I Am Adopted and I Refuse to be Defined that Way

I would like to state that I am adopted. Yes, this well put together individual is a product of adoption in the United States. It’s an important area of discussion and understanding yet left to the wayside since adopted children are a relatively small number, yet growing. The reason I bring this up is that adopted children might a higher chance of mental disorders. That’s a little messed up, I think. Our parents who adopted us have unfortunately inherited a possible bundle of confounding issues.

With Planned Parenthood, the pro-life/pro-choice debate, adoption has become a focal point in our society more and more because the United States always needs people to draft, just in case. But seriously, the effects that adoption has on children or even young adults, myself included, is quite a place to explore.

For instance, I always knew I was adopted. In high school, I hated my birth parents because my mom wouldn’t raise me with my father because she wanted a better life for me and he seemed to have life planned out in a way. Now I see that my father, while he might mean well, is an asshole. He will post at times on Facebook that are jabs at my mom for giving me a better life. Am I well off though; yes and no, though I may seem it. We all have baggage and I am now trying to deconstruct my own.

After the hate toward my mom, I was relatively fine. Then they all contacted me when I was 19 and in college. I was overjoyed but subconsciously I think I started to unravel. These people were flooding back and I had mostly set my identity based on the life I had been living. After that, I did sort of well in college until a series of mishaps happened. It’s the tried and true, I turned 21 and started drinking, I had a crappy break-up (See you at the wedding in November!), and I fell into a deep funk. Was that because my other family came back? Who knows? I hate to say it might have because I don’t like hurting people unless they need a reality check and this is not a reality check. They meant well but I think deep down it threw me off.(*disclaimer* I, in no way shape or form, blame anyone in my life for any of this, these are my thoughts on research and my realizations. I love them all very much and am thankful for them even though I can be an asshole at times.)

There have been found certain issues with post-adopted persons that I think I will delve into:

Loss and Grief

We experience grief by the aspect that we may have lost someone or something with our identity, appearance or whatever else may be there. I have never been worried about looking like my adoptive parents. If I could look unique, I’ll take that over looking totally like someone else. I may have experienced this because I can tell you that sometimes I look up at the sky at night and think, “That feels kind of like home.” However, I think that is much more of an existential longing than a grief sort of thing.

Identity Development

Ah, identity development, the bane of pretty much my entire generation right now. I was unaware that there were stages of this until my parents ran into the issue of my little brother dealing with things. Seems there are five phases ranging from ignoring the fact to accepting it completely. They say for the first part that you don’t overly acknowledge the issues. The thing is I never really had issues except for that time in high school. The rest of the time was typical high school angst; that want to fit in with your peers yet not giving a fuck what they thought and so on and so forth. At that point in time and until I turned 19 or 20, I had a loose yet basically firm grasp on who I was.

I imagine that is when fully the third stage hit, where it overwhelmed me but I didn’t really think about it consciously. Though I will admit that at times I laugh at the adage that women marry men that remind them of their father and men marry women who are like their mothers. I did wonder about that for a while. Which characteristics am I looking for and which mother is it? Now? Eh, I take things as they come, I go for the girls I am attracted to, and there are very few similarities to either mother. That is one for the home team of rebellion! I imagine I am in the fourth state where I am trying to understand it so I can accept it, but as you’ll see at the end, I am doing something a tad different.

Self-Esteem

According to the research, adopted children have low self-esteem stemming from the loss of parents because they feel like they may have been rejected, different, etc. I will admit that sometimes I feel this way but it’s more in relation to how shallow our society has become, as well as how banal and dumb it feels. I embrace being different as well as sometimes get really anxious and nervous about it but that may be because I’m in Cypress again and there’s a certain “charm” to being from Cypress. By the way, you suck Cypress, just saying. Anyway, my self-esteem issues stem from me being someone who over thinks and is terribly uncomfortable in my skin, but I’m working on that and I was doing much better when I lived in Tampa.

