November 19, 2017 by Rivky
If you’re reading this whole thing, wowza, kudos to you, (do people still use that word? Do people read much anymore?). (Feel free to absolutely skip this shenanigan and scroll all the way down to the bottom to just listen to my version of #LeonardCohen‘s #Hallelujah with my original lyrical bit at the end! It isn’t as long as this…though for some folks these days even a song may be too long).
I was drinking coffee, feeling existential neurotic contemplation. Jotting stuff down. Oh, wait, the usual journaling without looking back kinda thing. Except shared.
Sometimes I’m uncertain of how to “correctly” use facebook and other social platforms -fascinating to witness this culture. It’s the ultimate mixing of business, pleasure, an extreme experiment of humans sharing most honestly, vulnerably with a salad riddled of #altfacts I’ve come to experience. Group clusters here, there, attracted to those of a particular scented perfume they fancy. Like those high school days, where you fumble to figure out who you are, your identity, what best suits you, what your needs are, if any at all, what motivates you. And what the heck it’s all supposed to mean anyway at the end of that road.
I admire those who freely engage on the internet, I admire those that deactivate pages altogether, I admire those that smartly network for business, for pleasure, use it as a platform for positive change, for remaining in touch with old and new friends. For being the fly on the wall observer. I admire those that don’t give a bumble f–ck about this status, that video, their post. I even admire those who don’t think through posting and carelessly deal or don’t deal with the repercussions later…
I’m an introvert. With a scattered/language thought processing disorder. Facebook is sometimes a wonderful tool to extrovert yourself. I sometimes find it VERY difficult to share even a word. These are many. I know. I find it damned hard to shamelessly promote, to have opinionated banter, share news, inspirational viral videos. I also have a brain that simply doesn’t allow for this extreme informational processing. Like seizure activity, over stimulation from simply looking at the scrolling down screen can wreak havoc on my hourly routine -the light on my phone/computer screen is often dimmed. Even simply creating an event selecting people to invite can become an overloaded sensory ordeal that’s painful.
Could it be that this revolutionary age, while, though our awareness and knowledge of the world has expanded exponentially, somehow this universal platform is also shifting us away from self awareness, ironically influencing a higher rate of inherent narcissistic behavior, too? It’s strange as an adult, years later I find myself having to ponder these extraordinary cultural niches on the internet, where blind, seductive, mishandled judgements occur at a faster rate than this message will be shared.
Yes, I was that sensitive kid in school. Suddenly a fleeting thought as an adult becomes: Where do I fit in? I’d imagine that kids today have it frighteningly more challenging because of these “clicks” that now have trickled, spread like wildfire into everyday life, no longer just inside that comparatively small classroom. And if you’re the parent being bullied or bullying…or in a hypothetical scenario…the president, (the scariest bit is the part where all parties are unaware of the “bullying” being played out -which perplexes my understanding of our inner dialogue and outer dialogue with which we use language, woven into our emotional perceptions, somewhat limiting us and creating barriers on an even deeper level), then, how on earth will this kid get by? Where now, parent, teacher, delivery man, doctor, mechanic, president, celebrity, introvert and extrovert all engage on a paradoxically equal platform. What part of the body and mind need catching up or re-learning or introducing a new approach? What are we missing here? Or is it all as it’s meant to be. Perhaps my childhood school days now look safe, contained, somewhat manageable inside of that old school bubble. I don’t know why I felt like typing out this meshugasen, unfiltered is easiest.
Neither you nor I, nor anyone else will likely ever be done figuring it out. It’s Saturday, I’m having coffee, just stepping back and speculating on the woes of the world?
Maybe it’ll inspire a new song. At a time when I’m feeling most vulnerable, conflicted, frightened by so much, I’m reminded of all these inspiring folks I’ve crossed paths with and that we’re also not so alone in our worries and insecurities.
Upon request, years ago I’d been asked to sing a bit of this tune. I didn’t want to, I don’t feel comfortable doing covers unless it’s that free-spirited way, making it easier, organic. But this song just keeps coming back full circle year after year. Every few months I’m asked again. Strangely, this week 2 events happened. One sad, one joyful. My friend lost her son, a terrible tragedy. And a few days later another friend celebrated his birthday. In both cases I’d been asked to share this gift in such an incredibly different light. So.
Here is my version of Hallelujah with my own lyrical bit at the end.
Be good to yourself this holiday, would you?