So, I’m doing that thing again when I write when I’m completely sleep deprived. If I could think enough to remember how much sleep I’ve had over the last 4 nights I would average it out to about 3 hours a night. Thus my lack of post yesterday, lack of sleep leads to apathy I’ve noticed- which I find numbingly nice. However when it comes to feeling lack of emotion, that’s when I start writing. Bring up all of those dormant emotions back into the spot light so I can try and figure out where I’m at.
This morning I woke up at 3:30am and now it’s currently 6:20am. The birds are chirping their impenetrable morning noises, so chaotic and inconsiderate at an hour like this. I cannot stand birds in the morning, one of my biggest pet hates. When it’s day time however, I’m awake well rested and I see them swiftly glide past or waddle around, I think they’re lovely. So graceful and hypnotic, I used to even have birds as pets when I was younger. Funny how you can both love and hate the same thing interchangeably throughout the day depending on the context. But I suppose that how affection works, you can only be disappointed with something you’ve developed expectations to, and you can only truly appreciate something when you’ve experienced its absence.
An example being a family home, you grow up in it and are provided with everything, sheltered and cared for yet whilst children get older and adolescence hits – all they want is to move out and seek independence. However when they finally get to that point, they move out and realise what independence actually means, they miss the sheltered life of being catered for and protected. The ease of minimal financial pressure and the freedom not having to pay rent can bring in comparison to the other freedom they thought they wanted. They can visit back home and miss its warming comforts, or at times the visits can turn sour due to common family disputes and they are grateful for their little sanctuary. All dependant on context.
If something brings you joy, or upsets you, your views can change and be changed again and again depending. It’s an ongoing cycle, and even things you love which have always brought you joy can become old and boring from its lack of absence. Like a favourite song you’ve played too many times or a movie you’ve re-watched again and again until it becomes stale and predictable.
I was taught that people don’t like change, as my high school history teacher used to say, ‘the only people in this world that like change are babies with dirty diapers’. If this was the case, why is it that people these days become bored so easily? When people used to feel comfort in their old habits, I feel like this comfort has become old fashioned and now the only comfort recognised is being socially accepted. To have the newest smart phone, to know the latest gossip, to feel in the loop and know what’s going on – to not be an outsider. Because isolation is uncomfortable, because being alone is unsettling.
So… I’ve slowly become more and more isolated – by choice. I’ve grown more and more apathetic; I find it harder to see society as a source of comfort. That feeling when you see cars part for an ambulance, the feeling of safety derived knowing that complete strangers still have each other’s backs. Nowadays that sense of safety is shadowed by broken trust, by loss and by disappointment not specifically in society although that’s still an element, the disappointment in which I naively and stupidly thought that life had my back. That good things happen to good people, and that karma exists. This regrettably is all but a myth. A fairy tale of sorts which although it motivated me to make the right choices in life like all good fables encourage, it is but a saying. A string of positive words to promote positive actions. A white lie.
People have mixed opinions about white lies, ‘what people don’t know can’t hurt them’. This I agree with, but when the distant offense flies into existence, it’s so much more brutal. The time it lay in dormancy only makes its presence so much more detrimental and the damage it causes so much more intense. But people know this, yet they still choose to lock away their cruel secrets. It’s a gamble that people are more than willing to take because it’s easier, and that’s the only sad truth it openly presents.
I don’t know what I’m trying to convey with this post, I don’t know what new emotions my words dug up. Pretty sure it’s still apathy, which I initially said. There goes that linguistic therapy sesh.
Maybe next time x