Intimacy and Relationships

To the real problems, that everyone wants to understand, intimacy and relationships! Personally, I love identity but this is a close second. Yes, I have intimacy issues, no, not in a sexual nature. Do I feel close relationships? No, but I have run from three major possible ones in my life. The others, well the bad break-up initiated by her and my fall can go to my unconscious fear of abandonment, hooray! However, the relationships that didn’t happen, well that’s mostly I thought I was not the best guy because these girls were gorgeous and I was an average looking mook.

In addition, I am AWFUL at reading signs of attraction from women, but that is not an adoption issue. So yes, outside of identity, this is a major hurdle for me. The three possible relationships? I freaked out on one while we were messing around and we ended up hooking up one night a couple of years later and then she found a wonderful guy. That’s my bad. The second liked me our freshmen year and she was awesome but I let my feelings that I wasn’t the guy for her get in the way. She was very punk with the fishnet stockings, tattoos, colored hair, everything I find really cool and I just thought I wasn’t cool enough because I’m dumb, ha. The last one I have known for years, we have had this weird on and off thing going on, and I ran when she was going to take off and come to Texas. I told her not to do that since she was in school and not to throw her life away because of me. Man that was dumb because I was being honest but I was also scared I would have totally messed that up. Now, well let us just say she ran this time and we’re in that weird phase. What happens next? We’ll see but right now, I’m just ready for our weird period to end.

Obviously, relationships are my worst area, who knew?!

In Conclusion

To sum it up, I am finally coming to those final stages of true acceptance of my adoption but in incredibly off ways than what it seems researchers tend to say it should happen. For one, I, right now, refuse to let my identity be controlled by the fact that I am aware I am adopted by either family. I am who I am and that’s who I’m going to be even if I’m still figuring that out. What I have to do now is reconcile both parts of who I am (which I’m nearly done with) then throw them away so to speak and be Josh. This is to everyone, none of this matters, be who you are whether you’re adopted or not or whether you fit in or not. It’s whatever, and being hung up on this shit can really mess you up for a while.

Second, I’m going to ignore ANY of this research to the best of my ability because I have depression, I do have an occasional drinking problem but I can function and it might be because of adoption but I think it’s just who I am. Right now, I am more trying to reconcile the life we were told by people we would have against what the economy and everything says. Time to suck that up and just move within it as I had before I let this get to be a huge snafu within my head. It’s not worth it; more worth me doing what I do, what I love and go with the flow. I move with a strange fluidity in life, sometimes I’m estranged from it and people for a period of time, but they’re always on my mind and in my heart until I flow back in. I like who I am (most of the time). I am a mix of chaos and calm and when I’m on my game, you better watch out because I can do things that even blow me away.

Finally, with the attachment issues, I can’t let, “oh I’m adopted that’s why,” be my final say on why things have happened the way they have. Yes, I do have some issues of attachment but I also, as seen, attach pretty well to people for long hauls. I may fuck them up sometimes, sometimes I haven’t, but they almost always tend to reconcile. One thing is for sure, I have found one attachment that for now (and I’d like possibly forever) transcends what most of us have ever hoped for. That may change if I find another person I can become that attached to but if not, I seem to find ways to be lucky enough to give a big middle finger to life and exist on my terms. So…adopted folks have issues but we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be controlled by them whether that means by seeking help or just writing it out and deciding how you will live your life.

I may be adopted but I’ll be damned if that, like society, ever defines me as who I am. Let Josh Shudra be Josh Shudra, and let you be you with all of your angels and demons. That’s the definition that matters at all. The past can’t be changed, the future we can play with, and the future really doesn’t exist until you wake up the next morning and then it’s just the present. So let’s have some fun and put two oars in the water, our generation needs to get moving again.

Sources

http://www.adoptionsupport.org/res/indexcorea.php

http://www.adoptionservices.org/raising_your_child_family/adoption_emotional_issues.htm

http://www.originsnsw.com/mentalhealth/id4.html

 

Why Fads Like the Ice Bucket Challenge Suck

Did anyone notice that Yankees players weren’t dumping water on their heads for Lou Gehrig’s disease? I’m sorry, I mean ALS. This is not me attacking the Ice Bucket Challenge. It was actually quite a beautiful thing to see people gathering together to support something. 115 million dollars have been raised with only, ONLY $315,000 going to the president of ALS foundation out of the 1.7 million paid to its members.

