Yesterday, while with my friends (one, my best friend, a girl; the other, her boyfriend, a boy) and their romantic habits, walking through the streets of Glenview like a bunch of late-night delinquents, I was struck by an epiphany (actually, the epiphany came hours earlier, but this setting is far funnier, and entirely true).
My epiphany? My brilliant idea destined to revolutionize the fiction industry--a novel about love, written by a young'in, and written for young and old alike? Thanks for asking! It struck me as I walked that late-night street: alone in the dark, unfortunately listening to my friends quite blissfully showing/macking their profound love for one another.
A great image, I know. But I was there.
Anyway, "revenons au mouton", as my french romantic-minded cousins would say; it struck me that this frustration I'd been feeling (that had been slightly amplified by the sheer bliss of my enamored buds, though one could say they themselves are quite beyond the budding stage of their feelings for one another) was probably because of pent-up moments, feelings, thoughts, and memories not yet driven to the point of sheer beaten-to-death awkwardness with my exes.
Oh.
If one hasn't been taking notes of my recent history or brain patterns, one should take into account that I'm very relationship-oriented. A lot of "ex" stuff floating around in life. Yes, it's quite grand.
Anyway, I was struck with the idea to write a book, a chronicle of a disenchanted lover of love. This is one with many exes with whom he has left things unsaid, and who finds himself lost, unable to feel that emotion most essential to him-- all because of tinfoil-wrapped, two month-old, leftover love. And believe me, that leftover love stanks, and it probably doesn't even want to be eaten. In fact, he's sure it doesn't; being revisited is the last thing it wants, but he still finds its aroma savory and sweet. Enough metaphor? I believe the image has been put across as to just what this boy is feeling.
Anyway, he has to do something with himself. Something. Lazy, imprudent, rude or just plain drastic, he doesn't really care. Something. Something is all he needs, he thinks, to set him he free--if that's even what he wants--and boy, is he afraid of that, too. That something that he decides on, though foolish, is this: full frontal, uninhibited, face-to-face, surprisal meetings with those he has fallen in--and, except for one--out of love with. No surprise cell phone calls late at night, no "let's set up a meeting" nonsense, but straight-up, doorstep style surprise encounters.
No, it's not a good idea in the least.
Yes, there are better, more civil, far less creepy ways to reconcile and free the soul with one's lost loves. But...since when has that been worth anything, and since when has that level of creativity been sufficient for a novel? Anyhow, I am highly determined, if not destined, to write this novel,
Then, of course, I find out that there is a John Cusack movie revolving around a similar theme.
Well, to that great inconvenience, I say that I am going to go even DEEPER into that iconic quest, I will put even MORE sinister, sickening pressure on the main character and his contingents (which is far too cold of a word for those for whom he has felt things so deep and burning and passionate), and I will make it known that one does not have to be an adult to be able to express onself in such a manner.
And who knows? They might even make a better movie about my book, non?
I think it's a great captured thought, a formidable starting line. Wish me luck.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Dialectics: Love And Faithfulness
When in love, it's now assumed (for men and women) that both partners remain faithful to one another. Regardless of the circumstances, if they are continually bound by a serious relationship, they would be looked down upon for being unfaithful.
In writing my short story, however, I explore the mind of someone who falls out of love, and someone who could very well become unfaithful, but is bound to his partner by guilt.
In this situation, love has been lost. It is still fresh in his memory, he knows it was very valid, but he feels he has to put on a mask to be a faithful "lover" of sorts. When one is engaged to someone, the common understanding is that the two should be in love, like these two. But when put in this main character's position, one may likely choose to bury their emotions, and stay faithful. This is commonly the nature of how we act; when we discover we are in love, people frequently hide it for a while, waiting/hoping that the person with which they are in love will turn up and proclaim their feelings for them as well, and when someone falls out of love, they may bottle it up for the sake of (take your pic) kids, their economic future, the relationship/freindship as a whole, and the possibility of a change of heart.
But, in seeing this, we know that being faithful does not always mean we have to be in love. Just as some people in love will choose to be unfaithfull because they are, say, sex addicts, some people with no mutual feelings will be faithful. They may do it just because the idea of having a real functional relationship, regardless of emotion involved, means more to them than to be in a relationship in which love is truly a foundation, without which it cannot stand. The knowledge of having a relationship is worth more than the love that comes with it, in other words. That, at least, is the shallow possibility.
In trying to find a solution to this, one would be dealing with matters of he heart, AKA (almost) uncontrollable chemistry, chance, and how attractive you can possibly at any given moment without looking like you're trying too hard. Also, faced with the knowledge that one's partner no longer feels love for them, but is remaining faithful (for whatever their reason meay be, as explained above), one would likely NOT do what is recommended (end the relationship, realize that there are more fish in the sea) and decide to stay with his/her "lover" until the ship can simply noo longer stay afloat. What they don't know is that it's likely it already has sunk, and they're both just waiting for it to simply become too uncomfortable for a relationship to exist. Many of us can relate to this from experience, but still don't exactly which action is right--work at a relationship and really try to keep it going withouu exploring other avenues, or end it because the love simply isn't there anymore.
