Prompt 3 {The Vessel}
Today's prompt asks me to write about a ship. I choose that great mysterious nonsensical ship. The relation-ship.
It was not until I thought about what to write and then considered that word ship that I came to realize that "relation"-"ships" are nothing more than vessels we cast ourselves away in as defence against the bewildering events of life. As a side note, I have become both aware of and comfortable with a fact which might alarm a sensible person, that I have missed the importance and meaning of almost all of life's occurrences, its comings and goings. Anyway back to ships…if you steady yourself for a long journey into the unknown it is best perhaps that one pack a sufficient number of socks and pairs of underwear. Check the inventory of necessities you have at the ready. All packed? Good. Setting off alone, are we? Hmmm. It is at this point in the journey that if you are at all like me then I suspect no matter how many pairs of undies and socks are stashed in your satchel it will strike, and it matters not one whit the number of emergency protein bars and bottles of spring water you have stashed about the place you will still feel the tug of unease pulling at your sleeve. That "I just can not put my finger on" type of ill-ease that plagues most of my visits to hairstylists.
And what is the source of this inability to sit still, to settle into the comfort and confines of an otherwise perfectly reasonable routine? The feeling that you have misplaced something important then I forgot whatever it was you forgot but think it must be important. An unsettled casting about which ultimately culminates in a "Eureka I remember! I have forgotten to hang an additional completely superfluous appendage about myself." I forgot to have, to be in, to seek out and plod along through life’s many splendours with my "RELATIONSHIP" in tow."
So I am not complete, I am not able to traverse the wilderness alone! Who will eat my toast? Who will tell me that I forgot to call and report my current position and ETA? Who will create a plethora of messes and un-fluff all my pillows? WHO WILL RELATE TO ME ON MY SHIP?
Yet somehow many are able to do just this, many of us seek out professions which support and in fact celebrate this purposeful and solitary lifestyle. And of course, many who do not seek to partner in the traditional, "Hey you stole half my toast" sense instead choose to partner loosely in other fashions, in communes or monasteries or as a professor emeritus on a campus somewhere.
Still, others are simple and sufficient enough in themselves that they live alone and do not seek out the companionship of so much as a goldfish. I alas am a stranger breed still.
For I do not willingly seek out companionship, yet feel the pains of its absence keenly and then in an effort to reduce the suffering I seek to suffer from companionship once again. For I am not really happy living with someone. And in my fantasies, I wake up with only my cat to accompany me to the toilet, and then listen to whatever music whenever I want, sleep when and where I desire and dance with wild abandon eating all my toast and leaving nary a crumb in my wake! Sounds good right? It is, having had this same perfection, this heaven on earth I can attest to its brilliance it is in short FUCKING FANTASTIC!
And yet however as soon as I am in the exact sweet spot position the perfection of me and my cat alone in harmony blissful in the rainbows cast off from my crystal sun-catchers, I look about me at the conspicuously absent lack of mess created by another; the lack of socks placed anywhere but in a laundry basket, the bits of things and fluff and clutter that if not mine are of an evil so industrious as to cause the fall of civilization as we know it, and something inside tugs at me in alarm and shrieks
"LOOKOUT you are alone on your ship who will you relate to? Who is here to HEAR you?"
And so my inner voice, that tiny one we are SUPPOSED to listen to
tell us "This is BAD henceforth you must venture out into the cesspool of humanity and find someone ANYONE to get underfoot as soon as possible!"
What the hell is wrong with me? Am I alone in this madness? Why when I am perfectly competent capable and content to pilot my ship alone do I seek to muck the place up? And are there others out there as sick perverse and self-sabotaging as I?
Yep. In fact, entire professions and industries are devoted to we poor suffering souls look no further than your therapist's couch or crunch gym and you will find all the evidence you need to confirm your darkest fears, that you alone is a un-natural state which must be remedied post haste.
And I suspect that the wild success of Social Media can be easily explained by that same insanity. A quick glance at most Facebook confirms that most posts are devoted solely to showcasing one's likability. Look here is me being liked by someone else, as evidenced by all the little likes my thoughts have garnered see me, here cooking something that shows I am not only likeable but am able to create something which looks entirely appealing when arranged with care on a bed of lettuce and of course with the correct set placement and lighting filters applied. See me staring wistfully off into the distance or cameras lens head half-cocked to one side looking ever so thoughtfully unposed in my well crafted several shots later pose to show just how attractive I am. Or, see me having now procured my ship's co-pilot how we together partaking of all the goodness that life has to offer are in perpetual bliss, just look at these casual smiles, clearly, we two are happier than you are because you simply are a sad sack of not us.
