Clearly my blogging habits haven't improved since Xanga.
This would be a problem, of course, if anyone read this at all. And that's what this thing has in common with the old one.
No hard feelings. Not really.
Without the constant pressure of impressing and satisfying adoring fans, I can take as long as I like to put a few words in. So it's not really a problem.
It's not odd for me to wax thoughtful during such late hours as these. Quite a few things have happened despite the fact that my life has decelerated considerably since I graduated from college.
Oh, right. That.
I got my B.A. in English. I'm pretty proud of it and I don't regret any of the effort and time I put into it. I got more than I wanted out of my pursuits and the gifts haven't stopped coming. The conversations I have with my friends whilst analyzing media have been greatly augmented by my education. The gift of critical thinking keeps on giving as well, but the balancing act between descending into deepening shadow and performing the mental gymnastics necessary to continue to look at the world in a positive light is becoming more precarious as I age. So I guess one could call my studious avoidance of the current rat race for president cheating. If he or she wanted to.
That stuff's mostly theater anyway.
I also left Facebook. It was like leaving a loud, bustling party as discreetly as possible, but without telling anyone. I believe that quitting it cold would offer me the most peace. Besides--I was on the last stretch to completing the second version of my Dune paper, and did not need or want one more distraction. Since I haven't bragged enough yet: my professor loved it. It compelled her to read Dune. That made me incredibly happy. I hope she's gotten around to it. I think I'll ask her about it sometime. Preferably after I've secured something more or less resembling an actual job. So I can have something to say about my post-college life that amounts to more than playing Fallout games and binging on Pretty Little Liars for months on end.
I don't hold that those are necessarily bad ways to spend my time. I'm quite tired of our culture's habits of skewing the values of productivity and leisure. In my opinion, life's too short to spend the rest of it dashing from one task to the next, trying to fill up the days with stuff. Stuff that would be deemed by most to be worthy of the time spent. I believe it was Tolkien who said that if we spent more time enjoying good food and laughter than pursuing and counting gold, the world would be a happier place. So, within the limits unfortunately imposed by our capitalistic system, I'm going to try to be happy by doing absolutely what I have to and not much else. What I'd really like to pour my energy into is love. And furthering my personal education by reading, talking with people, and experiencing life. That matters much more to me than amassing a large heap of money. Even though the cost of living continues to increase. The mocking bastard.
But back to the reasons why I left the website that's got the world by the things it Likes. Though I had been suffering from this effect for years, I didn't actually realize it until last fall. Scrolling through the updates from people I went to school with back when Pangaea broke up made me, at best, irritated and at worst, depressed. For many different reasons. Another picture of a baby dressed up in a Star Trek or Dr Who costume? No, thanks. Sigh. You traveled outside of the country and apparently feel the need to post every grinding detail of it? I really don't care. Sigh. There's no way you actually seriously think Wal-Mart is incredible. That notion in itself is incredible. And please stop inviting me to play Castleville with you. And, yes, unfortunately, envy would eventually get the better of me as I scrolled further down into manufactured disappointment with my own life. I learned three things in Social Psychology nearly two years ago:
1. People like to be liked.
2. People like to be right.
3. People want to belong.
And there's nothing wrong with those basic desires. They're fundamental to human existence. But unfortunately, Facebook gives people the tools to go ham on pursuing those three desires and that's where its soul-vacuum flips on. My heart would sink every time I saw another picture of an engagement ring or a bridal veil. The smiling crowds and smooching newlyweds. That news wouldn't have hurt nearly as much as if I'd heard it from someone via word of mouth. It's the kind of situation where I would say "Wow. That's great," and move on with my life. But with Facebook, the party continues with the posting of hundreds of photos that hit the heart like a blast of microscopic flechette rounds. Questions like What am I doing with my life? and Tick tock. Why aren't you married yet? would materialize and flood me with more disappointment. Of course, I could hide such posts, but it was like living in a house with a major ant problem--no matter how much I tried to get rid of them, they just kept coming. And that's something to expect at my age. This is the part of life where many people get married, and that's a fine thing. For them. I hope so, anyway. However, Facebook created feelings of panic and despair that weren't supposed to be there in the first place. So there you are.
Moreover, I saw this girl I went to high school with in the same semester I was sweating over my Dune paper at a department store. As I had not seen her for about four years, I wanted to catch up with her, and when I began to tell her about the things that had happened to me in that time, she stopped me and said something like "Oh, it's okay. I know it all already. I've been checking up on your Facebook." I cannot even begin to describe the revulsion I felt in that moment. What's the point of us even being friends when you're stalking me on Facebook and not even bothering to say something? Maybe I'm still stuck in the twentieth century.
It's kind of funny how fascinated I am with the future, considering that when the real thing manifests itself, I find myself utterly alienated. This'll bode well for the rest of my life.
People unintentionally (hopefully, for the most part) hurt others by posting their lives' greatest hits on a daily basis. Who knows how many people felt sad about their own lives because I posted about the beginning of a new relationship or a new job? Nothing reminds you that the universe couldn't care less about your life quite like when you really sit down and think about the pointlessness of the whole thing (that thing being Facebook). I hold that we can create meaning in our lives and make it through that way. So, to me, by that point anyway, nothing I or anyone else posted meant a damn thing. When I finally realized that Facebook was doing little else besides standing in the way of my happiness and peace of mind, I had to leave.
Everybody leaves
If they get the chance
And this is my chance
I'll hit the bottom and escape
Hit the bottom and escape
Escape
Gamergate and the two catastrophic breakups I endured last year only exacerbated matters. Again, I could have hidden them too, but their comments on others' pages would still appear and I couldn't handle it. The world has already moved across the street and next door. Facebook squeezed the people who hurt me into my personal space and I wanted no more of it. So I left them there as well. And I'm much more at peace for it.
I filled in for teachers at the middle and high schools in the area to pay for gas, food, and a few Aphex Twin albums here and there up until about June. Settling into the changes in my life proved difficult sometimes. I miss being able to go out to lunch with my friends before my afternoon classes. I miss studying for Shakespeare tests with my desperate classmates. And discussing semiotics and cultural norms around the big table in the conference room in the English Department wing. I had the chance to connect with some very sweet sixth graders while filling in for a science teacher at a middle school, though I had only two days with them. Most of my stint subbing earlier this year consisted of reading at the teacher's desk and occasionally passing out worksheets or tests. The teachers with the good classes are very lucky.
I began my long return journey into fantasy reading by devouring The Name of the Wind and The Wise Man's Fear by Patrick Rothfuss and now I'm rereading The Fellowship of the Ring. I plan to finish the rest of The Lord of the Rings, to read The Magicians by Lev Grossman, possibly read Brave Story by Miyuki Miyabe, and then begin the Harry Potter books again. Some days it's hard to abide my science fiction books' languishing on the shelves. But don't worry, my pretties--I won't be gone long.
There's one more thing that I probably should mention that would bring us up to date. But what I'm going to say hasn't come together yet. I need the right words to fall into place first.
This Heretic is getting a bit drowsy cruising the shadowy, neon-lit streets in The Sprawl of cyberspace. I wanted to make some kind of cyberpunk reference, but seeing as how that fell on its face is evidence that I'm running on fumes. I'll be back relatively soon.
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