Friday, April 12, 2013

The Optimistic Circumference



I guess this is an optimistic blog post, and why the fuck not, huh? I'm so dejected by how feeble-bodied, unstable, and too-quick-to-retrieve I have been recently; and I maintain the same for many a "presumed" agile-bodied persons around me. 
This blog in effect, is a tri-catharsis. Simplistically, it's a trifecta; a trio of inspirational pieces- symbolically positioned in three's, with homage to the Old Wives Tales that deemed three a digit of luck, so to say, vis.a.viz stories such as 3 blind Mice, the 3 musketeers, Thrice as lucky, independently etc, etc. 
The pictures aren't indicative of anything closely resembling facets of an ego or a sentiment, rather they summarize or juxtapose those emotions, resembling what they reflect (instead of defining what they are)


Picture 1: The adage in itself is what compelled to 'randomly' select this picture, having saved it not so long ago. "We develop from the negatives," what a deductively significant premise by which to understand our condition; our innate humanity, in our own undoing, our mortality, and mere nothingness in the face of whatever presides over us. There must be something infinite, beyond our trajectory and our understanding, that doesn't seek to sustain us, but merely presides over us as median of continuum and momentum, or better, the ongoing of things- keeper of the timeline. The one who understands what we'll forever be unsure of, doubt, wonder about, and struggle to remember. In retrospect, this adage is discipline; a sheer lesson through which we could be humbled, through a subtle reminder of our mere humanness, and the necessary imperfection that precedes that. It screams, don't be so fixated, let loose, but don't forget where you're coming from. What happened in the past is always going to matter, but that doesn't mean we should live trying to ameliorate that...we must develop. 


Picture 2: This picture, featuring the Kardashian sister, Kourtney clad in a whimsical, chic, and modernistic set of apparel going about her daily activities, out and about on the fame-sizzling shores of Los Angeles, California, is a direct or a robust allusion to the desires, similarities, differences, distinctions, and social patterns by which I exist, and through which I seek a sense of equality, inspiration, and in most respects, from which I derive sheer entertainment. I can't even answer the question: why do you like the Kardashians  so much? anymore, because I've reverted to an extreme sense of antipathy where concern in my likes and dislikes are concerned; it doesn't matter so significantly to me, that I should need to validate it. I know what I like, and I wouldn't like it, if I wasn't so inclined. Explain? no.
Not long ago it was their relentless willingness to succeed, perfect, create, astonish, amuse, entertain, and unanimously inspire, that drew me towards them, like a fly to a UV light. It was inevitable. Perhaps I had long shared similar ambitions, and reveled being able to watch them egress, through the unyielding, fabulous, and tireless efforts of the Kardashian sisters, whose contrasting personalities were a blithe reflection of the enhanced and developing personas every single person, or select persons might harbor within them. A gentle reminder of the abnormality in your life, and then the reality of their very "nothingness", in what has evolved into an age of mass media and pop culture transformation, responsible for churning out artists such Britney Spears, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Beyonce, and the album-gurgling, Rihanna whose Barbados-inspired beats have long indoctrinated even the most seasoned of music listeners. 
All that and I still had to justify my liking...No way. Let it be. I dig all of them, and in terms of its significance or poignancy on this list, it's a relation between my "utilities or modes" of catharsis- my runway, or strip, whatever you'd wish to coin it, from the murky air of what vexes me; it's a platform whereon I may escape, retreat into, and exile myself in solitary freedom. A dose of "fabulosity".


Picture 3: without fleeing off on a tangent, this picture was selected because it's one of my most recent, with one of my Wits buddies, Italian-cliche, GlamTrio doll, and Musician, Samantha Jacobs whose formal surname is actually Cerasoli. I met SammiSmoochie in the year I repeated my Italian (After the attempt Azizza, Claire, and I made the previous year), and I didn't envision our friendship transpiring into what it has become now. We're really close and very alike, in that we're both passionate about the Arts and Entertainment industry. Sam is like, among the other few friends I have, whose judgement and opinion I will actually take to heart and earnest consideration- pertinently in the creative sphere. Sam inspires me through and through, and really we push and uplift each other so much, both trying slavishly to reach the apex of our wildest dreams. I am confident that she'll rise to her zenith, and that no matter what, our friendship will remain unhindered by whichever effects may unravel as we tarry on. We share some rather rampant, wild, and out of this world memories, and experiences, extending from the Drakensburg all the way to shindigs here in the groovy Highveld. And this photo is a visual reminder of all that was just said, so it's partially empowering, partially influential, and in some way, motivating to look at this and remember what needs be remembered, and to cling to whichever rope it is I am clinging onto. 

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