Half A Decade Passed (update)

     It's strange for me to think that it has already been half a decade since I first started this blog back when I was in my last year of high school. In the years since, a great deal has changed, both in life and in my writing itself. For example, when I was only first starting the blog, I posted five or so short stories all in one day. On top of that, those earlier works tended towards darkness and chaos, and prominently ended in death. I actually wrote a short story recently following that twisted form named "The Madness of the Scholar", which can be found here. 

     Then came CEGEP, or college, and with that came the study of the obsessions, a predominantly first-hand study if I must say so myself. In the beginning, it was unknown and unrecognized, but around the time when this blog turned two years old, it became a conscious pursuit in an attempt to understand the way in which the mind and body differentiate that which is fictional against what is real. I took an image of a girl roughly my age and created a whole character around it. The experiment, as I've come to call it, was a horrifying success. I learned that even obsessions knowingly based off of fiction can provide the same or perhaps even an intensified feeling as a regular crush or affection would. That's why obsession is so easy to fall into, and why it is so dangerous. 

     The year after was the first year of departure, during which I left my parents' home to go off to university in a different part of the province. The consequence of this was reflections on the nature of home and belonging, as well as increased intellectual curiosity in other subjects such as philosophy. Ultimately what turned out to be my downfall in this year was a careless misunderstanding of obsession, which would come to remind me that the true danger in obsession is ultimately through the fictionalization and idealization of real people that one has real contact with. 

     And then there was the Crash, in which my aunt and uncle were killed. This radically changed the nature of my life and my interaction with the world around me. I have called this particular period the second Fall. There was an attempt to cling to the Flames, to pull myself out of the pit I had fallen into, but it would take many months before that happened. And then from there, there was the guilt and self-loathing that came as a result of some of my actions. But in this time, I was busy working on a three part theory of love, which would really come together this year.

     This past year has been one of hope, love, heartbreak, and grief. Looking up at the lines of poetry from William Blake that I put on my wall this past summer, I can tell I was trying to keep myself in the Flames because it was becoming so easy to give in and give up.

Lines from Blake:

 "Bring me my Bow of burning gold:

Bring me my Arrows of desire:

Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!

Bring me my Chariot of fire!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,

Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:"

(From Milton, plate 1, lines 9-14)

     During this time, I more or less finished my general theory of love, splitting it up into three categories, spiritual, sexual, and companionate. A quick summary, companionate is the family/friend form of love, which is usually long term and based on trust and safety. Sexual is essentially physical intimacy, and spiritual is perhaps the worst named of the three, being the more magical form of love that we find in romantic relationships. 

     Anyways, besides just this theory of love, I also began getting more involved in social issues, which seems appropriate due to the nature of my liberal arts education. Just in September, after reading a strange little book called "The Collector" (which is unsettlingly close to my own "Who is the True Monster", and portrays obsession quite well), I finally noticed another key aspect of obsession in Western society that goes all the way back to Petrarch, if not further, being the praising and dependence on beauty. It seems to me that this is a result of taking one's appearance as representative of the whole, which is dehumanizing. Oscar Wilde's "The Picture of Dorian Grey" criticizes this quite intensely, actually, and I happened to write quite a long paper exploring that some time ago. I just didn't make the link between the 1900 novel and today's society, where beauty is praised so highly (even though it's kind of useless). 

     It's also strange to think that five years ago, when I started this blog, I probably would have never thought that I would write a post like this, generalizing ideas that I've had and the direction of my life over the lifespan of the blog. Of course back then everything was so raw for me. But, incidentally, somethings haven't changed. I am still on the same path as I was back then, although perhaps now I cannot see quite as far as I could then. The Flames still burn through my body and soul, guiding and aiding me when I need them. I'm still incredibly suspicious of fear and somehow still think that a life lived out of fear is not a life at all. I have written poems and the like on the overcoming of fears I did not realize I had, but I sent them elsewhere instead of posting them here. 

     Anyways, I think I have gone on long enough. It will suffice to say that the past five years have been a wonderful learning experience with its own horrors and sorrows, and I look forward to the future when I will look back at this time and be glad I continued to learn. God knows there is still so much to learn. Take care. Until next time,

-Zero