Psychobabble
Somethings seems to reoccur when me and my dad watch a movie together. Certain movies end, and he says things like, "Man, that was a depressing movie." We watched The Man Who Wasn't There, a great Cohen Brothers movie, all black and white, featuring great use of light and shadow throughout. Bad things happen to the main character, and he doesn't triumph, atleast in the regular appeasing way people expect.
I loved the movie. Depressing? I didn't find it depressing. I found it funny, but dark, a combination that strikes me as the only way to view the world without losing your mind. I think I have been so exposed to depression, that it's part of me. I've structured it into my life, as a solid block that holds parts of my life together. It is so fundamentally wrapped up in everything that happens, it doesn't bestow any great grief or surprise.
I think many kids are like this. They aren't really miserable, and neither am I. I've become so used to the waves, surges and changes that occur emotionally, I don't understand the problem, the big ordeal. If you were to ask me, "Are you happy?" I don't think I would really say no. If you have conditioned yourself to depression, and moved past everyone's views on it, how can you really define happiness, atleast according to everyone's standards. I think those people would think this is psycho-babble, pure denial, and furthermore a call for help. Why does everyone have to think they are right in deciding what happiness is? If I'm not form-fit to this ideal of normal, then something is wrong, and if I am not miserable, then something is really wrong, and so on.
Most likely, they'd just bypass it. I can't blame them. I'm sure it sounds like some teenager's ridiculous rationalization of bullshit. Who else would waste time trying to gain meaning or perspective from this premise.
I loved the movie. Depressing? I didn't find it depressing. I found it funny, but dark, a combination that strikes me as the only way to view the world without losing your mind. I think I have been so exposed to depression, that it's part of me. I've structured it into my life, as a solid block that holds parts of my life together. It is so fundamentally wrapped up in everything that happens, it doesn't bestow any great grief or surprise.
I think many kids are like this. They aren't really miserable, and neither am I. I've become so used to the waves, surges and changes that occur emotionally, I don't understand the problem, the big ordeal. If you were to ask me, "Are you happy?" I don't think I would really say no. If you have conditioned yourself to depression, and moved past everyone's views on it, how can you really define happiness, atleast according to everyone's standards. I think those people would think this is psycho-babble, pure denial, and furthermore a call for help. Why does everyone have to think they are right in deciding what happiness is? If I'm not form-fit to this ideal of normal, then something is wrong, and if I am not miserable, then something is really wrong, and so on.
Most likely, they'd just bypass it. I can't blame them. I'm sure it sounds like some teenager's ridiculous rationalization of bullshit. Who else would waste time trying to gain meaning or perspective from this premise.