The Sound of Silence

Dancing alone. Dancing in the street like nobody's watching. Dancing as if there's no one else in the world.

Two truths, one lie. 

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I wrote this listening to 'The Sound of Silence (CYRIL Remix)'. Being the type of person that will be obsessed with a song, I listened to this one on repeat for a week straight, until it was cool I guess. Even while editing this I put the song on repeat again so to feel the same, you should too. Or don't, what the fuck do I care.

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=jwptCxZI6y4&feature=shared

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I sit here with smile on my face. It's not an easy thing to explain what depth there can be behind that sentence because words mean very little without a face behind them, and even less without the strength needed to feel exposed. 

Do I write again and not actually share it, not share what truth I feel? This is the question I ponder on as my eyes close and I drift away to this song I'll be obsessed with for more than a little while. The answer isn't easy, but I'll publish this vulnerable piece and try to articulate what joy it means.

I sit here with a smile on my face and write in hope that it spreads. They say you can't tell when you're in the company of a sad or troubled man, because he'll smile anyway and bring everyone else up. A real man will hide it well, at least until things are too late for him. They say it, and I know it. I don't fail so rest assured there is never a too late for me, there is just late and I'm really good at that. I've known a feeling of emotional weight being carried for 4 years now. It's almost 4 years to the day when I decided to shoulder this. But now I smile a real smile.

I love language and the expression that can be behind it. I sit here with a smile on my face is not a complicated sentence but the beauty of communication is that it means different things to people at different times. I could say I would have sat here with a smile on my face last year, the year before or any time since a piece of my heart was lost. But it most certainly would have meant something different.

Sitting with a smile on my face would have been lying. Not lying about the smile, I'll touch once more on what is said about men that can hide in pain. I don't see the smile as the lie, it's that to say it was my face that would have been the lie. I sit not as the person hiding his torture he was to blame for and not sitting with bottled up anger for how he misplaced trust. No I sit here as someone different, someone without those familiar feelings I could almost be a stranger to. I sit without any angst or care of what has brought me to this place of possible futures. All possibilities appearing, as they always were, brighter than I could have ever envisioned. I sit here in control, as the real me, behind this smile.

I've missed this gent I can discuss in first person. I think more congratulations, positive thoughts or at least considerations are due to the men who in the darkest of times can still get it done. I feel that way because if I can keep going, you better believe there are more of us getting it done in tougher situations and not letting their pain show. Some more understanding for that strength of a man is needed in our time. An understanding that a man will rarely need the talks about feelings but rather the challenge and belief in how strong a man is, is what will ensure he prevails.

But I digress, I sit here now as me, not hiding in any woe and not hiding what heavy emotions I felt like collapsing under. No I sit here alone, in control, as me again.

With those that have been close I might have tried to tell them how bad I really was over the last few years. But no-one really believes a man that tells people he's broken. I literally laugh while writing this, I laugh with immense joy, and yet the complete opposite emotion, and the last of it, leaving the corner of an eye for the final time. It doesn't matter, my cheeks pull towards what emotion I'm feeling, and I laugh. I laugh because I had told people in all seriousness I wasn't here anymore and I had it brushed aside. Maybe I should thank them and be angry at the world instead. Maybe just the thanks would suffice, because the world doesn't care about a man's pain, and neither should he. It doesn't really fit a narrative we're told though does it, and isn't that amusing?

I sit here without a care for anything other than expressing how great this feeling is. I sit here after having felt this a few times this year. I sit here in a feeling I used to know so well. I sit here as me again. 

Another thing some people don't believe or can't fathom the reality behind, is that this feeling just hits hard when you don't expect it, and that I haven't an explanation. It's not a standard joy I've felt or seen, I could laugh in public or laugh alone in a restaurant with everyone watching, and I don't have an explanation for that immense joy. At least none other than I'm going crazy. But more likely, equally crazy but of the sort I'll wear with pride, my suspicion behind it is to do with the tough situations endured for what is right, being a man, and believing I'm unbreakable.

But what do I know - I sit here not caring about much other than expressing how fucking great it is to be me. How great it is to sit here with a smile, on my face.

