Up All Night: Soliloquy

I enjoy talking to myself, as I've already mentioned in passing while writing a different entry ("Anxiety, Uncertainty, and Other People: It's Complicated"). I think about Hamlet, the protagonist of Shakespeare's play of the same name. Hamlet gives so many speeches to himself. His thoughts race almost endlessly. His feelings careen wildly through the curves of manic anger, resentment, and depression. Hamlet really has no idea where he's going until he utters fateful and apprehensive words. One of the Hamlet's greatest strengths and weaknesses is that his words are his deed. Words can be a powerful deed, but the word alone is not always the entire deed. An ironic lesson for such a prolific wordsmith as Shakespeare to give us?

I've directly confronted this personal epidemic of talking too much and listening too little. How many Horatios are trying to give each of us good advice, as Horatio tried to help his friend Hamlet relax and focus his thinking*, while their advice is too long and too often ignored?

Hamlet also needs silence. In many cases, silence is a proxy for ambiguity. The incompleteness of human knowledge is a hallmark of what it means to be alive and deciphering our existence. It is commonplace that each individual must be content with the exotic vastness of what we cannot know. Yet Hamlet couldn't leave space to contemplate the things he didn't know. Hamlet filled every waking moment with talking, thinking, scheming, plotting, consorting, pondering...Hamlet sealed his fate in part through his inability to stop doing anything.

It is this balance of expressing my thoughts properly when I talk to myself and leaving space to consider the consequences of what I cannot know that I seek to keep practicing. I once asked my poetry professor about my practice of writing poems in great spurts, and then not writing for a similar period. I hoped my professor could alleviate my dry spells, but he did not offer me advice on that matter. My professor simply told me that I need to let my mind lie fallow sometimes, so I don't use everything I have at once. That was tremendously strong advice.

I also notice that I've talked too much at once sometimes when I would talk to my ex-girlfriend or when I talked to other women that I felt an interest towards. Perhaps I didn't feel secure enough, complete enough, confident enough to let go...and that's a shame.

I wish I had felt stronger during those interactions. I wish I had felt the strength to let go...that's not easy when you're feeling like you barely have the strength to hold on! Perhaps that's another lesson for me: don't try to hold onto something that you can't let go. I'm not really sure if that's true. There's only one way to find out, isn't there?

Yes, there's an insane, heart-pounding, wildly unforeseeable world that none of us can corner. That world is waiting for us to explore its endless boundaries. There's only so much I can tell you about that world, or about my portion of it. Eventually, you need to return to the world and experience it for yourself - just like I do!

*(To let it be, or not to let it be...that is the Shakespearean/Beatles question!)

Leap Into Song: "Telephone" and "Bad Romance" by Lady GaGa

This is the second installment of my recurring "Leap Into Song" series, where I examine my thoughts about different songs and artists that have influenced me. Previously, I covered the song "New Born" by Muse.

Currently, two of my favorite songs are "Telephone" and "Bad Romance" by Lady GaGa. I love writing while listening to these songs - their rhythms are food for my brain. They're also both catchy as anything I've ever heard before.

I love the defiance of "Telephone". I love the sustained beat. I love the independence conveyed by the lyrics: you could be spending time with me, but you blew me off. Now, I'm doing what I want to do, and I couldn't care less. It's a great feeling that the speaker communicates to us.

I love the lyrics "sometimes I feel like I live in Grand Central Station. Tonight, I'm not taking no calls, 'cause I'll be dancin'". I also love the progression of "I'll be dancin'", repeated several times. I always feel like I can take on the world when I hear that part of "Telephone". The spirit of the song matches whatever goal I have that I want to accomplish. There's some serenity in the knowledge that the speaker knows she'll be dancing. There's pride, defiance, and confidence. That's a fantastic group of characteristics to celebrate.

