I’m tired. Tired of being angry all the time. Tired of having an opinion, and having to force that opinion onto others. So, tomorrow, I’ll be doing my own outrage outage.
Let me preface this rant with an apology. Please forgive my soapboxing. My fingers labour as I type the sentences, but I feel I must speak. You see, I’m tired. Worn down. Fatigued. The constantly swirling nature and proliferation of the news, and our subsequent reaction to it, has put me in this mood. As has having to pick a side on an issue; as has having to justify it. There are no free passes on the modern day issue, lest you risk societal excommunication. So it goes in the social sphere, where unknown names state angry platitudes, as others labour to field them all, or promise action, before stalling.
The same-sex marriage plebiscite leads the pack in this fashion. “What do you think?”, I’ve been frequently asked. I’ve given my answer numerous times, but I don’t have the energy to convince someone else of my point of view. My news feed reels along with new instances of injustice that I barely skim. I read the emoji’s that follow, which determine the severity of my nod. The most meaningful thing I can offer is a shake of the head, or a nod – whichever will allow me to exit the conversation quicker. I want people to get along, and live the best they can according to the time they’ve been afforded. I’ve not the belly for a fight, and my words have not the power to change, as all I’d be doing is adding my consciousness to the stream.
Knowledge, make no mistake, is power. And much like real power, it is horribly abused, with those who use it convinced that by possessing it, they are right. Each meeting/dinner/conversation/commute, I dance through no-man’s land, as the mud underneath is disturbed by machine-gun staccato of voiced opinion. “What do you think, Pendles?” Who cares. I know you don’t, you’re just waiting for your turn to speak. And that’s fine.
As the oft-repeated, stereotypical, maternal advice goes: “If you don’t have anything positive to say, don’t say anything at all.” Good advice, but let’s adapt it for 2016: “If you have anything to say, don’t say anything at all.”
In years gone by, when serious discussion raised its head over dinner, or wherever, I kept quiet because I felt I didn’t have anything of merit to add to the conversation. Now that I have gained that, when that conversation rolls around, I play stupid. I query people on their desire for another drink, or the location of the bathroom. Why? Well, it seems that the issue, whatever it is, whatever it was, is no longer the issue. For example, it was announced yesterday that Triple J may or may not be moving the Hottest 100 from Australia Day; the most liked comment on the article was “Can the queen just fuck off already so we can become a republic?”.
Cue the shake of the head, for the wave of comments that proceeded that touched upon Waleed Aly, the changing of Christmas Day, media bias.
My neck starting hurting so I did the wiggly thing with the screen, and with that, sweet, sweet mindfulness. I earnestly support your right to say, feel or think whatever you choose, but I’m sick of hearing endless negative complaint pouring in from both sides. Two warriors fighting for the same beau: bias. Yes, she swings both ways, but the minority who are resistant to her charms are tired of the loud, nightly, couple-arguments from the apartments above and below us.
I feel like Cypher from The Matrix. A man scorned by knowledge, who thusly wants to return to knowing nothing. “Ignorance is bliss,” as he says in the film. I would betray my people in exchange for more sleep. Don’t hate me, Trinity.
As the oft-repeated, stereotypical, maternal advice goes: “If you don’t have anything positive to say, don’t say anything at all.” Good advice, but let’s adapt it for 2016: “If you have anything to say, don’t say anything at all.” Just for one solitary issue; it’s not forever. Just give us all a day off. We’ve earned it, and I need the quiet. The issues will be there tomorrow. Can we just come together, separately, not agreeing to disagree, disagreeing to agree or endorsing people that we’ll never meet, with a blue thumb attached to our name?
Could we just say nothing at all?