Now, I don’t understand how these organizations work well internally but I think if I was running an organization such as this, I’d take, oh, at least $215,000 of what I make and give it to research and funding (more likely I’d work for $50,000 a year).  But even this is not the huge bone I have to pick.

Raising money is good but your fad’s suck!

Robin Williams – Good for about a week to discuss Depression and then *blows raspberry*!

ALS Ice Bucket Challenge – Short term gain, long term letdown

Joan Rivers – Celebrities are regular people so treat them as such…unless they die, then lose it.

NFL Domestic Abuse – Knocked out

No, your fads do not suck because of what they are, they suck because our society prefers short term over long term constantly. As we’re speeding up as a society we’re absolutely losing any ability to see things completely through. We’re screaming, “I DON’T CARE, I WANT TO GET OFF AND SEND YOU HOME NOW.”  Does anyone here actually look into research information when these memes happen or are most of you really so ignorant or star-struck that you bandwagon? Guess what, I didn’t dump ice water on my head, shame on me, right? Wrong.  Shame on your for dumping water on your head and feeling good about yourself and never again thinking about ALS and letting these 115 million fall back to it’s 1.9 million. Now take a look at this graph here:

I just want you to look at this graph and think about the money you donated or the water you dumped on your head. Then look at breast cancer research. That’s a ton of money raised so far for breast cancer research. One would think with that amount we could be a hell of a lot closer to finding a cure instead of just treating, right? So what makes you think that at the end of the day this is going to cure ALS? It might, might, get us closer to a cure but if breast cancer is any indication then I seriously doubt that after drug companies and whatnot get their grubby little hands into the process.

Did you know that originally you donated $10 when you dumped water on your head and $100 if you didn’t? Oh, so a majority dumped water on your heads for awareness.  Well that’s bloody fantastic!  Are you going to do the same thing next year? No. Are all those celebrities, athletes, “normal” folks going to donate the same amount next year? Fuck no.  Why? Because we’re looking for short term solutions to long term problems.  Also, because if it’s not a fad we’re ignorant or worse, we feign ignorance to make ourselves feel comfortable.

There is nothing wrong with fads. They happen all the time, but I have a problem with fads that are only useful to pat ourselves on the back about and then forget about. Next year, don’t dump water on your head, donate money to ALS or hell, something else! The people that continually donate to whatever cause are the people that we should be applauding, not celebrities and individuals who hit it and quit it, so to speak.

You want to really make a change? Go volunteer, donate more than once in your life, learn about fads before you buy into them and then make a more profound commitment to that. Or better yet, what if everyone found one thing (or a couple) that they could care and be passionate about and take time each year to progress information on it and the other things I’ve said. Can you imagine what could happen?!

For god’s sake, pull your heads out of the asses of celebrities and get some integrity. I see that domestic abuse is already fading into the afterthought of American society. By the way, I didn’t dump water on my head or donate because I feel it would be wrong of me to do such a thing only to flippantly throw it aside. Go find a cause you’re passionate about, not what society or some celebrity tells you to support.

Blogging – A Numbers Game

Adding to the Chaos

Boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen, gather round, gather round!

I’ll be honest here, folks, there is no good way for a writer to grow without some feedback on his writing.  I know I’m just starting my shitty little blog and hoping one day I’m doing this for more than just the sake of blogging but I would appreciate any and all constructive criticism.  Now I say constructive not, “Hi, I’m 15 and you’re writing sucks.”  First off, it’s your and second off, that’s not constructive.  Here’s a dictionary, look up constructive and then get back at me.  Hmm, probably shouldn’t already be calling out people but it’s fun occasionally just to see what we can make of ourselves.

