Saturday, 24 October 2009

Marinated in a Rich Sauce of Cynicism

Often I find myself becoming so overwhelmed with a new idea/concept that I have to make complete sense of it. I’m like a kettle on the brink of boiling point... busting for release. 'Said' notion seems to have a life-altering effect on my outlook which in turn leads me to completely visceral actions. I have to share this new discovery that has boggled my mind. I have to share my new found knowledge with whoever is willing to lend an ear. Often Facebook seems to be the easiest and most efficient way to communicate these pearls. Upon updating the world I feel smugly satisfied and somewhat of a vigilante... at least for a short while.
Then the unexpected happens and although I say 'unexpected', prior to each respective declaration I have already sub-consciously acknowledged a pattern of rash behaviour which ALWAYS seems to be followed by complete and utter regret. I always think that maybe this time, things will be different. However, if there’s one person you can never argue with, in hope of a successful outcome, it is yourself. Like clockwork something changes within me. I no longer feel as passionate about 'said' discovery and the importance it once bore is leaking quicker than a runny nose after a spicey wonton soup. I regret my hastiness and retrace my footsteps, mop in hand, the soapy water finds total release on the tiled surface of reckless decision-making. My wrist swivels back and forth as I scrub away the detritus of the impetuous journey.
I chastise myself for my impulsiveness; completely self-conscious of how others may now perceive me. In my mind, the salient act conjures up images of vainglory or perhaps ignorance; a pseudo-sage declaration that I wrongly embraced as my own.
These actions are marinated in a rich sauce of cynicism; all of a sudden what I once believed to be the ‘truth’ is kaleidoscope. What is at the root of this fleeting passion?

The only situation that I can liken this to is when you are so hungry that you truly believe you could eat a horse. I couldn't eat a chicken let alone a horse! Yet when the pit of my stomach beckons; begging me to silence its cries my eyes grow so wide that I really do lose sight of reality. Once the pleas have been answered it takes less than 10 minutes to satisfy the beast. During these 10 minutes I have not unhinged my jaw and swallowed the feast whole. On the contrary. During these 10 minutes I've managed to marry fork-to-mouth a maximum of 5 times and thus am surprisingly satisfied. But 10 minutes prior to the fork-to-mouth action I swore I was on the brink of a famine-induced death.
Flippancy comes in all forms.

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I am more than prone to monologues; however, this is solely due to the manner in which they compliment a witty anecdote and their ability to resemble concrete evidence when it is so obviously lacking. I often wish I could emulate that aloof character who coolly stands in the corner smiling mysteriously as if she has a secret. However, I fear resisting the temptation to involve myself in other people’s conflicts and responding through body language rather than verbose banter may come across as contrived and arrogant. And, I am not willing to take that chance.

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