written on 5/8/10.
..a sad Italian history of corruption by local leaders and exploitation by foreign dominators, all of which has generally led Italians to draw the seemingly accurate conclusion that nobody and nothing in this world can be trusted. Because the world is so corrupted, misspoken, unstable, exaggerated and unfair, one should trust only what one can experience with one's own senses, and this makes the senses stronger in Italy than anywhere in Europe. This is why Italians will tolerate hideously incompetent generals, presidents, tyrants, professors, bureaucrats, journalists and captains of industry, but will never tolerate incompetent "opera singers, conductors, ballerinas, courtesans, actors, film directors, cooks tailors..." In a world of disorder and disaster and fraud, sometimes only beauty can be trusted. Only artisitc excellence is incorruptible. Pleasure cannot be bargained down. And sometimes the meal is the only currency that is real."
-Eat, Pray, Love, p.114
I lied during my high school graduation speech, as a kid, I probably wasn't all that curious about this world. why would I be when world seemed indisputable. i probably never asked questions like "WHO AM I" not only due to lack of such cognitive ability but because there was no need, probably until a random kid started disliking me for God knows what reason- no reason. I probably became less secure, more confused, less trusting, more fearful, less faithful and more clingy, as I encountered more and more of those what I call 'zombi moments' (inspired by the scariest movie ever '28 weeks later') where my once dad is now a zombie and my completely viable argument that he probably shouldn't eat me because i'm his daughter doesn't seem to work. maybe world works backwards. I might actually know less as years go by as I keep having to cross off things from my list of "this I know is logical and true."
as my tool to navigate in this world, i chose sensibility.
i can make an addition to my most sacred society of truths if I can understand why and can make sense of it. I was never 'disciplined' growing up because my parents knew better not to waste anyone's time yelling again and again what to do. they knew that if they could convince me to understand why they are telling me to do it, 100 Kumon math problems or eat vegetables, even as a little kid, I'd do them without a complaint. this is why one of the incontestable truth on my list is that of all the bad things I could be, i'm not stubborn, though this has been challenged by the annoyingly persistent motion that 'i'm always in denial.'
but coping is not curing, and it still hurts.
I'm astounded at myself that, even after 22 years, I'm yet still affected by the lack of perfection in this world. I'm still surprised at seeing the most immutable beliefs change, things aren't the way they appear, theories differ from the actual happenings, good might not actually be good and very small portion of anything in this world could be set in stone as 'the truth.' when I see argument and counter-arguments, what i believe is like "omg so true" is not so true with new encounters of people, when I encounter "truths" but then-there's-these-quotation-around-it-sort-of-deal, etc., i want to cry like a little child crying of all the offensiveness and unjustness.
I don't really know anything.
yet I so desire to find a sense of peace and settlement with all that I see, believe and live with. It would be so much easier if life was binomial, just black and white.
so i'm going to try something else and pick a new weapon for my life's journey- sense.
i will not do the cost-benefit analysis, trade-off calculations and leave my brain economic-free. instead, i will sense and believe in its pureness felt on my lips, my ears and my sight.
in other words, i'm going to have faith that what is good is good.
hello seattle.
