"I'd pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes. That way I wouldn't have to have any goddam stupid useless conversations with anybody."
Holden Caulfield understands.
Recently, I was asked - Why do you write?
And my answer was – because I usually can’t stand talking to people.
There was nervous laughter around the table, the sort that politely disguises a hasty mental backing away towards the nearest exit.
A long time ago, I rambled on in my usual email conversation group about how the average person you meet is likely to have nothing to talk about beyond what goes on in their daily lives. A life revolving around the tiny world of career and immediate relationships.
I asked –
When's the last time you thought of something that didn't have anything to do with your work, family, routine, - pretty much anything unrelated to your own life?
I'm talking about the things that are unconnected to our daily lives, worlds apart from -
so-and-so was such a total bitch today
crap, I haven't done my taxes
I wonder if my partner/baby will do this-or-that today
gosh, I NEED sex
When's the last time you received a letter to your soul?
No response. Too deep, apparently.
I despair at the shallowness of the times we live in.
Just as phoniness was the scourge of Holden Caulfield’s world, shallowness is the bane of mine.
It’s not that I'm demanding high-brow, intellectual debates and such other like manner of snooty-toots.
It’s not that I'm insisting we sing 40 very loud arias about the ugly face of life.
Is it so much to ask for more than a superficial thought about worlds, lives beyond our own?
Edit - Train of thought continues here.
I suspect I’m a little depressed. And I’m not quite sure why.
Holden Caulfield ended up in a psychiatric ward.
He wanted to be the catcher in the rye. Save children from falling off the cliffs of their innocence. Save them from becoming phony adults.
I don’t want to be the catcher.
I want to be the reaper.
Swooping through the fields of the damned.
Child abusers, child molesters/rapists, sadists, paedophiles, rotten parents, deadbeat parents. The cruel, the psychotic, the sick.
All falling in the wrath of my justice. No mercy for the wicked.
No, these thoughts are not the demon spirits of any skeleton in my closet.
But I think my heart is depressed and I don’t quite know why. Maybe I have been watching too much Judging Amy.
The funny thing is … aside for a visual appreciation of that particular stage where they stumble and totter around like pint-sized drunks, doing that peculiar laugh-pant-cry that only toddlers can pull off, I don’t even particularly like children.
I hate that more and more kids are being practically born bratty.
I hate that the youth of today have the attention span of a one-winged fruit fly.
I hate that instant gratification, cheap laughs and shallow minds have become the cancer of the soul.
And because this is all Sharon's fault for telling me to let the words out - don’t stop to think - I'll have you know that this song is playing in my head.
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one- Fragile by Sting
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
Ten years ago, just short of a month today, a massacre took place in the settlement of Port Arthur, Tasmania. Martin Bryant went psycho and pulled a shotgun on thirty five random people. Men, women, children. One hour away from Hobart, where I was based at the time.
A memorial service for the dead was held in Hobart several days later. The streets outside St. David’s Cathedral were packed. I’ve never before been in the presence of such an overpowering sense of collective grief. People were openly weeping as the bell tolled.
Thinking of Catcher in the Rye always brings me back to that day as I walked away from the traumatised city centre, towards St. David’s Park.
It was an overcast, slightly chilly day.
As I sat on a bench listening to the fading echoes of the bell, the laughter of a mother and child shook me from my melancholy.
The little girl was wearing fairy wings and a woollen hat. What a rollicking good time she was having as her mum tossed an armfull of leaves over her.
Fiery confetti and a child’s glee.
It’s one of my favourite moments of solitude; sitting on a bench, in the thick of Autumn’s fall. Wondering if my tears were for the tragedy of the time or the hope for innocence's survival in such times.
Sad beauty.
Like tears from a star.
17 comments:
I can totally understand what you're saying. But really, most of the time, I just don't feel like talking about non-daily/partner stuff.
Probably the office setting doesn't feel right.
And yes, there are so many things wrong in the world that it is difficult to find what is right, what is beautiful, what is worthwhile.
Anyway *hugs*
I hate to admit this but "Gee, I NEED sex" is the kind of thought that pops into my head once a day. At least.