I deny that the time during which someone has been in a relationship really matters in the decision-making; one can be in a relatinshiip for less than a month and find they are in love regardless.
I deny any feeling that would suggest exploring other people is a good decision; an honest, true, and faithful break is better for people's affection cordiality than anything else (at least, this is what we mostly find to be truth.)
So what should one do? How can these two terms, these two states of being and action, exist together without any faults? Can we make a general statement and rule in the best interests of ever relationship? Well, as some famous person once said, "for every complicated problem, there is a simple, and wrong solution." I, for one, agree with this wholeheartedly. Every relationship must solve its problems individdually, as they are all different (if only incredibly slightly) and they all deal with different personalities. So, there is not one solution for everything, for maintaining that love and faithfulness go together, and one is not left without the other. But, some guidelines may be good to keep in mind:
-Do not cheat. Do not. You hhve made a commitment and even sociopaths should know this is morally wrong.
-If you're going to say "I love you," you'd better mean it. A lie as big as that can not go down well, I believe many people can tell you.
-The person you are in a relationship with hopefully loves you just as much as you do them. If this is not the case, one has to let go. Maybe then, they may see what they were missing, and maybe in leaving them, you will see what you were missing in the outside world.
Maybe.
And this is where love always gets messy.
In writing my short story, however, I explore the mind of someone who falls out of love, and someone who could very well become unfaithful, but is bound to his partner by guilt.
In this situation, love has been lost. It is still fresh in his memory, he knows it was very valid, but he feels he has to put on a mask to be a faithful "lover" of sorts. When one is engaged to someone, the common understanding is that the two should be in love, like these two. But when put in this main character's position, one may likely choose to bury their emotions, and stay faithful. This is commonly the nature of how we act; when we discover we are in love, people frequently hide it for a while, waiting/hoping that the person with which they are in love will turn up and proclaim their feelings for them as well, and when someone falls out of love, they may bottle it up for the sake of (take your pic) kids, their economic future, the relationship/freindship as a whole, and the possibility of a change of heart.
But, in seeing this, we know that being faithful does not always mean we have to be in love. Just as some people in love will choose to be unfaithfull because they are, say, sex addicts, some people with no mutual feelings will be faithful. They may do it just because the idea of having a real functional relationship, regardless of emotion involved, means more to them than to be in a relationship in which love is truly a foundation, without which it cannot stand. The knowledge of having a relationship is worth more than the love that comes with it, in other words. That, at least, is the shallow possibility.
In trying to find a solution to this, one would be dealing with matters of he heart, AKA (almost) uncontrollable chemistry, chance, and how attractive you can possibly at any given moment without looking like you're trying too hard. Also, faced with the knowledge that one's partner no longer feels love for them, but is remaining faithful (for whatever their reason meay be, as explained above), one would likely NOT do what is recommended (end the relationship, realize that there are more fish in the sea) and decide to stay with his/her "lover" until the ship can simply noo longer stay afloat. What they don't know is that it's likely it already has sunk, and they're both just waiting for it to simply become too uncomfortable for a relationship to exist. Many of us can relate to this from experience, but still don't exactly which action is right--work at a relationship and really try to keep it going withouu exploring other avenues, or end it because the love simply isn't there anymore.
I deny that the time during which someone has been in a relationship really matters in the decision-making; one can be in a relatinshiip for less than a month and find they are in love regardless.
I deny any feeling that would suggest exploring other people is a good decision; an honest, true, and faithful break is better for people's affection cordiality than anything else (at least, this is what we mostly find to be truth.)
So what should one do? How can these two terms, these two states of being and action, exist together without any faults? Can we make a general statement and rule in the best interests of ever relationship? Well, as some famous person once said, "for every complicated problem, there is a simple, and wrong solution." I, for one, agree with this wholeheartedly. Every relationship must solve its problems individdually, as they are all different (if only incredibly slightly) and they all deal with different personalities. So, there is not one solution for everything, for maintaining that love and faithfulness go together, and one is not left without the other. But, some guidelines may be good to keep in mind:
-Do not cheat. Do not. You hhve made a commitment and even sociopaths should know this is morally wrong.
-If you're going to say "I love you," you'd better mean it. A lie as big as that can not go down well, I believe many people can tell you.
-The person you are in a relationship with hopefully loves you just as much as you do them. If this is not the case, one has to let go. Maybe then, they may see what they were missing, and maybe in leaving them, you will see what you were missing in the outside world.
Maybe.
And this is where love always gets messy.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Blogging around
In this segment of "Blogging Around", I reviewed Leanne's and Emily's posts on Best of Week and What If?