Anyway, a little update as well.  Today on Twitter, yes Twitter, I was added by musician Thomas James out of England.  Yup, merry old England. I got a hold of his debut album, This Time, and I am going to take a crack at reviewing it here.  A debut if you will.  Actually, go check him out, from the snippets of the live music he’s got a sort of John Mayer soothing vibe going on.  A little soul making it’s way across the stage, if you will.  We shall see though as I take in the ten-track album.  Stay tuned!

Cool, we’re all settled then?  Again, I would love feedback on what I put on here.  Don’t pull punches but make it constructive, huh?  By the way, if you feel like hanging out on Twitter, look for @joshshudra.  Once again, album review coming up today, maybe tomorrow if my job applications and work get in the way.

Blue shoes and orange laces.

Post-It Notes as Calling Cards

Every fucking person on the internet can call themselves a writer.  They’re writers because they blog or they write these humorous little pieces from time to time but they still lack any substance that a real novel has going for it.  I know that you’re thinking, “Where do you get off saying who and who isn’t a writer, you schmuck?!  All you do is write your stupid blog and poems with bits and pieces of actual work here and there.”  Real writers are published in some shape and form to me.  I long for the writers with originality.  I feel like more and more I’m walking into bookstores and reading The Hunger Games Part 38: Banality is Fun. Fuck Originality. 

Palahniuk is out there and we had David Foster Wallace.  I’ve got the last of Philip K. Dick laying on the floor but even that was old school jots of idea he put down before death and that were put together after his untimely death.  I also recently read an underground novel called Fuck-Up, which was quite the read because that’s how I feel in this post-college world that bought and sold me on the idea of opportunity.  Doesn’t help that I’ve had my heart ripped up this year to add to that feeling of a fuck-up.  But that’s what I mean, where the fuck are those books that sort of grab us?  I don’t want to read the same tired traditions over and over again.  Then again, when I ever get a novel or short story out there I hope to God it’s not this fallacy we call a decent novel these days.

I mean, shit, where is the underground anyway?! Is it so far underground that I can’t find it?  Where are the magazines, zines, etc., that Bukowski got his start in the 60’s and 70’s?  And another thing, why the fuck are books so expensive?  I read everything about the decline of actual books but you assholes are jacking up the price way above what the beauty of reading is worth.  You know how I circumvent your filthy practice of depriving me of books? I buy them on fuckin’ Amazon or I check them out from the library and then buy them on Amazon.  Personally, the idea of selling my books is just an atrocious thought but, by all means sell your books all over the place for me to whisk up into my ravenous appetite for reading material that doesn’t suck the long dick of mediocrity.

I never thought I’d see the day when our literature would  fall into the trap of reproduction that the movie industry is so fond of taking part in.  I mean, for Christ’s sakes, Johnny Rockets is planning to make a drive-in-movie restaurant, a drive-thru concept (with breakfast menu), a food truck and a mobile pop-up restaurant.  And they’re calling this shit new and original?! If I want to go see a drive-in movie, I’ll go to the drive-in near my goddamn house!  I don’t need a restaurant bastardizing a classic concept in the name of higher revenue streams.  Of course, no one really cares.  They see it as new and exciting!  Who wants to make their food better or create something else when you can easily slap your name on an already used concept and have the American public lap it up like a dog basking in the smell of its own shit.  Come to the food trough of unoriginality!

Maybe originality per se doesn’t exactly exist (though the Hunger Games proves that wrong).  Maybe I am pigeon-holing my experiences with reading at this point.  Or maybe if we stopped allowing tired and worn out trends to hog the scene, we’d have better books, movies, food, politicians, and less shitty reality television and sitcoms.  Is this shit just not that obvious to the rest of the adoring public? Have we become so brainwashed by crappy programming that we’re allowing ourselves to get dumber and fill our lives with inane babble to fill some dreaded silence?  Certainly I miss college because I learned to understand the silence as just empty space for our thoughts, or a bond between that person and I that we didn’t have to talk to enjoy each others company. Dear me, do I miss intellectual conversations and actual dialogue about concepts and ideas.  You can keep the damn Kardashians and shit.  Unless I need the utter idiocy of reality TV stars to make a point, just keep them the fuck away from me.

