This blog is inspired by something I read in my cohorts GREAT blog on Walk The Line entitled The Interview, he states "...what I saw reminded me of me. There’s one point in their talk where Joaquin’s whole body shakes, just for a moment, and he heaves a huge resigned sigh with an air of ‘I have to get through this, just a little bit longer.’ I have been there a million times. Law school, grad school, nothing I’ve tried has been able to alter the fact that when a lot of people are looking at me, I simply lose the ability to speak. "
We hate being without our masks. We would love everyone to think that we are intelligent and charming people without a care in the world which also just happens to be "our" personal oyster. What terror comes over us when we have nothing to say? Why does man fear silence so much? Some argue it is because someone else can fill in our words. I can honestly remember a few times I wish I had been silent and someone else had filled in my responses. The things we do to protect our egos and illusions border on monsterous. What we do to others when they fall below our expectations also border on monsterous. So one might argue should any of us accuse another of anything.
Fears; everybody's got em whether they lie about it or not. I remember being terrified of getting up in front of people or entering a room and even afraid to leave my own house on certain days. I wasnt ready. I couldnt manufacture the illusion that had so often protected me; but from what, myself? others? both? On any given day, it may all be true or it may all be false. We are a civilization parading traditions as though they were truth. Thats the problem with PGA; (for the born-under-the-pew folks, that means pure grain alcohol). We drown ourselves in the KoolAde of political correctness pretending that three fourths of the cup isnt already filled with PGA. It just tastes so good, it couldnt be bad/harmful...besides I feel good.
I am so glad to see some "regular sized" women on tv/media and a few housewives who arent that desperate. Unfortunately, the cougars are coming to devour any survivors. If image is king and we sell our children for cents; who will pay the national debt? Where is all this going and what does it mean....probably nothing, possibly everything. But who will be brave enough to say? Do protests matter if noone is offended or inconvienced? If I saved a fortune on my car insurance; isnt it ok that I left a little roadkill along the way?
The horror of absence lurks everywhere. Its blade is razor sharp and serrated for maximum chaos. Will we in the US have to go without something we took for granted? Will our illusion of security be trampled on again and when? Is it safe to buy anything new? Do I have a job tomorrow? The what ifs are countless and the potential for absence is a chasm twenty times the distance from our souls. I dont know the answer; but I have the hope and faith to keep stepping another day. Its no wonder people buying the coffee for the person behind them in line at Starbucks seems so miraculous to the news media these days.....
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