How do you say exactly what’s on your mind? How do you give your listener the exact picture that you’re seeing? That exact array of emotions?
And once another person has heard you, whatever you said becomes toothpaste. You can’t cram the words back in your mouth and swallow them out of existence, no matter how much you want to do so later.
Generally, you have to convince yourself to talk. That talking it out would help you with your problem. You talk yourself into talking. And all the while, your heart pounds like a drum and your throat feels scratchy and you sound squeaky like a boy who hasn’t hit puberty yet.
When you do manage to string two words together and spew them out with sound, it comes out wrong. Of the ocean you want to convey, you barely outline a puddle.
And you realize how futile speaking your mind is. The other person might listen but is not going to understand.
So you trail off, have your palate give your tongue a hug and silently brood on.
Last night, I said:
Saying you’ve lost hope and won’t come out in support for such causes is equal to saying they have won.
(Yes, I just quoted myself!) And then, I ‘read’ this:
O’Brien went on:
“[We] cannot be wiped out because it is not an organization in the ordinary sense. Nothing holds it together except an idea which is indestructible. You will never have anything to sustain you, except the idea. You will get no comradeship and no encouragement. When finally you are caught, you will get no help…You will have to get used to living without results and without hope. You will work for a while, you will be caught, you will confess, and then you will die. Those are the only results that you will ever see. There is no possibility that any perceptible change will happen within our own lifetime. We are the dead. Our only true life is in the future. We shall take part in it as handfuls of dust and splinters of bone. But how far away that future may be, there is no knowing. It might be a thousand years. At present nothing is possible except to extend the area of sanity little by little. We cannot act collectively. We can only spread our knowledge outwards from individual to individual, generation after generation…In the face of [all this] there is no other way.”
George Orwell, 1984
And suddenly, so many things make sense. We need to get used to living without hope and without seeing any result, whatever the struggle we are involved in for this country. We need to understand that we are the dead. We need to remember that there is no other way. We need to make sure that we do this for the future, whenever that finally comes.
Everyone is outraged.
Once again, it would seem that justice’s ass has been kicked. The rich have wielded their magic power wand. Money/threat has been used by one group to terrorize the other, weaker one to submit. The law in the country has favored the former. “Our” religion seems to have aided these people in promoting their own agendas.
And so, everyone is rightly outraged.
There is already no hope in/for our country. This was one thing that people believed in. One thing they stood for. One thing that brought them together. And now, with the pardon, it has all been for nothing. With the pardon, the nation supported Shahzeb and his family for nothing! With the pardon, who will ever stand up for justice ever again? With the pardon, who will ever want to stand up for justice again?
Giving up won’t bring you closer to this goal. Ever.
So what if once again the rich’s magic money wand waving has gotten them out of trouble? Saying you’ve lost hope and won’t come out in support for such causes is equal to saying they have won.
We’ll get there, people. One of these days, we will get there. Slow and steady wins the race.
But I understand. Hope is a very fickle thing.
Audio Books are my new thing these days and I finished “reading” I Am Legend by Richard Matheson last week.
I have seen the movie, starring Will Smith, many times. It intrigues me a lot and despite knowing it by heart, I find myself on the edge of my seat. I like Smith in general as well. So if I find it playing on TV, I try to catch as much of it as possible.
But the book…The first surprise was obviously the fact that the book and the movie are totally different. And in a totally good way for the book!
I made this connection within the first ten minutes of “reading”. And that is exactly how long it took for my drowsiness to vanish. I just had to finish it ASAP.
Of course, that didn’t happen. But I have to admit: my heart would be beating so loudly I was sure everyone in my house could hear it thumping!
It is totally gripping. Enthralling. Majestic.
To say nothing of the commentary on the human condition, our need to b normal. Our need to cling on to the past and only moving on because we are forced to. And still attempting to find normalcy, going so far as to redefining it.
That fear rules all.
What are you doing with your life? What do you intend to do with your life? What are your plans? What are your aims? Where do you see yourself in five years? Why are you doing this and not that? Why would you want to do that? Why don’t you do this? Aren’t you wasting time? What are you looking for?
Like Rachel in the first season of Friends, I don’t have any beans.
If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting here. Feeling floopy. If I had a plan, I would have let you in on the secret. Better yet, I would be out there “doing” it and making life un-floopy.
For now, all I know is that I don’t know. What or how or when or where or why or why not – nothing! I just have ideas, mixed in with lots of vagueness and indecision and doubts and questions. I just know that I’m ordinary, your below-average Joe; a nameless, faceless avatar of a nobody.
Or, so far anyway.
All good things to those who wait…
Like satisfaction after a good breakfast.
Like a shower with “normal” water despite the heat of the day.
Like a good idea for a blog post after a long drought.
Like electricity after at least eight hours of absence.
Like inspiration for writing after feeling like the well was dry.
Like a visit from an unexpected guest.
Like the delight of a four-year-old on sharing candy.
Like a tender moment with the family.
Like sleep after tossing & turning in bed for hours.
Like hope for another day as there’s always tomorrow.