 |
      |
|
|
I once told a friend recently that I thought people my age are starting to think about their lives in a way that they've never done before.
Then I began to think about school.
Then I began to think about symbols.
Then I began to think about the real world.
Then I thought about people getting out of their symbolic world, getting in touch with the real world. Finally.
Is it just a matter of people being stuck that makes them uncomfortable in situations wherein things can change?
It's almost primal. Like how, as adults, the fetal position still feels the most natural thing to be in.
But this change is an unusual one. Changes are supposed to be something different from the present condition. It presumes an original present and a target future. It's probably linked to fear of the dark, or more generally, fear of the unknown.
This change is all about going back. A fear of home.
Like, people were once something, shifted into another thing, and at their mid-twenties they're thinking about going back.
The way I figure it, people get stuck with some image of life they were used to or wanted that the moment they become independent, a crisis looms.
They say things you generalize about say something about you, generally. Ask your local shrink. The main criticism against personality theories is, in fact, that these theories basically reflect the background and personalities of the theorists themselves.
The way I figure it, I got stuck with some image of life I was used to or wanted that the moment I became independent, a crisis loomed.
A quarter-life crisis, likesay.
I didn't want to use the term, because "quarter-life crisis", although it pertains to some crisis associated with change and moving on with life, doesn't necessarily grip the present subject.
That of the fear of going back.
Usually, one wants to go back to the highs of high school and the comforts of college, dodging "harsh realities" of the "real world". Change becomes a threat and you make like a headless chicken in confusion.
A particular discussion drives a point home. People my age had formed expectations a few years back. They had wanted things for themselves and had formed a grand plan on doing it, thinking they'd be something in a particular period of time.
Then someone goes emo and starts a bandwagon going.
Then they write blogs.
Or do art. Write music. Participate in charity.
What's funny is that these people, they live in a third world country. And little do they know that a great majority of other people don't care about their emo shit. They don't care whether you've lost yourself and you're trying to find it somewhere. They don't care whether you've cracked your soul and buried your head in the depths of Hades.
What do they care about? Think Love Radio.
Or, Yes FM. Or other epitomies of baduy.
People who embody these in everyday life just let life pass by. They have more important things to attend to.
No, not that.
Life.
These people know what they are. They know how their hearts and minds tick. They have a clear picture of how to handle themselves and whatever confusion that may come their way.
Quarter-life crisis? Putang ina. Trabaho ba yan? Inuman na lang pare!
And it's simple. It might not be smart, but it's simple, the way these guys work. And I have a good feeling that successful people have tapped this gold mine in themselves.
It's anti-emo. Wonderful.
And so far, the thing I'm learning from this is that life can be full of shit, but it can only be if you keep the shit in.
-
Article written by Iņigo Mortel