I visited Port Arthur, about two years of the massacre. A simple memorial had been erected from the remains of the building where it had started. I remember feeling a chill, just standing there. Incidentally, one of the victims was a director of the company I started work with the following year.
Strange how the dots seem to connect themselves. Perhaps there is destiny, after all.
I guess writing is sorta therapeutic?(how to spell? too early for brains to function properly) I find myself being able to express more freely on paper or in writing. I have been keeping journals for the past 15 years since back when there were no blogs, only them paper and pens.
And for what's it's worth....for one who professes that you don't particularly like kids, you are pretty good with my piglets and they seem to like you back.:)
BTW, I watch "Judging Amy" too...
actually, thoughts about stuff unrelated to myself are always popping into my mind. when i'm driving, riding the train, showering... i'll suddenly wonder what's that african kid i saw in the reader's digest the night before is doing at this very moment, or if anything went through the minds of japanese soldiers when they brought terror onto nanking, or how are canny ong's hubby n family members moving on with their lives... those kinda stuff.
i've also learnt that it's always best to keep those thoughts to myself, if i dun wanna be labeled weird, crazy, psycho etc.
*sigh...
some of the times i like to talk about the deep stuff, things like ambition, state of the world etc etc. but most of the times, in between chasing deadlines and meeting friends and exercising my ass off to avoid getting heart attack before I turn 40, I realise that the deep stuff is emotionally draining. even reading the news put a damper on my spirits (the only exception is talking about books, that never fail to lift up my spirits)
so these days i tend to keep the conversation light, the mood merry and my mind happy.
and let's not forget what people of previous generation said of our generation. it's a circle of life dear. sometimes you just have to accept it for what it is.
I have friends who talk beyond their work and relationships. Unfortunately, not many people like them or even think that they are normal. Sigh! Their lives are so special that many of them are "condemned" to never marry cos no one could look beyond what they saw and see the wonderment of caring for other issues in life.
But I know they realise the cross they have to bear for having the eyes of heaven.
asmadi has it right - it's emotionally draining. thinking about things OUTSIDE of our immediate lives often (not ALWAYS- sometimes, it's just thoughts of the "does a zebra feel embarrassed in the company of horses?" variety, though how many people even take the time to think such thoughts? - but OFTEN) leads to just obsessing about the sad state of affairs of the world and feeling from sad/kesian (there is no perfect english word for this is there); to upset; to angry; to powerless; to angry-that-powerless; to hopeless; to ah-hell-i-give-up!-it's-nothing-to-do-with-me-anyway; to guilt & more feelings to powerlessness and inadequacy; to crap!-i-need-to-*insert personal everyday concern*...
and daily life intrudes again, and you're GLAD, because those other thoughts were just too uncomfortable. it's not right, but i'm guilty of it too. which is precisely why the world is the sad place it is today. NO ONE CARES. not enough, anyway, to want to do something about it.
i could write more, but i'm currently upset over how i CANNOT seem to write in short sentences.... which is a happier worry than what oh what oh what can i do to cheer your heart...
yes, i know i've gone kinda off topic. or not, really :)
hrrmph. i DID digress... somewhere right after "NO ONE CARES".
whilst we may not be able to DO anything, what is lacking now is even the THOUGHT that that is a sad thing. how often do we stop and reflect that WE ARE REALLY LUCKY? to appreciate the small things in life and to be thankful for them? just because it is emotionally draining to think, do we STOP? we may have no idea what real grief and suffering is, but if we do not at all attempt to think about it, will we even recognise goodness and happiness when it's staring us in the face? what is the point of an everyday existence, where you can not, or do not, aspire to better yourself as a person? have we really become that selfish?
aaargh. i'm so clumsy with my words. hunger does not help. neither does the noise coming up 7 floors from HELP College’s bloody PA system.
i came across this recently. it does not say what i mean, but it does serve as a reminder of something to strive for.
Next time what I'd do is look at
the earth before saying anything. I'd stop
just before going into a house
and be an emperor for a minute
and listen better to the wind
or to the air being still.
When anyone talked to me, whether
blame or praise or just passing time,
I'd watch the face, how the mouth
has to work, and see any strain, any
sign of what lifted the voice.
And for all, I'd know more -- the earth
bracing itself and soaring, the air
finding every leaf and feather over
forest and water, and for every person
the body glowing inside the clothes
like a light.
