Age of Distortion The age of romanticism is dead. It’s been gone a long time, and we killed it. Simone weil once wrote “to be is to be vulnerable”, something I have held onto with great conviction since I first came across it in my youth. As an individual no lesser or greater than anyone else who walks this deserted plain, someone who stands beside all of you who have contributed to the great fallacy of pretension, I must, I do protest. We have replaced honesty with the pretension of being, vulnerability with character armour and worst yet, a true sense of self with an image created for others, and in doing so traded in honor for artifice. Vulnerability alone is human, we can’t break through without being broken, so what do we do, we protect and pretend and test and build our little shell to hide in. I’ve suffered the same fate, I am no different…although extremely reluctant, and have done so with deep regret. How much angst we must feel, struggling with the idea of apathy, as we grow older we give in to it’s seductive qualities…and seek the easier way to find our way through all the mud and grease. Well, that doesn’t make us strong, courageous or even survivors. All this does is to propagate weakness and complacency. All because we cave to fear, we hide from emotion and wince at sincerity. So, I must expect everyone to change? No, I can ask nobody such a thing. But I always ask why are so many people are in suffering, why lives end with such regret and disappointment. I can always come to one thought to rationalize all of this. I believe we realize at some point that within us all is the desire to be, like we were before we knew heart break. We realize that maybe, due to our actions, with all the characters we have created that a sadness washes over us in realization that no one ever loved, hated, judged or admired us for who we believed we really were, rather the person we pretended to be. I also present that the two aren’t that different, but maybe just lacking the more fragile parts of us. And lastly that the image of us, is no more important than who we truly are. Vulnerability is hard, dangerous and seemingly without reward. But, so is waking up one day not having any idea who you are or what people see in you, break downs are hard. Apathy is an easy fix, so is the creation of our shell, but it’s a temporary one. And I for one am no longer playing a part in the fallacy, or will die trying not to be. There is a movement for every damn thing you can think of, but a movement to attain a true fractured vulnerable, breakable body, is the only picket line I would take any interest in. “To be, is to be broken…your damn right!” -- Blake Satyr I welcome any comments, rebuttals or criticisms
Welcome to AD Blake. You're probably not familiar with the forum rules but posting your e-mail address is in breach of them. So you might want to edit that out. Stick around and keep checking your thread. It's thought provocative so you ought to get the desired responses soon.