Just someone give me some stimulating conversation, a good book, cigarettes, coffee, a beautiful woman, love, none of this stupid student loan debt, the means and ability to live and oh, stimulating sex.  Is that all really too much to ask for?

Impotency and the Lack of Awareness: Not Just About Your Sex Life Anymore!

It’s 2014, obviously. In the twenty-four years of life that I have experienced I have witnessed many changes across the landscape that I, sadly, think a lot of my peers have not picked up on. It bothers me to see a steady decline in awareness; not just amongst my peers but also around me in general. Maybe it’s an American thing, I’m not sure since I’ve never traveled out of the country (much to my chagrin). Anyone care to share? No? Yes? Speak up!

I hear talk about the dumbing down of American students because of our reliance of raising children on the television and video games over being outside exploring and getting their hands dirty. Also, there’s this over-reliance on standardized tests to gauge where students are. What a load of horseshit! Listen, I was home schooled from junior high through high school. I took the tests in elementary school and then took no standardized tests until I took the SAT to get into college. And look, I turned out fine!

Here’s my theory and I’m probably utterly wrong but when we’re teaching people to learn strictly for a test they have blinders on that focus their attention solely to learning and understanding the world on those terms. Unless you have a natural curiosity for the world, you’re being programmed to focus on such a miniscule part of learning that you become unaware of the world changing around you. Add our increasing reliance on technology and voila, we have a recipe for disaster! I’m aware that I’m using technology to craft this but it’s so you’ll actually read it so pull that iPhone or Galaxy out of your pocket and read, like and share this entry, dammit!

To add to our reliance on technology, I have been reading a book about the mythology behind the Lord of the Rings called, J.R.R Tolkien’s Sanctifying Myth: Understanding Middle Earth by Bradley J. Birzer. It’s a fantastic book and I’m in no way religious but I can appreciate and identify with how Tolkien used myth and faerie to tell the story of the Christian religion. Tolkien, as you can have figured out, was very much in love with nature as shown with the Ents, Hobbits and other natural scenes. After the Ents destroy Saruman’s machinery at Isengard, Merry says, “I think he has not much grit, not much plain courage alone in a tight place without a lot of slaves and machines and things.” Birzer then adds, “Although believing himself a master of the machine, Saruman has become a slave to it, and was nearly impotent without it.” That passage struck me like a punch to the gut. We have become like Saruman. We have become slaves to our devices that we at times have become helpless by loss of awareness and other things.

Now as I said, that theory could be completely wrong but I think we all can admit that there is a scary lack of awareness being practiced by today’s generation. Go ask any kid about the goings-on in Israel right now and I bet you they’ll remember that Israel is a place in the Middle East. Speaking of Israel, I was watching Parts Unknown with Anthony Bourdain and in one episode he went to Jerusalem, Gaza and the West Bank and discussed the wall that Israel has been building the West Bank Barrier to block off the West Bank from the Palestinians in the name of protection from terrorism (I’m not going into the whole conflict because that’s a post in and of itself), but I couldn’t help but think, “My god, this is the Iron Curtain of our generation.” I bet you barely anyone younger than me can even tell you about that wall and that’s sad. Our global awareness is dropping while Kanye rants about what a little bitch he is because we’d rather tune into a sociopath because, fuck the rest of world, ‘Murica!

I don’t mean to harsh out so much on America, I’m just disappointed in my generation and the generations coming up behind mine. When did we stop teaching the beauty of awareness and self-reliance? Teach your kids! I cannot tell you how many people with kids have said, “I can’t let my kid go out because there are snakes, etc, etc. Really? Because when I was a kid I was disobeying my parents to go play in the bayou by my house and at seven I knew not to mess with the snakes. I also knew the difference between a Common Garter Snake and a Water Moccasin. Why? Because as a child I was naturally curious about the world around me and wasn’t glued to my phone or gaming system. We also must be aware not just of your immediate surroundings but our global surroundings as well.