I know dear reader you suspect that I am wandering off the path here but I think this too merits dissection, for Social Media is nothing less than a mutation of the relationship. It is perhaps its most insidious and vile form the "socialationship"
And another thing.
Exactly when did humans become so goddamn vain, or has it always been so and I just missed the opening credits while fetching my popcorn? I get the need to connect with a greater world outside oneself, observe the steady stream of a thousand images of cups of coffee and plates of cleverly crafted bits of lettuce assaulting us daily through Facebook and Instagram feeds. What stops me dead in my tracks and makes me want to go back a few pages to make absolutely sure I have not missed the storyline is what the hell is with all these godforsaken selfies?
I clearly did not get the memo, the one which stated that all humility and common decency was to be completely abandoned by the roadside of our collective evolution.
People take note.
WE are not on the whole that attractive, nor are many of the activities we partake in and insist we share photos or videos of all that fucking interesting to anyone other than the actual participants and yet day in day out these self-absorbed proclamations of importance continue to spew forth over the internet, which by the way is marring a tool which was once in my opinion, an otherwise pretty freaking good invention, all in the name of making we mostly hairless, uniformly uninteresting collection of apes believe we are in fact interesting; and here's the really important bit; RELATIONSHIP material!
I fear it has been this normalizing of showing our conceit, this public celebration of the most mundane in us, which has so far lowered the bar of acceptable behaviours that it created the conditions for the perfect storm. Conditions in which the lowest faction of our ape collective could actually conceive of allowing an assembly of the very worst aspects of all humanity gathered into one hideous onerous ball of orange slime to run for and somehow gain the highest of public office.
It was a short hop from "look at me pick me like me and my clever arrangement of lettuce bits" to Kardashian worship to the inevitable culmination of all that is stupid vain and intolerable in human beings.
Donald Trump.
So it is here that I will close in saying that yes it is possible that relationships when viewed in the right light and put in the right place can be acceptable, are not truly "bad"
And that being generally liked and likeable can also be seen as acceptable if somewhat needy, human behaviour, however the relentless need to impress and in part possess someone is not. And I think that this is what lies at the root of all our mindless acts of selfish vanity and defenceless bad behaviours, that is what drives us to feel we are the better and far more select-able of our race. The search for that perfect flawless photogenic co-pilot is what our insecurities and failings in their relentless pursuit have created. To each their own self-crafted hell.
So I'll just take my toast and jam and devour it over here while you all flail about and 'Pardon me? No, of course, I wasn't that hungry anyway, please do; take half' *sigh*
It was not until I thought about what to write and then considered that word ship that I came to realize that "relation"-"ships" are nothing more than vessels we cast ourselves away in as defence against the bewildering events of life. As a side note, I have become both aware of and comfortable with a fact which might alarm a sensible person, that I have missed the importance and meaning of almost all of life's occurrences, its comings and goings. Anyway back to ships…if you steady yourself for a long journey into the unknown it is best perhaps that one pack a sufficient number of socks and pairs of underwear. Check the inventory of necessities you have at the ready. All packed? Good. Setting off alone, are we? Hmmm. It is at this point in the journey that if you are at all like me then I suspect no matter how many pairs of undies and socks are stashed in your satchel it will strike, and it matters not one whit the number of emergency protein bars and bottles of spring water you have stashed about the place you will still feel the tug of unease pulling at your sleeve. That "I just can not put my finger on" type of ill-ease that plagues most of my visits to hairstylists.
And what is the source of this inability to sit still, to settle into the comfort and confines of an otherwise perfectly reasonable routine? The feeling that you have misplaced something important then I forgot whatever it was you forgot but think it must be important. An unsettled casting about which ultimately culminates in a "Eureka I remember! I have forgotten to hang an additional completely superfluous appendage about myself." I forgot to have, to be in, to seek out and plod along through life’s many splendours with my "RELATIONSHIP" in tow."
So I am not complete, I am not able to traverse the wilderness alone! Who will eat my toast? Who will tell me that I forgot to call and report my current position and ETA? Who will create a plethora of messes and un-fluff all my pillows? WHO WILL RELATE TO ME ON MY SHIP?
Yet somehow many are able to do just this, many of us seek out professions which support and in fact celebrate this purposeful and solitary lifestyle. And of course, many who do not seek to partner in the traditional, "Hey you stole half my toast" sense instead choose to partner loosely in other fashions, in communes or monasteries or as a professor emeritus on a campus somewhere.
Still, others are simple and sufficient enough in themselves that they live alone and do not seek out the companionship of so much as a goldfish. I alas am a stranger breed still.
