I always thought of the hallways in high school as movement of large amounts of animals or the movement of rivers. You jump in, try not to get crushed, follow highly elaborate unwritten rules of who to elbow past, who to fall in beside or behind, who to wave hi to going the opposite direction, who to avoid and who to ignore. fascinating stuff, really.
I felt the same way about school hallways. I never learned the social rules, though, I just muddled my way through. But I did write some satirical things about how I felt whenever the crowd trapped me behind or in front of someone who wanted to move at a completely different pace.
I live in a place where people love crowds and noise. Where radios and TVs run non-stop, ignored, because they need the background noise. Where socialising is done at a shout by preference. Where people act like lemmings, following the fashions because that’s how it’s done. If a garment isn’t “being worn this year”, it’s as if it had never existed; they look at you as if you were asking for a flying horse instead of a pair of black trainers. They read, watch, eat, and do what the media tells them they like. Do they really like it? They must, because that’s what’s “in.”
Me, I stay indoors. I dream of peace and quiet. Less noise and more green. I prefer my conversations sotto voce. One on one. I am not a lemming.
Another comment influenced by the fact that I am visiting Secret Vespers for a contemplative coffee break in the middle of writing an essay.
“I have then considered myself as a particle broken off from the grand mass of mankind; – I was alone, till some involuntary sympathetic emotion, like the attraction of adhesion, made me feel that I was still a part of a mighty whole, from which I could not sever myself.”
- Mary Wollstonecraft, Letters from Sweden.
Feelings of loneliness can often be overwhelming, and leave you lacking a sense of relatedness to the world. But sometimes, strangely, feeling sad and isolated can remind you that so many people often feel sad and isolated; albeit in their own ways.
… yes, all people hate the flock/herd. All people think they are different. There is NOONE on earth who sees himself as a part of such a group. Or would claim/admit that he/she is. Yet, nearly all people agree on the theory that “most people are just like a flock of sheep/wolves/animals/coconuts”. So, who IS “part of” and who isn’t? There are threee possibilities: Noone is part of, everybody is part of, the majority is part of a flock. If we add those possibilities up, it’s still most likely that “you” (whoever reads this sentence) ARE part of a flock. Even if you don’t feel that way. Someone HAS to be, else we would have to give up that “flock” idea.
I always thought of the hallways in high school as movement of large amounts of animals or the movement of rivers. You jump in, try not to get crushed, follow highly elaborate unwritten rules of who to elbow past, who to fall in beside or behind, who to wave hi to going the opposite direction, who to avoid and who to ignore. fascinating stuff, really.
I felt the same way about school hallways. I never learned the social rules, though, I just muddled my way through. But I did write some satirical things about how I felt whenever the crowd trapped me behind or in front of someone who wanted to move at a completely different pace.
http://erikahammerschmidt.johnanderikaspeak.com/an/index.php?itemid=287
I live in a place where people love crowds and noise. Where radios and TVs run non-stop, ignored, because they need the background noise. Where socialising is done at a shout by preference. Where people act like lemmings, following the fashions because that’s how it’s done. If a garment isn’t “being worn this year”, it’s as if it had never existed; they look at you as if you were asking for a flying horse instead of a pair of black trainers. They read, watch, eat, and do what the media tells them they like. Do they really like it? They must, because that’s what’s “in.”
Me, I stay indoors. I dream of peace and quiet. Less noise and more green. I prefer my conversations sotto voce. One on one. I am not a lemming.
Another comment influenced by the fact that I am visiting Secret Vespers for a contemplative coffee break in the middle of writing an essay.
“I have then considered myself as a particle broken off from the grand mass of mankind; – I was alone, till some involuntary sympathetic emotion, like the attraction of adhesion, made me feel that I was still a part of a mighty whole, from which I could not sever myself.”
- Mary Wollstonecraft, Letters from Sweden.
Feelings of loneliness can often be overwhelming, and leave you lacking a sense of relatedness to the world. But sometimes, strangely, feeling sad and isolated can remind you that so many people often feel sad and isolated; albeit in their own ways.
I’m reminded of Alan Parsons’ ‘Wouldn’t want to be like you’, protesting against blind conformity and mob rule…
… yes, all people hate the flock/herd. All people think they are different. There is NOONE on earth who sees himself as a part of such a group. Or would claim/admit that he/she is. Yet, nearly all people agree on the theory that “most people are just like a flock of sheep/wolves/animals/coconuts”. So, who IS “part of” and who isn’t? There are threee possibilities: Noone is part of, everybody is part of, the majority is part of a flock. If we add those possibilities up, it’s still most likely that “you” (whoever reads this sentence) ARE part of a flock. Even if you don’t feel that way. Someone HAS to be, else we would have to give up that “flock” idea.
I like you. We’re all conforming to something.