Look at this memory...
Wednesday, 8 August 2012 @ 19:35 | 0 Comment [s]Freedom comes as we judge it.
Years ago, I was a little bird, caged in silently without the ability to sing.
Or so I had believed.
I had a voice that I never spoke with, and I never believed I could ever speak. Perhaps it was the fear, the fear of being wrong, perhaps it was the silence, but I never spoke.
And all that because I believed that I was never free to speak. And because I never spoke, I was deemed a silent weakling, incapable of thoughts, personal opinions and mental processes.
Trampled upon, imposed upon, mocked, bullied, if you will.
But as I speak to day, I speak with conviction.
There are many things that I believe in. I believe in honesty, I believe in sincerity and I believe in transparency. I believe in nurturing. I believe in restraint, self-control, and most of all, respect.
At the same time, there are many things that I do not believe in. I don not believe in extremes, for a start. Neither do I believe in insufficiency.
There are many extremities that we live around. One extremity would be the classical stereotyping. Like saying, "All animals are filthy." But of course, we know that this does not hold true!
I dislike going to extremes. It seems all too ridiculous, like a cult, a following. Even the simplest things like veganism and feminism can be so extreme that I frown upon it and its practices. I was extreme years before, going to the extent of defining myself - but truth is, who can truly define themselves?
Maturity, for example. What is maturity? Is it complete rationality to the extent of being unfeeling? Is it the complete abolishment of childlikeness? Or is it the balance between the lapses of childishness and rational adulthood?
There are no extremes as such. No individual can be truly mature, yet every individual able to balance the both are altogether mature. A 15-year-old boy can be much, much, more mature than a woman in her fifties. And why? Because the woman, due to her age, will be expected to be mature, and she would likely spend her capacity being a hundred and one percent mature. This ironically turns the other way, because there would be no balance in between. To her children, her behavior would be ridiculous, like a dictator's, even childish and immature. The boy, however, would seek to find the balance, because it is only expected of him to be mature only to that extent.
In every way, society is filled with extremes, that, when I do not live by, I am scrutinized and judged. Everything comes in pairs, in opposites. Who are we to deny the others of the freedom to live it, as I had been?
Of course, ironically, whilst trying to be of little extremity, when it comes to be neutral and less extreme, I am an extremist when it comes to that. It is, but, something I believe in, and identification is the first step to balance.
That aside, today amazed me. I was never much of a patriot, but I got blown away but my capacity to be one. Of course, patriotism is never thought about here, especially amongst youths. I guess, it's those propaganda radars above the heads of our people, that sniffs away at all the explicit messages sent away at us each year. Each year's theme song has a different effect, and this year's theme did not impress me one bit. I look back to the theme of 2005, and I smile. After all, memories are what makes us. When I got reminded that today would be, without a doubt, the "last time [we] would be celebrating as a part of the school", I nearly tumbled straight back into the depressive state I was in 4 months ago.
Lastly, I leave off today with a few lines from the song of the post, sing along, if you're inclined.
Every memory of looking out the back door[Song-of-the-post:Photograph] (Check out the top!)
I have the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for
It's hard to say it, time to say it