A World of Contradictions

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I tend to say what’s on my mind. Maybe it’s a negative thought. Maybe it’s a positive thought. Maybe it’s a general comment about human nature: an observation. But no matter what there is a tendency for it to be questioned.

And in a lot of ways I get that. I understand being questioned. The world is a questionable place. And I get that maybe people feel the need to question me and my interest in the world because they don’t agree. I respect that. But I do not respect, nor do I appreciate, being told that I’m wrong, that my views are against majority and therefore useless, or that everything I say is hypocritical and so invalid.

I understand the basis of these statements. All people are different and view the world differently, heck, a lot of people may not even take the time to view the world much at all. So then, yes, maybe I am not representative of the majority. And maybe it’s true. That on occasion, I’ll say something merely because it is NOT the world view and I like to hear the reasons for its advocation and in that way I start the problem to begin with… But why does everything have to turn into an argument? How does the hypocrisy of a statement make it less interesting or even less valid?

Doesn’t anyone realize that the world is based upon hypocrisy? That EVERY view contradicts another? That the world is flawed and therefore riddled with incongruities? The world is so oddly matched by contradicting statements that in a way a hypocritical view is actually more “right” than a none hypocritical one. If you really take the time to ponder it (a point I was attempting to convey) no statement is truly “correct” unless it is partially contradictory.

If I like an orange I can describe the orange as sweet. This statement is true, yes, but an orange is most often tangy as well and if I leave that out the thought that I was trying to describe; the taste of the orange is not conveyed in it’s entirety. The word “tangy” in the English language is closely associated with “sweet”‘s antonym, “sour”, nevertheless adding the word gives more round value to the overall statement. So in order to be a full statement and therefore a overall correct one I might have to say the orange is sweet, but tangy and therefore pose a partially hypocritical statement.

This is true with most everything. I may like something, but to fully convey the extent of my like I would also have to state what I dislike as well which, in turn, poses a handful of contradictory statements to the initial opinion.

The more you analyze a view the more hypocritical the very core of the opinion becomes, but the more hypocritical the statement is the more fully it is described and therefore the more “correct” it turns out to be.

And I think that maybe this is just a problem that stands out so boldly in the English language because of the imprecise nature of our words. Almost every word in the English language is closely associated with another word that holds completely different connotations. Making every statement either incomplete and unexplored or contradictory in connotation. This leaves so much room for personal interpretation and therefore way too much room for possible arguments.

Maybe it would be better in France. I heard it’s almost impossible to be misunderstood using proper French… Or maybe that’s just another complaint, though I’d personally call it an interesting thought.

I hear I complain a lot as well.

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TV aka My Life

I think I’ve come to a milestone in my life and the only representation of this change is television.

A year ago I was in love with Dexter. I felt an emotional connection with him. It was the kind of connection you only feel with your favorite TV show with the character you identify yourself with. When I met Dexter he was lost, confused, unable to relate to any one around him. He was in a bubble. On his own. Surrounded with people who thought they knew him but never knew the full extent of his being. When he finally began connecting with others and sharing his deadly passion, I felt it. When he fell in love, I fell too. He was me. Not who we wanted to be, but who we were and who we could never escape from. Just like me, at the end of the day, no matter how hard he tried, Dexter only ever had himself.

At the time, he was someone I understood. Separated by a screen we shared in understanding. And now? Not so much.

He’s evolving, understanding himself. Shoot, he’s even gotten a therapist. He’s no longer the child born in blood, but the man who tries his best to clean it up. He’s changed. But that’s not the problem. It’s that I have changed too.

When I met Dexter on the inside I was dark and twisty. There was that weird dark feeling that filled up the core area of my body. A feeling somewhere between that one you get when you watch scary movies and the feeling you have when you’re doing something you know you shouldn’t. But it’s gone now. And now I repeat phrases like “dark and twisty”. Now I watch Grey’s Anatomy, a show for happy people. People who try to change those dark and twisty people but also satirize them with the words. I’m drawn to Christina Yang and Meredith Grey because they fight happiness but are also engulfed by it. I like them because they try and fail so many times. I like that they always fall back on each other. They’re pulling themselves out of the darkness that they’ve so consistently been apart of and are now chasing toward the light. They have what Dexter doesn’t have: hope. They can fix all their problems with the people they love, go to bed at night hopeful, and not wake up in prison. But most of all, they know that no matter what happens they’ll always be fine because in the end they have each other. They have their person.

A year ago I wouldn’t have been able to relate to that. I’d be jealous of their relationship (I still am a bit), but overall confused as to how they’re so easily comforted. But it seems that that’s where I am at right now. You see, right now, in the place that I’m at, I can’t help but love Grey’s Anatomy.