Teach your children to be curious, to pay attention. Take that phone away from them and unplug their game system because we’re teaching our kids to be impotent without technology and that’s a dangerous path to go down. There’s nothing wrong with reading a book either! I’m not downing technology, only our reliance on it. So go outside, play in the sun, read a book, go grab a goddamn beer, light up a cigarette (or don’t) and talk to people at the bar or shit go explore nature. And for god’s sakes, take off those stupid blinders standardized tests are putting on you and explore. I’m more and more convinced that intelligence is shit without the wherewithal and awareness to put it to use.

Then again, what do I know? I’m just a twenty-four year old college graduate in massive debt looking for a job.

 

Lapses Between Postings is Creativity, Dammit!

 *Haven’t gotten a chance to work too much on this since I’ve been applying for jobs and I ran into a roadblock with the outline.  I’m over-thinking this too much most likely.  Still, here is a little taste…*

 

Plus one, I could have taken charge. Plus two? Yeah I can handle that but plus three? Well that’s when things get a little hairy.  Now plus four, plus four is fucking frightening, especially when it’s your first time dodging traffic.  No that’s not a code word for something stupid like the Choking game or whatever kids are playing.  This is a much more technical game than just dodging traffic to get our rocks off. Also, I really don’t recommend it for anyone who’s under twenty-one. We have goddamn rules to this shit, we do.

Of course it started the same way all great stories begin with an overabundant amount of alcohol, testosterone and boredom while we were in college.  Now, I’ve never been one for dare devilish stunts but I always seemed to be the one with the ideas for whatever could be pulled off.  Actually, I’m a liar, I’m not one for these stunts because I chicken out, but I always planned to do the bastards when they first popped into my head.  It’s when I think of the repercussions that I back out.  The first time I ever planned and tried to get people on-board with my adrenaline rush came from rides around town in the back of a friend’s pick-up.  It would have worked if he hadn’t been worried about what would happen if I died and also Texas outlawed the ability to ride in the back of trucks.  The legislature is dumb sometimes.

Anyway, the plan was to weld a pole into the middle of the bed of the truck, tie a rope or put a chain around it and then get to highway speeds while I stand up and “ride” the truck down the highway. Maybe even with a cowboy hat so I could really play the part of a bumpkin hick.  Alas, he decided this was a bad decision.  I mean, c’mon?! What’s more fun than blatantly walking that fine line between life and death?! 

First Of Many: West Texas Part One

Follow this blog! You’ll find phenomenal photographs and storytelling as it progresses.

ARBoydPhoto

So I have talked for a long time about starting and writing a blog and always made up excuses to not. I had homework or work work, or I had this or that. Well, by George I have just plum ran out of excuses so here I am writing the first of many entries to come, just like the trip I took with my friend and mentor, Ron Bullied.

Now that “real life”, as they tell me, has started to settle in and I have graduated and before I started my “real job” I took some money that I made off my very first photography show and traveled out west. West Texas that is. The old stomping grounds of James Dean and Henri De Lobe … not sure if I should use those two names in the same sentence, oh well. Ron picked me up before the sun even hit the house…

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The Existential Crisis that is the Modern Day College Graduate

“Go to college”, they said!

“It’ll be fun”, they said! 

“It’ll help you get a job”, they said!

Really? Because thirty thousand dollars in debt with a degree that is the equivalent of a degree in underwater basket weaving sure doesn’t sound like the shit my parents promised it would be.  Now, I am a realist and understood that they were overselling it in our world of, “you’re special and can do whatever you want.”  And yes, yes you can!  But you better be dedicated to it, the world isn’t going to give it to you unlike what society sold you.

But shit, was college fun!  If I could do it over again I would or just never leave and stay college age forever.  I wouldn’t have missed all those opportunities with girls, I wouldn’t have told my friend no to moving in with me and I wouldn’t have dated who I dated, haha!  Listen, kids, the people you meet and experiences you have in college will stick with you for the rest of your life so if you do go, make it a fucking blast.  And if you don’t, you’re still going to meet people and make experiences that you’ll never ever forget and keep doing it after the “college” years are over.