#defy #smilelikeyoudontgiveafuck

Bio

Philosophical wisdom wielded through truths articulated with learnings from sociology and psychology. The bridge between tales of past and contemporary language, navigates the shitstorm - we approach blindly otherwise - called life, my map and compass, mind and heart.

NPC - 1. An introduction.

I like how this term is being used. Those that defy know an NPC when they see one. Those that don't, merely laugh at the term or think that whatever hierarchy of value they've subscribed to grants them an authority to disregard any consideration of what little control they have in the game, the game of life. They disregard any profound thought or deep contemplation of what it means to exist beyond the narrative we are being told matters, the narrative that forgets those in history who's names live on well beyond their time.

For those that defy. It is you that I speak to. It is you that understand me. And it is you that I hope will pass the tests I submit myself to.

I am not special. I do not pass any test with flying colours. I merely understand, through the wisdom of the greats that lived before me, through the wisdom of the few that I have met and developed a genuine respect for, as I have followed a journey not similar but, in a way, equally enlightening.

A man I once respected said something profound to me, its profoundness only came with wisdom I developed and it is merely his last line of this exerpt of what was said that I mean to finish this post on.

"Most people who have attained some semblance of what they think is power do not value real honesty and as a result do not enjoy being around someone who is. It would involve acknowledging that they actually perpetuate mediocrity. Not that this should stop you or anyone else from trying to help others ...just the opposite."

And now to quote an undeniable great (in my own words).

It is the task of the enlightened, to descend to the level of those not yet awakened, and to share their troubles and honours, whether they are worth having or not. And this they must do, even with the prospect of consequences dangerous, and thought, beneath others. - Plato.

My Favourite Story

The idea is not mine. The story merely by my word, my memory of what woke something inside of me, my life, unfinished. 

This is only my adaptation of such an experience that is so human that to not understand, and to not act, should make you question, 'am I living or merely existing'.

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Imagine you are in a room, and in this room, there is a door. It is open a little and when you try to peer inside, the doorkeeper you were told about appears, towering over little you, head shaking. You have heard of worse keepers, and you know this is only a low level keeper of the sort, but you know better.

You do not try to enter. Time passes and you enter that room many times to ponder on what exactly is to be found through the door. Answers? a deeper fulfilment, glory and.. or.. This curiosity stirs inside. But you wait. The door is always open, just a little, you have never seen it uninviting, you have only glimpsed the keeper. But the stories others have spoken of, you know better. On few occasions you almost entered. But as with your breath that changed to be more shallow, so did your comfortability to become uncertain. And you have again and again decided against it. Rightly so, people have warned you of their keepers, told stories of terror, failure or disappointment in what they found. They must have been right and you are persuaded against daring and wait for permission that never seems to come, 'they must be right'..

Years pass. The curiosity eats at you, ages you and takes what you never had. How can this be? You hear stories and see others return from the other side of their own doors once feared. What privelage may they be given not alike your own? What hand dealt differently for them to have keepers less fearsome? You do not believe the lack of authority they speak of. Nor are you convinced the keeper at your door is equally or not more threatening than their own. 'What would it be like?' 'What secrets do those that pass now hold?' The lives of those you have seen allowed to pass are that much more rich, a calmness, a kindness, love and strength. Fearless, and a confidence that you neither feel yourself deserving of or understanding toward what... Toward what or who has given them more! 

With more years that pass, and the knowing that your time is almost up. Your angst for not being deserving of this more that others have had is almost let go. You know now you can pass. You had told yourself this before, as your heart pounded and you were confronted in those moments of uncertainty that you turned from. Back when you were so full of life and potential. Back when there was only little in your possession and that risk needn't be tested unless wanting to be deemed irresponsible if failing to pass the keeper of the door. 

You have now lived, at least that's what you are told... You are good, at least by the definition of those that approved, those that never knew your pain or had wants stronger than your own... You are happy, at least in moments you found admiration of those close. And yet in consideration to all this, you have few stories to speak of that another has not told. This question of living or existing was always been with you. Have you lived, was it with this person that tells stories you have seen or know of plenty, that person who partook in similar enjoyments of safety, the other maybe who seemed not afraid of their keeper but uninterested and vocal of their path certain, have you lived, have you actually? This doubt once felt for the door to pass through, now felt for the choices made, or rather, not made.

