Sunday, May 16, 2010

Profundity, grief, depression

I wonder just how many lives are "ruined" (is it possible to actually "ruin" a life, an entire sequence of events in someone's life?) or how many moments, then, are reduced to nothingness, reduced to pale specters of themselves, in the confusion that results when depression is rendered equal, commensurate, with profundity, or made to seem desirable, these "deep" (are they truly so?) feelings of grief and misery, mourning and desperate deliberation, as somehow "worthier" than other thoughts, other feelings, other ways of viewing if life (and this is what these viewpoints put forward, implicitly - explicitly if you touch them to the quick, or annoy their proponents enough) had only one basic truth, one way of appearing, one "true" way of putting itself before the "ones who know"...and these savants, peering with unbent knees, stoic brows, and unswerving eyes into the void of existence's "true" meaning, could only mourn, grimly, looking into the past and the future with equal sapience...

And, as always, the unsaid remains so much more important and satisfying that what can be traced in hieroglyphics, messages to the unknown, the uncalled-for, the unseen...those who will never know, those who have to search their own lives to know...

No, I reject that. The last refuge of sanity is laughter. Laughter in the face of the ridiculous positions life puts one in, of course, but also laughter in the face of those who think they have "learned the patterns of life" and who then apply these ridiculous lessons to their own lives and the lives of others. Fate save us from the lessons of others! Fate save us from what other people "know"! Laughter in the face of those who would make strength out of weakness, who would bring the past into the future intact, bleeding, breeding, seemingly alive (yet only self-embalmed, the spirit of the sarcophagus taken for a carriage between potentials), laughter in the face of those who live life as a revenge - trying to right wrongs from years and years ago, wrongs buried in the dust, as natural as rain falling and the turning of leaves. Fate and sweet laughter save us from the needs of others to use us to fulfill the drama (self-played, they the only actors) of their own lives, that, in Shakespeare's words, become "a walking shadow, a poor player / That struts and frets his hour upon the stage / And then is heard no more" (Macbeth, 5.5.24-26). Fate save us from the wisdom and "profundity" of others, the judgments they have cast upon their lives and then, not satisfied with this, upon all life as well...our lives as well as the lives of others.

Fate save us from the boredom of other people's experiences!

U. Amtey
11:44 PM CST