Someone once told me that I was a walking contradiction. I suppose they were right. I would classify myself in that small group of people who proclaim they are lovers not fighters. In fact, I hate fighting so much that I avoid confrontation at all cost, but nevertheless, it seems to find me somewhere, especially when matters of the heart are involved. Lately, I have been thinking about love. The action of loving and what the word actually means. If you ask me, I would tell you that I have only been in love once. This period was chronicled by high phone bills and sappy playlist. I loved under and over the percieved measures of love. I was in love. Unconditionally, I would have given my life for the same love in return. Under loves spell I made mistakes. I suppose in that sense love is blind.
My first obvious recognition of love in return was a lot less dramatic. It involved throwing up and throwing tantrums - tantrums that led to disagreements, which led to fights. I realize now that I was only fighting love, how to say and convey it. That stinging feeling in my heart when I have been let down or tortured by uncompromising smiles and promises. For this I can say that love hurts. And most of the time this is how we all love. We fight. We fight for the right to love, to be in it, tangled in all its highs and lows. For the same feelings to rush over our bodies.
And so I fight again. I fight the feeling of disbelief. Love doesn’t exist. All the hurting and pain doesn’t equate to love. Or do we hurt the ones we love? Is this love actually?
I look deeper each time I love. Distinguishing from liking, caring, and loving. I suppose there are levels of love. But just how will I know?
How will I know when love is standing right in my face? Will love answer my questions? - Although I never seem to answer the questions that love brings.
So then I think I am in love. And this is brilliant. No, I don’t tell the whole world. At first it is just whisper. I might not even tell my love - for love is too taboo. I will wait months, years, lifetimes to say what my heart has felt the entire time. But by then love has come and gone, and I must began this process again. The battles the rapture the spirit.
The second time I fell in love I wasn’t sure but convinced that if I wrote it down it would come back to me. It fell off the page.
And after all this I find myself questioning the ability of love again. Will I be loved in return? Will it hurt?
“My reality” raises even more far-reaching and dire questions about the state of our culture, one in which the very concept of “reality” seems to be in danger. Think of “reality” entertainments, which so unnervingly parallel the faux-memoirists’ appropriation of others’ authentic emotional experience: in them, real people are forced to endure painful or humiliating or extreme situations, their real emotional reactions becoming the source of the viewers’ idle gratification. Think of the Internet: an unimaginably powerful tool for education but also a Wild West of random self-expression in which anyone can say anything about anything (or anyone) and have it “published,” and which has already made problematic the line between truth and falsehood, expert and amateur opinion, authentic and inauthentic identities, reality and fantasy.
I just finished The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell. This book offers a lot of insight into trends, mind manipulation, and consumerism. From an economic stand point I would say the book is useful in helping recognize trends and gives insight into how to market a product. In the twenty first century everyone and everything is a brand. But the level of mind manipulation that Gladwell goes into is amazing. He gives examples of the level advertisers and marketing execs reach to sell things, like education. His example of Sesame Street and Blues Clues are really astounding. The level of mind control for both shows would make you think twice about educational programming. Usually when I read books I find things from my everyday life that relate to what I am reading and shortly after I started The Tipping Point I would see human behavior from the outlook that Gladwell presents in this book. (Subtle mind manipulation on Gladwell’s part - to influence the reader to see things differently). I noticed that people imitate people unconsciously everywhere. In fact, I don’t know if we ever think for ourselves. It is the rare human beings that are able to think outside the box or for themselves that create the trends. They manipulate minds. Or according to Gladwell, they are the Mavens of society.
One of the many things that I love about being a journalist and being around other like minded writers is that we are always looking to expose something. Journalist tend to either slant to the left of doing the right thing or just write about the wrongs. Here is an example of journalism working its hardest… anyone can report the truth. Trusting the internet and government that is up to you.
“Racism is simply an ugly form of collectivism, the mindset that views humans only as members of groups and never as individuals. Racists believe that all individuals who share superficial physical characteristics are alike; as collectivists, racists think only in terms of groups. By encouraging Americans to adopt a group mentality, the advocates of so-called “diversity” actually perpetuate racism. Their intense focus on race is inherently racist, because it views individuals only as members of racial groups.”—Ron Paul