Subtext

–n. the underlying or implicit meaning, as of a literary work.

Now to some people, the best (and only) example would be innuendo. But, subtext is not quite so obvious. In our everyday lives, I’ve noticed, subtext is more of a subconscious thing that happens to play out one way or another consciously. Sticking with the innuendo example, why is it that we approach people and become friends with them? Why do we more readily talk to some, and not others?

It’s a brief attraction, and that attraction, consciously or not, grows the more the relationship continues and grows. It’s what drops that barrier when acquaintances become more familiar – friends; when friends cross that line and become comfortable and willing to embrace eachother, or something of similar intimacy. It’s an odd line that many, unknowingly, toe in their subconscious at every stage. Some stay on that line or even fall back.

And I do see it. How awkward was that last hug? Did the distance seem odd? Did the intimacy or lack thereof? How much do you really like this person, and in what way? Not that you should ask these questions everytime you give/get a hug. It’s just something to think about. Some best friends have a super heaping of untouched (and unnoticed) sexual subtext, while others have a much more sedate and familial intimacy. Some even have a mix – siblings themselves sometimes do.

Now I’m not trying to say, “OMG, WE’RE ALL FREAKS AND WANT TO SCREW EACHOTHER,” no. What I’m saying, is that it’s just a basic component of relationships. So, stop being awkward and share!

C’mon, I’m a people watcher! Subtleties tend to be a focal point nowadays.

This can’t be the End

http://www.veganoutreach.org/advocacy/quotes.html
Even if you don’t go veg, though I really do hope you at least by the end of this make an attempt, read through that list of quotes. And take it to heart as well, please.

Now to the actual matter at hand…

It’s sad – no, much worse. It’s tragic, and even that doesn’t seem to convey how very terrible this is. It’s disappointing, shameful, depressing, frustrating, and heartbreaking. I don’t even know which to feel. The world is on the verge of a total meltdown, with human civilization at stake, and we, as the reigning superior race of the planet, seem to not want to do anything.

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” -Margaret Mead

I seem to encounter that quote all over the place. It makes me wonder, with all the places that I’ve come across it, why I don’t see more of this small group. I see it though – it is there, but it comprises of a group that was already partially isolated; who listens to outcasts? I want to know where the active citizens, the people who can make change – I want to know why I can’t seem to find any – or enough – of them in this “small group” that is trying to save civilization from self-destruction.

And that is what makes it the most heart wrenching, disappointing and shameful experience. For all the human populous seems to care for itself, and you all do – selfishness has not faded as being one of the primary instincts (which we for some reason give too much in way of control) – it doesn’t seem willing to save itself. I suppose most of everyone is just suicidal. A good greater percentage than just the majority.

Why do we just all sit there? I realize that we as humans have the extremely annoying habit of purposefully ignoring what is right in front of us, and that denial has almost always led to personal disaster. But this is not a personal issue, and not a personal thing that can just be ignored and will disappear or simply affect a small era of our lives. This is a global issue, where the whole of the species is at stake, the whole of the civilization and all its cultures.

None of us can afford to ignore this. None of us can afford to ride through denial until it punches us in the face. Only one final punch is coming out of this, and it won’t be ours. And I, for one, do not feel like suffering because everyone else was being stubborn idiots – defining trait of humanity or not. [If it is, it really should be changed]

Drama! – said she

In the life of – the teenager? the adult? the parent? the infant? the worker? the student? the rich? the poor? the celebrity? the American? the French? the Korean? the South African? – anybody there is always the touch of drama, be it tragedy or miracles or anything else in bewteen. To students especially, the connotation is negative – boyfriend stealing sluts, guys starting shit over some dignity bullshit or other, cat fights, the general rumormill things. But in the already depressing life of the lower members of the global society, drama riddles everything – namely tragedy. To them, the brighter end of the specturm requires more consideration.

Miracles can range from big to small – and many small miracles happen all the time. It’s funny though, how many there really are, seemingly balancing out all the darker aspects of the daily drama everyone encounters. Scandals, in fact, are usually two faced in that they can swing both ways. That’s why everyone likes a scandal – you never know how it’s impression will last through history. Dark humour seems to be a favourite “compromise” though, not that I have any complaints.

I thrive on drama. Stability is a bare essential, not critical to my life. It easily shows in the state of my room – an ever spinning vortex of clothes, books, papers, art supplies, food containers, and memorabilia; me. I’ll admit that it makes me a bit of a gossip hound, to figure out what’s happening. But can you really blame me? Drama is the spice of life, and nothing quite compares to a dash or five of spice. I appreciate the small bouts of calm only because then the drama would be to constant to be worth it, and the intensity would have to increase.

That would only cause even more problems – that’s how wars start. Did the Iliad teach you people nothing? Geez. Still, I thrive on it. “Everything in moderation” they say, which is wise, since anymore is usually detrimental.

And despite all of this, I refuse to let that woman call me Drama. It’s just not appropriate. Then, I’d have to be a source of drama – much too tedious a job.