In "Bad Romance", I also like a lot of the progression in the music and lyrics. The cumulative, sustained effect is great. Each part of the song builds onto the next. "I want your ugly"/"I want your disease"/"I want your everything, as long as it's free"/"I want your love" is just great, as a formula - and it is a formula, one that is clearly evident, and almost poetic in nature: "I want [specific thing]", "I want [specific thing]", "I want [specific thing with extra detail]", "I want [overall quality that ties everything together]". It's a stanza! If it were in print, it would jump off the page. When I hear this progression in the song, its spirit flows through my mind, my arms, my legs -- all the parts of my body move. Yes, it's a crappy pop song! And it's poetry! It's a terrific combination!

"I want your drama"/"The touch of your hair"/"I want your leather-studded kiss"/"You're insane"/"I want your love" is also great. This section of the song is formatted similarly to the one I just discussed, but there are some key differences. "I want [specific thing]", "[extra detail]", "I want [specific thing]", "[extra detail]", I want [quality that ties everything together (repeat)]. The stanza repeats, but it's altered enough to retain its interest and vitality. I like that effect. 

Perhaps I'm especially inspired by the steady rhythms and the steadily increasing power of the repeated musical and lyrical ideas in "Telephone" and "Bad Romance". When I hear these songs, I feel more alive. I feel that I'm growing stronger and more dangerous. I like those feelings a lot! 

I also feel quite Nietzschean when I'm listening to "Telephone" and "Bad Romance", but that could be a whole other essay! It's probably the implied recognition of my own power and confidence that I feel when I hear these songs that reminds me of Nietzsche. Certainly, Lady GaGa is not a master craftsperson of music or lyrics, but her creations are an impressive craft of their own. Ultimately, why do people enjoy pop songs? The best reason to listen is to help feel better, and that's certainly true for how I feel while I'm listening to "Telephone" and "Bad Romance", and that alone is enough for me to recommend them to you.

Up All Night: Honesty

I love my friends. Joking and trading stories with my friends makes everything I do meaningful. I would choose not to live if I had to live alone. I've never realized how badly I needed other people in my life until I moved to a new place and had to establish an entire life for myself! The course is mine...time to play. Friends are one of things I have now that I haven't always had. I've been extremely diligent in my pursuit of learning social etiquette. However much I've embarrassed myself while travelling this path, I'm glad that I'm on it.

***

Earlier today, I swam with a few of my friends. I'm not an accomplished swimmer. Mostly I enjoy stretching, floating, and kicking my arms and legs around in a wayward and uncoordinated fashion. When I was very young, I had just moved into a new house with my parents. We had an above-ground pool. I was playing in it with some other kids my age, and my parents made me leave suddenly. They told me that I had to leave because some people were working on our deck, but all the other kids were still there. I found out that I had to leave because we were all going to eat. That's when I discovered the concept of the "white lie".

"White lies" are like breathing to me. So many people around me do it, and now I catch myself telling them so often, that I'm no longer sure if honesty in itself is a virtue. There are so many other priorities that I've observed people to place over honesty: comfort, personal safety, simplicity, time-saving, peace, politeness, discretion, flattery...there are so many reasons not to be honest that I can't even list most of them.

I still prefer friends who are too honest over friends who are too polite. I'll take honesty over politeness any day of the week. When I hear negativity or criticism, it's easy for me to have hurt feelings. It's easy because I tend to take criticism personally. That's the problem: what if people didn't take the observations of other people personally? Every human being is equally fallible, makes mistakes, screws up, is ignorant about most things...there's no shame in being wrong. There's only shame in refusing to make things right.

I prefer people who help me overcome challenges and improve my character over people who pretend that I am without flaws. I like people who have moxie. I like people who are assertive. Am I still going to use a lot of "white lies" in my daily life? Yeah, I am. I'm not sure what else to do. Honesty, in a social context, is one of those sticky prisoners' dilemmas: honesty past a certain point only works if everybody is using it, but people won't start being more honest by themselves. Who has to start?

I've learned an immeasurable amount in my life up to this point, and many of the things I've learned have taken me much longer to learn than most other people. I know sarcasm, snark, and white lies. I can deploy all of these in my interactions on a daily basis. Most people don't know that I used to have no idea how to do any of that. While I'm glad that other people understand me, I'm still puzzled that I need to learn how to hide my feelings to more clearly communicate with the rest of humanity! We are so weird.