So…

Being twenty-four and at the average debt level is hard sometimes. Trust me, I have had the occasional panic attack.  People ask me all the time, “why did you get such a broad degree?”.  Well the answer is that I got it because I (not to toot my own horn) was pretty damn good at it. My thesis paper researching the controversy between a South Park episode and a Muslim group through semantics got me a perfect score from my professor and this woman ate us alive.  I did it because I had planned to go to grad school and eventually become a professor.  I may well do that someday but I was so burned out in my last year that I started drinking heavily, was depressed and gained about thirty pounds.  It was not a pretty sight yet I somehow still pumped out that paper.

On top of me constantly trying to figure out how to not succumb to being in debt for the rest of my life is the dread of not knowing what I want to do with my life.  It feels like a ton of people around me are getting married or having kids, etc., etc., while I just moved back home from Tampa after getting my heart crushed (oddly it wasn’t like the last two times my heart was broken, at least in terms of pain) and now am trying to find a job and dodging loan payments.  What a fuckin’ shitty way to be living a life, dontcha think?  Well, I mean, I had a blast in Tampa and I’m still close with the girl but there’s a distance between us that we feel will close but when that’ll happen, who knows. But the point is, outside the money and trying to figure out what I want to do, everything else is pretty damn interesting.

I have found that though it seems people are moving on, there are a lot of us who are just as lost as we have ever been.  What I’m finding is my problem is that while they’re focusing on these things they love I want to do abso-fucking-lutely everthing that my little heart desires.  So what do I want to do with my life you ask?!…

I want to write, I want to make music, to backpack, to sail, to travel the world, to experience nature, to meet movers and shakers, thinkers and poets and artists that either do or do not know it.  I want out of this room in the house of my childhood, I want to walk in the footsteps of my favorite writers, poets, artists, naturalists, thinkers and blaze my own paths for someone to look back on and say, “Wow.”  I want to love the prettiest girls, sleep with the most beautiful women, I want to capture hearts, souls and minds.  Hell, maybe I’ll have a kid someday. I want everything and I want nothing…and I don’t know how to fucking do it because it seems that the debt just creeps up and crushes my opportunities by invading my mind (luckily I’ve got it held for six months).

Moving to Tampa was the first time I took those feelings of what I wanted and just followed them.  The problem we all have, especially those who have just graduated, is our whole lives were pretty much told to us as to how it would be.  Some of us said, “fuck it”, and did their own thing and then some of us got stuck and did our own thing within the confines of what society said we should do.  Now we’re realizing how lost those ideas are and how they put us at a loss and search for meaning because we have to create it now once we’re free of that society of growing up. 

And that sucks but it’s a part of life and growing up, err…taking responsibility. I plan to be a kid at heart forever, but just one that understands the responsibilities of being an adult.  So much to do and so little time, so much to do and so little time.  We, or at least I, am so goddamn alive yet at times feel so dead and downtrodden when “reality” sets in. 

How to begin, that is the question at this point on my lips, how do I just say fuck it and begin…

I Am Optional. Life is Not.

“Tagline (Optional)”, reads the area of the blog where you can put down a pithy saying to capture the readers attention; something to hold on to that attention the way a clingy partner does when they’re afraid you’ll leave them.  Clingy is never good, my friends, except maybe in this situation.

Eye-candy, eye-candy is everything these days.  “You have (blank amount of time) to get my attention. Go” or “Damn, son. Look at that chick”.  Eye-candy is the physical aspect of reality and it doesn’t just mean the appearance of that bombshell you see in the street.  It’s also your resume. Websites devoted to helping people get a job say things like, “Our resume is a key job-hunting tool used to get a job interview.”  Dating websites always have the picture come first along with the basic information.  Why? Because it’s about grabbing your attention first before you get to the substance.

As the title goes, I am optional.  In all honesty, life is optional too but I prefer to live like my life isn’t optional.  I’m twenty-four, not in the best shape of my life (Do I miss playing Ultimate Frisbee.  It’s a sport, ok!  It’s not the manliest but at least I was constantly moving.  Your move, plaid pants), just moved back in with my parents and am in the midst of multiple projects while looking for work.  Yes, ladies, this male prototype is eligible.