Mary Oliver, Next Time
Aiyo, so deep lar...
But so true...deep thoughts aside, sometimes we just need to stop and smell the roses, to appreciate the simple things in life.
I think the problem with most of us is that there is a distinct barrier between "the world out there issues" and "the inner circle issues". Half the time, we apply a different set of rules, care too little for one and care too much for the other to really make a difference.
The extraordinary amongst us balance both to the point that one world is almost as important as the other. They will discuss about the need to recycle, and actually do it at home. They lament over how there are so few real heros in our time, and go home to become a hero to their children. There are no double standards, their worldview (is that the word for it?) is consistent from one situation to another.
Anyhow, I can't live without my daily dose of Judging Amy. It's nice to watch a TV show and learn something once in a while... =P
derek - Luckily got blog hor?
weeshiong - Wow, talk about serendipity. Paths in Destiny's garden and all that. Yeah, 2 Malaysians were killed, both shot point blank in the head. Hey, I hope you liked Tassie. :)
boobs - I like your little one, he reminds me of Hammie, a comic strip baby.
sue - Wah. Ok, I don't think until that detailed, but I do look at the pretty clouds and try to look for drumstick shapes in them :)
asmadi - I hear ya. But you know what? Lots of ppl don't think even reading is worthy of breaking their schedule for.
That's what I'm lamenting too...people no longer bother to put in more than a superficial span of attention on things (whether serious or whimsical) other than their daily routine.
Ame - Looks like a pattern eh? People who don't spend all their time running the hamster wheel tend to get labelled as weird, crazy, priviliged, too much time on their hands, etc.
Snowie - Again, I'm reminded why you are a gift. As you know, ppl tend to think that I have the luxury of my perspective because I am priviliged.
Your sharing the same views despite coming from such a different background validates me. Muaks!
LFS - I prefer to smell the coffee :)
Najah - Another Amy addict! I'm so upset that from next week JA will be shown only Mon-Wed. Luckily there's 2 more seasons to go. Can you believe CBS cancelled the series to make way for a #&*^$@&$^@Jennifer Love Hewitt#^&^$%^# vehicle??? Gah.
It's a pity that rare are the extraordinary.
And I thought that only my sis and I saw the Hammie in him....Heheh....
my fault? haha! good!
i agree with you so much about shallowness when it's soul-touching depth and intensity one needs ... feel much the same ... and i guess it's why i write and why i read ... at least let the conversatrion be there on paper
Boobjuicer - Hahaha, count both Snowie and me in. Hammie's cute, and so is Wren.
gobbledegookycharacters - Surely bibliobibuli is easier to type than that? :) See what happens when I let the words out without structure? Have to clarify with a whole subsequent post! :)
Actually, this post is a jumble of three trains of thought. What interests me is that reaper thing - it just jumped when I wasn't consciously thinking. Hmmm...
now you know it's me for sure!
there is magical synchronicity in different streams of thought colliding ... the things that slip in when you aren't consciously thinking often have the greatest power ... go with the flow and my the force be with you
"Fiery confetti and a child’s glee."
That was such a beautiful image.
Anyway, I think some people find it alot easier if they don't think too much about things outside themselves and their immediate relationships.
Sometimes I wonder if they are the smarter ones who have it figured out. They're probably saying "Why think so much, and get all troubled over things we have little control over..."
And there are other people who think deeper... people who care enough to feel angry, to analyse what went wrong, what could have been done, what could be done in the future... but only to sigh in resignation after that. Only a handful of people ever put their thoughts and "debates over things that matter" into action... as in REALLY do something. Because it's alot easier and more comfortable thinking and talking than doing, isn't it? Sigh.
Bibliobibuli - Gosh I do hope these last few posts count as homework...cos I havent done mine for tonight. :S
Synchronicity. I love that word.
Wandernut - Wah woman, give me some of those digestives! :D
It certainly is easier to think than do. Which is why I've rationalised that the process of exercising our intellect should at the very least serve to better ourselves as kinder, less self- absorbed people.
With more people becoming better people, the *puke* world *gag* ought to *bleurk* become a *barf* better place *bleh*.
Hate it when what I want to say is such a cliche.
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