For I do not willingly seek out companionship, yet feel the pains of its absence keenly and then in an effort to reduce the suffering I seek to suffer from companionship once again. For I am not really happy living with someone. And in my fantasies, I wake up with only my cat to accompany me to the toilet, and then listen to whatever music whenever I want, sleep when and where I desire and dance with wild abandon eating all my toast and leaving nary a crumb in my wake! Sounds good right? It is, having had this same perfection, this heaven on earth I can attest to its brilliance it is in short FUCKING FANTASTIC!
And yet however as soon as I am in the exact sweet spot position the perfection of me and my cat alone in harmony blissful in the rainbows cast off from my crystal sun-catchers, I look about me at the conspicuously absent lack of mess created by another; the lack of socks placed anywhere but in a laundry basket, the bits of things and fluff and clutter that if not mine are of an evil so industrious as to cause the fall of civilization as we know it, and something inside tugs at me in alarm and shrieks
"LOOKOUT you are alone on your ship who will you relate to? Who is here to HEAR you?"
And so my inner voice, that tiny one we are SUPPOSED to listen to
tell us "This is BAD henceforth you must venture out into the cesspool of humanity and find someone ANYONE to get underfoot as soon as possible!"
What the hell is wrong with me? Am I alone in this madness? Why when I am perfectly competent capable and content to pilot my ship alone do I seek to muck the place up? And are there others out there as sick perverse and self-sabotaging as I?
Yep. In fact, entire professions and industries are devoted to we poor suffering souls look no further than your therapist's couch or crunch gym and you will find all the evidence you need to confirm your darkest fears, that you alone is a un-natural state which must be remedied post haste.
And I suspect that the wild success of Social Media can be easily explained by that same insanity. A quick glance at most Facebook confirms that most posts are devoted solely to showcasing one's likability. Look here is me being liked by someone else, as evidenced by all the little likes my thoughts have garnered see me, here cooking something that shows I am not only likeable but am able to create something which looks entirely appealing when arranged with care on a bed of lettuce and of course with the correct set placement and lighting filters applied. See me staring wistfully off into the distance or cameras lens head half-cocked to one side looking ever so thoughtfully unposed in my well crafted several shots later pose to show just how attractive I am. Or, see me having now procured my ship's co-pilot how we together partaking of all the goodness that life has to offer are in perpetual bliss, just look at these casual smiles, clearly, we two are happier than you are because you simply are a sad sack of not us.
I know dear reader you suspect that I am wandering off the path here but I think this too merits dissection, for Social Media is nothing less than a mutation of the relationship. It is perhaps its most insidious and vile form the "socialationship"
And another thing.
Exactly when did humans become so goddamn vain, or has it always been so and I just missed the opening credits while fetching my popcorn? I get the need to connect with a greater world outside oneself, observe the steady stream of a thousand images of cups of coffee and plates of cleverly crafted bits of lettuce assaulting us daily through Facebook and Instagram feeds. What stops me dead in my tracks and makes me want to go back a few pages to make absolutely sure I have not missed the storyline is what the hell is with all these godforsaken selfies?
I clearly did not get the memo, the one which stated that all humility and common decency was to be completely abandoned by the roadside of our collective evolution.
People take note.
WE are not on the whole that attractive, nor are many of the activities we partake in and insist we share photos or videos of all that fucking interesting to anyone other than the actual participants and yet day in day out these self-absorbed proclamations of importance continue to spew forth over the internet, which by the way is marring a tool which was once in my opinion, an otherwise pretty freaking good invention, all in the name of making we mostly hairless, uniformly uninteresting collection of apes believe we are in fact interesting; and here's the really important bit; RELATIONSHIP material!
I fear it has been this normalizing of showing our conceit, this public celebration of the most mundane in us, which has so far lowered the bar of acceptable behaviours that it created the conditions for the perfect storm. Conditions in which the lowest faction of our ape collective could actually conceive of allowing an assembly of the very worst aspects of all humanity gathered into one hideous onerous ball of orange slime to run for and somehow gain the highest of public office.
It was a short hop from "look at me pick me like me and my clever arrangement of lettuce bits" to Kardashian worship to the inevitable culmination of all that is stupid vain and intolerable in human beings.
Donald Trump.
So it is here that I will close in saying that yes it is possible that relationships when viewed in the right light and put in the right place can be acceptable, are not truly "bad"
And that being generally liked and likeable can also be seen as acceptable if somewhat needy, human behaviour, however the relentless need to impress and in part possess someone is not. And I think that this is what lies at the root of all our mindless acts of selfish vanity and defenceless bad behaviours, that is what drives us to feel we are the better and far more select-able of our race. The search for that perfect flawless photogenic co-pilot is what our insecurities and failings in their relentless pursuit have created. To each their own self-crafted hell.
So I'll just take my toast and jam and devour it over here while you all flail about and 'Pardon me? No, of course, I wasn't that hungry anyway, please do; take half' *sigh*
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