Now, I’m not saying substance isn’t appreciated.  We’re all looking for some form of substance in our lives. I mean, we’re not all Kim Kardashian here.  But what I’m curious about is how do we live a substantial life or existence in what slowly is becoming a very skimmed over way of life?  It’s like that Macklemore song, ‘Contradiction’, where he says, “I’m conflicted with being a hypocrite”.  How do we reconcile our place in a society and culture such as this?  I will openly admit, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with my life. I strive for substance daily while chasing down the eye-candy.

Ninety years later and I’d say that we have a lot in common with the “Lost Generation” of the 1920’s. Then again, there have been multiple “Lost Generations” or at least subcultures within the larger culture. Why do you think the Beats are huge these days? It’s for the very reason we remade The Great Gatsby; because both of those generations experienced the same angst and wandering that we are experiencing whether we realize it or not.

A great representation of this comes from what who I consider the Taylor Swift of the rap game, Drake.  He brought YOLO into the public spotlight and my generation grasped onto it like it was the most original concept ever fucking created.  Carpe Diem, anyone?  Well, at least Drake apologized for it yet he won’t apologize for his music…well at least he apologized for something. Most of us are still waiting for Bieber to apologize and retire.  Can you imagine if he becomes the next Michael Jackson?

So now we have YOLO as a means for us to transcend any type of substance. The very problem with such a saying is it adds to a culture of optionality and slowly breaks down any creatable meaning.  My parents generation started off as these hippies but have turned into their careers.  Their worth has become an extension of their jobs so that they are optional and that has bled into my generation and the most recent generation.  The difference is, while my parents generation was at times dubbed the Me Generation, they had a sense of duty to the world and themselves.

However, there has been a slow shift.  In, Into the Wild, Kraukauer quoted Christopher McCandless’s thoughts on careers.  McCandless said, “Mr. Franz, I think careers are a 20th century invention and I don’t want one. ”  This, I feel was the start of a shift but it’s not enough of one, not even close.

Now, if anyone has read, Generation Me by Jean Twenge, you might see what I am discussing as the very issues that Ms. Twenge has found with my generation.  She points out our use of the phrase, “Be Yourself” and how we worry more about the self-esteem of the child rather than the substance of the child.  I do believe that everyone should be themselves but I also understand that we have a duty to our fellow human being.  That’s where what I’m saying differs.  We use phrases like YOLO to show that we’re living our lives and pushing past all the bad yet we’re overly medicated and we’re cynical because we may be living but it’s empty living, it’s eye-candy.

Lets be honest, I am not the best looking guy. My nose is too big for my face, my ears poke out funny and if I could grow a decent mustache I’d look like Groucho Marx.  Yet, I feel I live my life as more than being optional even though my generation and culture says I’m optional and my substance is a secondary feature.  We’ve moved from catching someone’s attention and then delving down into that person to catching someone’s attention and then trying to keep their attention because who you are is boring.

People would say that it is visible in our culture of fuck-buddies.  I suppose so though I don’t usually have one-night stands. I have once or twice and it was quite fun but I tend to sleep with someone because I find them physically attractive AND I genuinely find their substance attractive as well.  But lets be honest as well, everyone loves a good fuck and sometimes substance allows that and sometimes the optionality of the person is enough to make it utterly enjoyable.

Does that mean I think we’re optional? No, still no. I wish we weren’t optional.  That’s how friendships, relationships, most things end.  We lose the substance or never care about it in the first place.  Our conversations become dictated by petty or irrelevant banter, mediocrity and banality.  When this happens we forget substance and we become optional.

We’re truly not optional unless you only care about the societal and cultural repercussions of existence.  At that point you create optionality for yourself.  And as Twenge pointed out, that is no way to live.  As Kerouac put it, “the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.” Those people are the ones who have gone above the optionality of our cultural norms.

I am not optional. I’m just labeled as such.