When I was a rebellious teen I stirred with all the common emotions an angsty angry teen should have. Anger at my inability to cause meaningful change in a world full of injustice. Anger at the individuals that made up this mesh of passive acceptance to the status quo and there adherence and participation of it. Anger at those willing to create a more skewed version of our collective reality that they could in turn use to there advantage to create even more injustice. I knew I would be different in those moments. That I would find a way to be not just an opposing front but an active force to counteract and change this for the betterment of everyone. And if only I could have shared my convictions and feelings with others the same way I felt them I would maybe have accomplished something.
But I didn’t do a damn thing. Fuck all besides those initial thoughts and emotions. I never became a journalist to expose the injustices. I never volunteered to help the homeless and needy. I actually actively sought the opposite of my convictions. I turned to wanting to sow chaos and destruction as a means of restitution. Ultimately my emotions failed to do anything for me but to help me realize how useless the whole process had been. Maybe if I was rich I could make changes, maybe if wasn’t suffering from mental illness I would have done something else. Maybe I never even noticed the trees and thought I was standing in a plain.
My brain seems to have a capacity for which I can accomplish something. And it’s not that much. Like a upper limit road block that prevents me from making it past a few initial steps. I can no longer just get up and go.
The underlining problems of society are to great because they are part of the framework. Any meaningful change in a better direction will result in a society that looks, behaves and feels differently to what it was before. But by just outright removing the underlining rot we risk a collapse into something else entirely.
Leave a Reply