the shatter of earth's collapse
☂
Not that anyone will actually see this, but you might or might not have gotten the reference above...anyway. Please do note that this online journal has been fighting the battle of neglect and time, often on the losing end, and really does feel like some sort of blue elephant that one's got to keep somewhat alive. For the sake of tradition, I suppose.
(K) Yuan here.
linkage
blue birds flap fandoms + happiness + the lot where the ego centersit's all quite narcissistic, really.
Date: <$BlogDateHeaderDate$>
Time: 12:54 AM
Author:(potassium)
Permalink: isolation →
de profundis vis-a-vis #unicornmoments
"I used to live entirely for pleasure."
Reading Oscar Wilde's De Profundis, his letter to his lover from prison, since the exams have ended. (horribly i might add) He may not have been the greatest philosopher to have ever lived, but the profoundness of this man in common public knowledge is vastly underrated. I cannot claim him to be an excellent man, without his pride and some sense of narcissim, but i would certainly have liked to talk him. To be a rat in his cell and sit quietly in the corner, hoping to ease his pains but at the same time, knowing that it is a journey that he alone must take. A brave soul who seeks Truth, and beauty in it. One who has lived in the excesses of his time, and has now fallen so far, so deep.
Of course, the question would always be "WHY BOSIE, WILDE?? WHY?!". Yet it seems necessary that the path should turn the way it did. At least, that's how he writes it. To keep Love in his heart, he says. and for this letter to bring us the gifts that he has.
I don't intend to place him on a pedestal, as tempting as it might be. It would be an ignoble measure. But, i guess i really would have liked to speak to him, to witness, perhaps, Beauty. Because he is, or he can be, a beautiful man. He speaks of a search for Truth that is the meaning of an artist's life, an artistic soul, if not the life itself of all men. He puts to words what Goodness means. And for a young creature at crossroads and swimming in dilemmas, it does help to feel like someone understands, someone knows the way to... where, exactly?
I don't really know what i'm getting at.
Y'know, all there means to life is to be a good person. Even without arguing about specific definitions of 'good', most of us can agree on that. At least, I do. And, silly me, thought that would be enough to tide me into real life, throughout adulthood and all that. But reality hits you and, when you've finally come to terms with yourself, having gone through all the internal peace making and reflection and sensitized philosophizing, you wake up and realize that while you've been cooking up a theory of Life, The Universe, and Everything that would definitely solve all of life's problems, everything tangible has gone on without you. 18 years old, almost at least, 12 years in school and when faced with writing school-leaving documents you realize you have nothing to show for. No awards for competitions, barely passable grades, no scholarships or 'great things' in sight. A brilliant theory and outlook and everything and shit, and not a single person can look at you and believe that.
I mean, one of the things that you're told, and that you believe, growing up, is that you will do well and achieve some form of greatness, or excellence and recognition in your field, when you are an adult. At least, that's what I believed. At this point someone would come in, tsking at the past tense and go "Darling of course you're going to be great, don't go doubting yourself" or sprout some theory of how greatness is defined ("not by grades or acheivements in school"). But what if I can't even be my own greatness? What if I can't even be good, when I have set my own bars? I look to other people - Oscar Wilde, Stephen Fry, great big theatre people - i search for Truth as much as possible in what I do, the manner in which i do things, I judge by means of Beauty, I seek Beauty and Truth for pleasure, to a point where Pleasure becomes all I seek. Do i need a conviction, a jail term where I am educated in Sorrow, in Pain behind which there is no mask, in order to seek Truth, to be a better person, if not good? Where is all this leading? I thought I had a Bosie - I did, i was angry - but turns out, the hold was not strong enough to survive tactic or for it to become monstrous, as it did for Wilde.
perhaps it is incredibly preposterous to compare myself to someone like Oscar Wilde. to parallel myself, even. But in a very silly manner I suppose i hope that this is leading somewhere. That Oscar's theories, which lead him to his places, would lead me also to mine, which at this point are as mysterious to me as to, well, anyone.
The truth is, reality never matches your dreams, or your theories. You want to become an artist and to live the better parts of life - doing research, discovering things, creating businesses - and you want to do it in a country you think greatly of, which, in actual fact, has a more limited system. You look at other places, sure, exciting and all, but you know you're never going to get in. And all that money... with what you have right now - nothing to show for, no grades, awards, prospects of scholarships - you're a waste of your parent's money if you get sent to university. You'd love it, sure, but you wouldn't get anywhere. A mediocre to failure, wandering about trying to prove your Theory right.
Not even my friends think I can do better. And after this post I would simply go back to old ways, same as always, because 'habits are hard to break'. I haven't got the habits of an 'excellent person'. I have that of those too used to pleasure, to fufilling the hunger for beautiful things, of things that are pleasurable, even if they include truth and all that. I haven't got it in me to face more than that, have i.
You know what you want, you know what you'd like to be. You simply haven't got the reality to go be it.
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