Leanne's post covered the concept of sight, and perceptions. She spoke of the blind man in "Cathedral", who in some ways knew more and could see more than the close-minded, bitter husband, whose eyes were working perfectly well. Leanne adressed the fact that sometimes, seeing things, especially the brutal things of this world, can affect someone more than actually experiencing the same event. I found this whole post very intriguing, and wrote:
"Leanne, I thought this was really interesting(your favorite word ;]). Especially your last quote, "And if you can see, don't miss up the opportunity to see everything." It's strange to hear that for me, because I find we can almost never truly see everything there is to see, though we may try so hard and focus on knowing all. In fact I wonder, is it better to attempt to see everything, and be dissapointed at the slightest surprise once it is revealed that one cannot see all, or rather to be content in the knowledge that is presented to yourself, while still seeking to have a better understanding? Wow, that's a lot of words. Anyway, I enjoyed your insight and certainly agree that those who cannot see may have an entirely different outlook on the world; why is it that blind people are not more commonly heard of in philosophical discussion, I wonder?
I vote next year's freshman should have an intelligent blind student; maybe we can all learn something."
Emily's post on What If: Short Stories revolved around the pressures of finding a hidden meaning and being forced to put them in her stories, and how that may affect the outcome for the worse. I have felt this frustration many times, and I felt that this new short story assignment was just the one for the job of erasing those fears from our minds for the time being. So, in response to Emily's post, I noted:
"Emiqua,
I feel you. Well, actually, I'm coming at the situation from a slightly different point of view, but I've been exactly where you are before. I think we can relax a little bit on worrying over whether or not Mr. Allen will ask us to *insert hidden meaning here*, because I feel as though if we follow the directions, gestures, and form as content, meaning will come into the things we write, hopefully almost as reflex. If not, no big deal, non? As you said, we're supposed to write a story with STORY and CONTENT, and not a labourious over-emphasis on the lesson of the day. Perfect. I too agree that ever since I heard the words "hidden meaning" and "deep" slither out of a teacher's mouth, it added a whole layer of inauthentic and forced meaning to something that we'd rather just enjoy/interpret for ourselves, and to try to apply that to one's own short story may just be crossing a line. A meaning shouldn't be forced, I find, and if you end up having one, wouldn't it be better to discover after having written the story? I'd love a moment like that, personally.
Anyway, I think this is the perfect kind of assignment for letting all those worries go, and I think you're doing just the right thing by sitting down, using what you know, and just trying to make the best short story you can. Leave the deeper meaning treasure-hunt to the poor 6th graders who just discovered that literature will mean getting beat over the head with political context and "hidden insight" for the next three years-- we've got fun stories to write. :]"
Leanne's post covered the concept of sight, and perceptions. She spoke of the blind man in "Cathedral", who in some ways knew more and could see more than the close-minded, bitter husband, whose eyes were working perfectly well. Leanne adressed the fact that sometimes, seeing things, especially the brutal things of this world, can affect someone more than actually experiencing the same event. I found this whole post very intriguing, and wrote:
"Leanne, I thought this was really interesting(your favorite word ;]). Especially your last quote, "And if you can see, don't miss up the opportunity to see everything." It's strange to hear that for me, because I find we can almost never truly see everything there is to see, though we may try so hard and focus on knowing all. In fact I wonder, is it better to attempt to see everything, and be dissapointed at the slightest surprise once it is revealed that one cannot see all, or rather to be content in the knowledge that is presented to yourself, while still seeking to have a better understanding? Wow, that's a lot of words. Anyway, I enjoyed your insight and certainly agree that those who cannot see may have an entirely different outlook on the world; why is it that blind people are not more commonly heard of in philosophical discussion, I wonder?
I vote next year's freshman should have an intelligent blind student; maybe we can all learn something."
Emily's post on What If: Short Stories revolved around the pressures of finding a hidden meaning and being forced to put them in her stories, and how that may affect the outcome for the worse. I have felt this frustration many times, and I felt that this new short story assignment was just the one for the job of erasing those fears from our minds for the time being. So, in response to Emily's post, I noted:
"Emiqua,
I feel you. Well, actually, I'm coming at the situation from a slightly different point of view, but I've been exactly where you are before. I think we can relax a little bit on worrying over whether or not Mr. Allen will ask us to *insert hidden meaning here*, because I feel as though if we follow the directions, gestures, and form as content, meaning will come into the things we write, hopefully almost as reflex. If not, no big deal, non? As you said, we're supposed to write a story with STORY and CONTENT, and not a labourious over-emphasis on the lesson of the day. Perfect. I too agree that ever since I heard the words "hidden meaning" and "deep" slither out of a teacher's mouth, it added a whole layer of inauthentic and forced meaning to something that we'd rather just enjoy/interpret for ourselves, and to try to apply that to one's own short story may just be crossing a line. A meaning shouldn't be forced, I find, and if you end up having one, wouldn't it be better to discover after having written the story? I'd love a moment like that, personally.
Anyway, I think this is the perfect kind of assignment for letting all those worries go, and I think you're doing just the right thing by sitting down, using what you know, and just trying to make the best short story you can. Leave the deeper meaning treasure-hunt to the poor 6th graders who just discovered that literature will mean getting beat over the head with political context and "hidden insight" for the next three years-- we've got fun stories to write. :]"
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