You know you can pass, this time is different. You have done right by what others have advised. The agreement is that this is now earnt, the permission you waited for is granted. And besides, nearing your end you grant yourself this permission for what little could be lost? Having taken a path more known, and advised safe, your heart does not race in the same way as you approach now. You've done right, that makes it easier and your curiosity, long since peaked is boiling with questions of 'what if'. Uncertainty exists but you now have others behind you. You have waited your turn and now everything left unknown, everything left unlived, decisions put off, await. 

As you enter, you open the door further than having done before, the keeper appears. The keeper is not as intimidating as you had thought, merely a reflection of yourself. Identical yet not troubled, not having suffered in ways you've experienced. You see little reason for past concern, see no damage in taking this leap, and only now recognise quite the opposite. An appearance of courage and wisdom. A mirror of confidence you always held deep inside. You're excited, what did you fear, what lies have been told of the door, was this merely a fear of those that couldn't yet understand their own selves. Fear perpetuated by each other's doubts, and less likely their own honest assessment? Fear, of failure? You're going now, in the nick of time as the end nears, you're going to what awaits.

The keeper congratulates you, the keeper speaks! "This door was always for you, everything you ever longed for is on this other side". You know this, as you've come to terms with the confrontation being less than you had anticipated. The confrontation with the keeper, with yourself, that was too much for you to see sooner, the door not opened, the steps not taken. 

"This was always for you” booms the keeper, "I have long waited for your arrival to take what's yours"—you motion forward—"But you have left this too late. And now, you shall never know!". This echoes, and you're body is still now, you feel a quiteness inside, sigh a breath, and the door slams—hear the click, the lock—of what was always yours, always meant to be... Gone. Forever.

#kafkaesque #defy

The struggle is..

I struggle with something. This is why I know where my career must go. I think I'm very self aware, I understand my strengths and weaknesses. We choose a career at around the age of 20 before we have any real experience or knowledge of who we are or how that fits into a workplace. My strengths and weaknesses are well known to me now, and ironically it is my weakness that has to equal my strength to be successful. It's not for me that I will choose something away from my weakness, and I don't know if that is as well the path meant for others to reach their full potential or if it is just mine.

I struggle with something. And I purposely just showed you what. And maybe that's always how I'll write. Complex ideas are multifactorial. You can have it explained simply or you can have it explained intelligently. But you can't have both ways if you want the most value from either choice of communication style.

I struggle with something. And you might think you're starting to piece together what that is. In my prior career choice, I was much the same and far less good at what I've set out to communicate here. I butted heads with the decision makers because I thought I knew best. I was rarely given evidence as to why they were correct, as I have always been logical and foreseen what they might believe the way to view something is.

I struggle with something. I don't know my IQ, I don't suspect it's much higher than average, but I do know for certain I score well above average in the working memory aspect of it. This is important for decision making as otherwise you cannot see a logical fallacy taking place with all of the ideas or scenarios to be considered, and what weight to give to each, to deliberate the most effective way forward.

I struggle with something. And as I began to write this I thought it might suprise you. But it's changing in my mind as I write, a realisation, a better path forward. You may think by now that it is that I'm communicating I'm not effective at convincing others, due to what needing to be convinced in difficult situations are complex ideas and perspectives others miss due to simple communication being necessary to garner support.

I struggle, having been reminded of an expression recently. And just like the irony of what has been pointed out in the beginning. ...The irony of my weakness needing to become my strength. There is this irony that.. Well here's the expression.

"If you are the smartest person in the room, you are in the wrong room." - Confucius

What I struggle with, is not being in the wrong room it is remembering what I believe is true above all, you are exactly where you need to be at all times. Smartest in the room? Well I don't know, I have felt like I've been in the wrong room my whole life but it's a change in perspective that is more warrented. See, if struggle in communication and with convincing others, than that is what I need more experience at, and what better place than where I am now.

I love irony. Ironically the things, people or situations you don't like are those you can, and should, find a need for, if only you would take the time and consideration for what is on offer.

The struggle is now welcome.

My name

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DEFY