StoriEnaid.

WHEN I GROW UP….

When i grow up I feel like i should want to make a difference.

This becomes a problem once i allow myself to accept that what I actually want to do is live a simple, happy little existence by the seaside and write a fictional novel. This is what i dream about when my mind wanders from the Glamour magazine I’m reading (not very subtly) behind my laptop in many an oh so interesting lecture, of which a single word i cannot recall.

In my novel i would write about the ups and downs of an individuals life but with a minor twist and ultimately a happy ending. Cliche escapism.

‘Cliche escapism’. This definition of the majority of fiction intrigues me. Fiction is a genre that hints at the need for happiness in conjunction with the want for drama in our lives.

I am curious about the difference between want and need, between drives and necessities. Im concluding that it is this tension created by lack of definition of the two that has had a hand in creating our individual cultures and worldviews, our functions and dreams and our desperation and greed.

I question the blurred line between want and need, that we have seemingly decided exists…probably because if we determined the black and white of it then the implications would be far greater than we could begin to grapple with, and what a nightmare that would be! Crikey we might actually have to try to interpret, determine or define greed? Something we shy away from questioning as surely then we’d implicate our own conscience and this surely wont do… what if we experience that 5 minutes of genuine guilt (5 mins? pushing it love…)we might actually be inspired to do something radical! To WANT to change the world!?

Oh how i mock.

Undoubtedly because i myself am experiencing the guilt as I type, and I am fairly sure posting a blog about the issue into cyberspace isn’t nearly radical enough; not even close.

A beautiful friend of mine recently informed me that in order for the west to live the way we do the rest of the world must exist in a state of poverty. Thus we basically feed of others poverty. Denying their needs for our wants, their desperation for our desires.

It could almost sound poetic if it wasn’t so sickening.

So what? My heart hurts that i dont really want to be radical, that i would live in topshop if i could, that Id drink any coffee if it tasted good despites how it came to be there. HA the irony is i managed to use ‘I’ just then enough times to show my selfish nature in its true form, to unmask it. ITS OKAY THOUGH!!! …..I get to blame it on my culture right? I mean its not my fault, right? I was born into this part of the world of which I’ve only existed for 20 years so, I’m groomed to have a hardened heart against suffering? And furthermore I’m taught to not really care about anyone but myself yes?

I thought so.

I don’t think so!

For goodness sake! This excuse gives way to the idealistic thinking of my original thought. This is issue of culture as the problem simply allows people, like myself, to care less, to act less, to think less. To consume more, to want more, to desire more;

to care less to act less to think less

I need my desire to be for the rest of the world to know that there is a hope, Im praying for this. But it feels inactive, and writing a blog doesnt really help.

But once again Im epitomising my culture by writing about the issue and not actually doing anything.

Whine Whine Whine.

Ughh, Welcome to my blog!!

I suck.