I’ve figured out why I hate those motivational quote things that are such a rage in the mornings that they flood my twitter timeline and facebook news feed. Worse than the quotes themselves I quite possible loath the individuals responsible for them who consider themselves general managers of the universe of sorts, tweeting platitudes such as “If you dream it, you can be it” as if any truth exists therein.
I divide the culprits into one of three categories; one, people who are so unhappy with their lives that they believe tweeting motivational garb somehow brings meaning to their otherwise meaningless existences, two, annoyingly positive individuals so high on something (prescribed or otherwise) because that kind of perkiness at such ungodly hours couldn’t possibly be natural and lastly, unpopular folk that are so thirsty for mentions, likes or comments that they Google profound verses ill-advisedly, imagining that their being ‘deeper than though’ is a faultless path towards popularity.
I have issues with all three of the above and quite possibly envy them because my medicine of choice makes me cathartically introspective than happy in any way. So I must be doing something wrong then? That said, perhaps I live in the same world that middle aged Caucasian women are from. Seriously, try and find one that has anything positive to say about…uhm, say the sun shining for instance? Given up? Thought as much. Anyway, yes, I must be from wherever they’re from because being a pessimist and nay sayer has become second nature to me, quite unwittingly I might add.
In all honesty, it is that much easier to scoff at everything rather than find the good in whatever because I’ve quite frankly become tired of it. ‘Oh, our president took a shower, the country is going to the dogs. I’m so ready to emigrate!’ or ‘Who the hell does she think she is refusing to go to club Hush? She isn’t all that special!’ and in what is usually said in the same breath; ‘These Sandton girls are so fickle and shallow! Why don’t they get themselves an education instead of mooching off older men?!’
Yes, spewing negative venom rolls off all too easily off of my tongue, and experience has me biting it to say that it is probably the same for most people. Are we (am I) so unhappy that any and all suggestion of rainbows or love spreading cherubs an idea that induces a gag reflex? Are we (Am I) so obsessed with breaking bad that we readily look to celebrities with bad attitudes because they represent the inherent negative with us? Are we (Am I) that obsessed with being different and individualistic that we’d readily trash anything angelic and revered because we assume it to be conformist and boring? What is all this cynicism about?
The bad attitude and proud mean in humanity has gone from being the stuff of rock stars in the vein of the Kurt Cobaine’s of the world to pop princesses such as Britney Spears, Rihanna and others like them. What’s even more curious is how we lap it all up without question or objection. Or more to the point, are we (am I) reverse bullying all the people that ostracised us underage when we were nerds that prance currently as being too hip to tolerate uninformed opinions that we’ll search the depths of our wealth of knowledge to dismiss those that were col kids in our youth in a bid to get back at them?
The truth of any of this is arguable but some merit lies hidden therein. The prettiest girl in high school never makes it to varsity and inadvertently becomes either the girl at Kong gyrating with all her might to secure her next drink or the one stuck in the townships married to a bastard the youngest of her innumerable children from different men. The popular jock in high school generally ends up as the guy serving you at Woolworths as you buy overpriced food in pursuit of ‘the difference’, or the taxi driver that cuts you off at the off-ramp into Rivonia Road on your way to the awesome job you hate so much.
So, this leaves us feeling bitter because in our twenty something’s there is no longer an audience of mindless teens ready to hail us as awesome and cool for having big breasts, good looks or because our mothers are rich. No, now the audience is the internet where opinions are thrown around carelessly to our advantage because we spend our time lurking and trolling to catch out the idiot that opines without any substantial facts, or less interestingly, the careless tweep submitting more typos than Eminem can rap words in that verse on Rap God. We are mean, bloody internet bullies!