of this perspective, I endorse judgement fully. But it’s not simply the judgement, but how we as individuals act in order to be judged well. It is just in human nature to judge; despite adamant paroxysms of self-righteousness, each and every one of us judge. So why don’t we all act with integrity, with sincerity, with honor, and with intellect, so that they way we are judged is accurate and inviting? So that the novel of our lives are perused with the utmost honesty.

Anonymous asked: How do you develop passion? Or is it inherent? Or is it spontaneous?

Just like sex, drugs, love, and coffee, I thoroughly believe that passion occurs at any place, in any form. Sometimes, it gets heated, and sometimes, we merely indulge in it because we feel obligation or normative social influence.

In order to answer this outstanding question in an outstanding manner, let’s look to a few great people in history and see where their passions developed:

Albert Einstein is a classic example of a man who was motivated by a passionate drive. It’s rather known that he was so involved in his work in physics, nominally relativity, that he often neglected to brush his teeth and wear clothing. His passion reportedly first developed as he worked in a patenting office in Berlin, Germany. But I’ve heard of further record that discuss how an encounter with a magnet and compass spontaneously inspired Einstein’s love for science, even at a very young age. 

Veritably, Einstein epitomizes an individual whose fire was ignited immediately, and steadly grew into an all-consuming conflagration. And to postulate further, I believe that great things are possible only through possession of this fire. This conjecture is the sole reason I seek my own passion.

Let’s observe another individual, the individual by the name of Kevin Stone, hypnotist. He is a man who first started with a limited understanding and love for hypnotism. Like every boy and girl of young age, he was simply amazed by the illusions of hypnotism. At first, it seemd like nothing more than a hopeless pipe dream. But as the years wore on, his love and passion for the art of hypnotism grew deeper and more profound, until he found himself deep in the middle of clinical therapy for patients who sought nontraditional forms of mental treatment.

Sometimes, passion may take a while to truly burn, like a stubborn campfire on a windy day. Other times, it may seem a combustible desire immediately flammable in the faceof insurmountable challenges. I think that my passion or yours is something that is not determined by fate or destiny; I hate the experience of feeling like you’re not in control. 

I believe, rather, that your determination and potential is what drives the arousal of your very own passion. It’s a dormant force that exists in all aspects of every activity we undertake, it is simply our involvement that is the problem. 

The Commencement Speech I’ll Never Make

Hello everyone, it’s such a privilege to speak to you today, but I can’t help feeling a bit sad; this place we’ve called our school, our home for so long is now rapidly becoming a part of our pasts. It’s nothing new to me, though; I’ve attended 6 different schools in the last five years, moving more times than I could count. Often times, I’ve found myself thrown into a new environment, blind to the fresh opportunities that were available to me. In the same way, I don’t know where my future will lead me. I don’t know if I can truly succeed in the professional world. All I can be sure of is my own hard work and unrelenting passion.

The other day, I was talking with a good friend of mine and she concluded that there is no such thing as a good or bad person. There are just people, and we choose to live according to what we want, regardless of morality or justice. We’re very egotistical, simple, hedonistic people. The future is obscure and I can’t tell you where I’ll be in ten or twenty years. But I do know that no matter where I go or what I do, I will live proudly, diligently, and righteously. I encourage you to do the same.

I recognize that in the future, there will be issues with academics, friends, money, and more. I’m sure that we’ll study harder in college than we ever had in high school. Sometimes, we might feel unspeakably lonely in times of strife and struggle. And I’m sure some of us will be seeing a lot of Big Macs and Double-Doubles.

The best analogy I can give you is that life is like driving. Keep your focus, your goals, and your destination in mind. Sometimes, it’ll rain and things might get a little slippery. Make sure you follow the rules of the road, practice safe and healthy driving, and when you see someone dealing with a flat tire or smoking engine or a broken heart, pull over and help them out.

And in every car there is a radio, a cup holder, and a passenger seat, so remember to enjoy life’s small pleasures like music, a cup of hot coffee, and your best friend. Enjoy the ride. Cure the more malignant diseases of the soul with love and patience. Stand firmly in the beliefs you champion. And learn to take the wheel of your life with your two confident hands proudly, diligently, and righteously.

Anonymous asked: You probably don't know me but your blog is awesome. :) One of your response to an anon really got me thinking... Ever since then, whenever I read your blog, it makes me think differently about the things around me. How do you write so well? I would die to have your ability to write like this

Thank you very much! I’ve been too busy lately with work and AP testing to write anything.. but maybe I’ll have something to say soon. I’m glad my writing helps you see things with a new perspective, it’s very flattering!

I don’t really write well, I think it’s just that I try very hard to be honest, and so it comes out well. I think that sort of intent is important when it coems to writing well. May I ask which response you’ve read?