Hypothetically speaking.

It Is There; Therefore I Want It

There is a famous saying used by many people [half of which don't understand it at all] that reads: “Less is more.” A simple enough concept, one would think. However if one were to venture down any aisle of a warehouse store, the “life lesson” seems less applicable. Really, who would buy a jar of mustard standing a foot and a half tall? Who could possibly use that much of one condiment before it spoiled?The truth is, the very appeal of excess is that is is just that: excessive. People, Americans especially, are consumed by the idea of more of everything and anything. Some would call it preparation, a simple preventive action to ensure there is always enough of the desired object; I would call it gluttony. In the modern world we strive for more material wealth, usually because it indicates a higher standard of living and expectations. But the question of the matter is, is it necessary? Why waste good food? Money? Effort? America as a whole is selfish. Its people are captivated with the idea of desiring something larger and then attaining it. While the dream is exceptionally noble, the outcome as indicated in both literature [such as with Gatsby] and everyday life is rather ruinous.

The desire to have something–anything–simply for the sake of having it, typically results from an impulse. The amount of candy bars bought at the last minute in Walmart, the junk items that pollute my own house from my father’s garage sale adventures, and the option to “supersize” a fast food meal [if not the fast food itself] all serve as proof. It is there; therefore I want it. Though it may sound like a line from a scene of Shakespearian text, the statement is simply the current mentality of the American public.

Perhaps there is some pyschological reasoning behind the gluttony. Perhaps the fear of loss, the fear of having bought an inadequate amount creates the problem. As sterotypical as it is, the mother of the household will typically be the one to venture out to the grocery store. Assuming most have visited one at some point in time, one can admit they can be quite daunting places. As the mother moves swiftly from aisle to aisle, planning for meals run through her mind, as well as the needed supplices for the coming alloted time before her return to her current position. Surely that mother wishes to provide enough for her family. Her thought process: Better to have more than have less and run out. [I'm sure you've heard a mother say that at some point.] Yet more times than not, some food products do go to waste, hidden behind the “more desireables” [i.e. chocolate].

The amount of food wasted in the United States alone could save countless lives from starvation. The money wasted on frivalities could be used to advance technological aid to people everywhere. Perhaps worse than the unnecessary desire for more is the fact that we are aware of our faults. Eating contests are the physical manifestation of gluttony–not to mention unhealthy and disgusting. Yet those eating contests still exist and people still, oddly enough, seem to find them entertaining.

A super-huge mustard jar is not the epitome of all things evil. It is however a symbol of the slefishness of a glutonous America. Whoever first uttered “less is more” is much wiser than the modern world believes.

 

 

Behind the Looking Glass

Depression cloats my mind. Or perhaps…depression is too vague a term. For I am not depressed in the usual sense of the word. I’m depressed for those around me. And thus I suppose the more appropriate word for my current state of mind is “worried”.

I’m concerned with so many things right now. Some of them directly affecting myself and partially under my control, some of them indirectly, leaving me utterly helpless. Obviously the latter of the two lead to more worry and frustration.

What makes the situation even more intolerable is my inability to articulate how I’m feeling. The best way in which I can describe it, is with the symbolism of a glass wall. The things I long for, the few things I want are on the seemingly unattainable other side. I can see them; I can watch as they sit there so far from myself. But I can do nothing to reach them. I’ve no way to scale a surface that is so slick. I’ve no way to go under. I’ve no way to go through. At least not yet. I feel as if right now I’m just waiting for someone to come along with a hammer.

Then the wall will shatter and I shall find peace once again.

//*Disclaimer: I did not take that picture. I do not know who the photographer is.

“How have you been?”

I’ve come to realize I hate those words. I really do. Perhaps hate is not the appropriate term.

But hearing those words–or worse, reading them–means only one thing: the person you’re now conversing with hasn’t spoken with you in a long time. Now whether it is through your “fault” or theirs makes no real difference; either way the blame is on both people.

This thought came to mind as I recalled I haven’t spoken with a friend of mine in months. Months. At first it simply left me saddened; I hadn’t had a chance to see the individual, let alone talk with them.

And then as I recalled our last conversation I realized that was how he’d started it.
And all I’d been able to do was smile and answer with the lie of “good”.
Why do we do that?

As a whole, if you were to ask anyone how they were their most likely answer would be “Oh, I’m fine”. But how often is that really true? Probably less often than it’s fact. Is it that we feel a need to hide our true feelings for the sake of a reputation? Is it a lack of respect enough for the person asking to give them a straight answer? Or is it perhaps that we’re scared that if we’re honest with the person then we have to be honest with ourselves?

Here lies the other dilemma; the second option is no easier. If I give myself time to ponder over an actual answer to the previous question I often times am left fidgeting for several painstaking, silenced moments. If they have reason to ask that question, then they haven’t seen me in quite a while, obviously. So how could I possibly recount how I’ve been over that amount of time when I often have trouble recounting how I’ve felt for the past hour? So much can happen in an hour–a minute even. It makes the question almost impossible to answer truthfully.

I know this all sounds horribly pessimistic. Really, I’m just trying to reason my way through it; I tend to find it easier to do when writing. The words simply come when I type, so I figured this case would be no different.
Yet now I feel as though I’m simply talking in circles. Perhaps the dilemma is merely a cycle of misdoings.

I suppose the first fault was my lack of communication. Correction: I know that was my first fault. However, by mathematical technicalities, a social life in which one never loses contact with anyone they know would be near impossible if not completely time-consuming. One would never have time to eat, let alone sleep.
So how can I possibly keep contact with these people and avoid that dreaded question?

Thoughts? Feelings? Comments?
Anyone?

Musical therapy.

I was surfing through songs, trying to find good ones to add to my playlist the other day. I came across one by Flyleaf. It’s called ‘Supernatural’. Now I wasn’t extremely familiar with their lyrics, so I was looking them up so I could read while listening. I pulled up the words as the song began to play. Then tears just started falling. The words were so beautiful. People that had lost everything, that had every right to give up hope…they still bowed their heads to pray. To thank God. To give Him praise. It humbles you, as my mom said. As a whole, we whine about so much. Such petty things…

He is teaching me what love really means.

I suppose this post will be centered on music.
Flyleaf in particular.

Another song I feel needs mention is “I’m So Sick”. The song doesn’t have the same effect as the previously stated…but it’s still so refreshing. What first captured me was the sound. To think a woman that has such a melodic and pretty voice can scream with such intensity is thrilling. Then, again, I took a look at the lyrics. There is a wonderful message there, one that needs to be heard. In this world, corrupted by the people that live in it, we see sins, crimes, acts of disgrace so often it becomes almost normal. We sit mindlessly watching, listening to the screams of the weak. Yet when we realize what is happening, we make no movements. Really the problem is an infectious disease, and we’re all suffering from it’s toxins.

This invasion makes me feel…
Worthless
Hopeless
Sick

I want to be cured.
I need my Savior for that.