I have been spending a lot of time on Facebook lately. People fall out of worm holes, into my friends list and certain themes keep coming up. We who participate in the grand social experiment, get in the habit of summarising our lives into neat little paragraphs. The pictures all support the axiom that we are together, happy, and successful.
*See, here I am with my kids. See here I am in front of my Harley. This is my perfect wife and I, in an exotic locale. See all this supports the facade that I am awesome. You can tell I am awesome by how hard I am smiling.*
Then the emails go back an forth and the holes start to form. The pieces held by duct tape, start to loose their rigidity. The divorces, the first love they never got over, the dreams they never pursued. These things well up in the flock, and drive them to the computers, for Internet group therapy. We send flares into the void of cyberspace, in the vague hope that someone, anyone will see it, answer the call, and at least for a few minutes listen and understand, in ways the real people in our lives cannot.
I am a disciple of this behavior, and I offer this blog as evidence. It was a place I could tell the stories I can't get out in real life. It easier for me to be myself with spell check, photo shop and a little lag time between brain and mouth. It is impossible for me to be the way I am here, in real time. So I must count myself among the other faithful, looking for redemption. I am in line with the masses, hoping to be understood by those that aren't in my real life, and to show another side of the coin to those who are.
I think it says a lot about the world we live in that we have to go to these lengths to be understood. We all have a need to be seen, good, bad or indifferent for who we really are, or more likely who we think we are, or in my case, who I'd like to be more often. Even if the premise is pathetic, we must acknowledge the great creative outcome of these digital playgrounds.
A few things have come along in the last ten years that may have saved me from my eminent destruction. The opportunity to manage a few rock bands. The purchase of my first mountain bike, all the places it took me, the friends it gave me, and the demons it helped me outrun. Finally this blog, which has allowed me to scribble and find a few of you that liked watching me shoot my home movies onto this virtual page. It has been one of the coolest creative things I have ever tried, and I thank you all for the feed back and the great blogs you write. How I got through the days without them or you, I have no idea.
THANKS, YOU DAMN BASTARDS!!!!!
W.B.Z.N.
THANKS, YOU DAMN BASTARDS!!!!!
W.B.Z.N.
6 comments:
Going for the M.R.I. on Sunday morning, so I should know about the surgery on Monday or Tuesday. The plot thickens.
damn good use of your outlet, keep it up smartassssss
FL 200 is where santos lives.
I am a disciple of this behavior, and I offer this blog as evidence....You're a biker and a boarder and a musician. Even though they're disparate activities, you could probably rank them in order of which you're best at. Does that make the other two some sort of scam? Is only one of them truly you? or are they all you?
Is it absurd to strive to be the boarder you are while you're on the bike? If so, is it as absurd to strive to be the writer you are when you're not writing? (I get it, it's about eloquence in speaking, but I'm tryin' to make a point here).
What I'm getting at: is writing some sort of fake-out?
You're a writer. It's not something one pretends to be, something that will eventually show holes like a facebook persona...you are one. It's one piece plucked from the complex mass that makes up the person. There's no comparing it to other pieces, one being more authentic than another. The pieces all exist and complement...each manifested differently from the others.
Going to "these lengths to be understood" perhaps isn't so much a wail in the digital wilderness or group therapy, but rather is about one side of a persona finally having an avenue of expression that wasn't possible before.
No fake-out here.
...and I'd call you a BASTARD but I don't know you well enough....
Dang T.O.B.! I think the comment on the idea was better than the idea itself. I bow to you in thanks for the understanding words and for the compliment. I hope I can live up to the praise.
BTW around here BASTARD! is the highest form of flattery. Its my only number one hit and they want to hear it every night I play.
I want to call someone a bastard! :-)
Post a Comment