Phonies

I want to speak about the things most of us aren't willing to talk about.
Or at least, I desire to be that sort of blogger.

Anything else besides my desire and my language skills is beyond my control.

It has come to my realization that alot of times the things we aren't speaking about is where the pain is. And by coming to terms with them, by speaking the truth, perhaps we heal.

I grow up in major cities all my life. Might it be in Taipei, Singapore, or New York City, as a wide-eyed child time and time again I have seen people putting up shields of social mask and persona's because we believe that is what is expected of us. It isn't that I could not understand the need for Defence Mechanisms. It is the fact that I couldn't understand why we can't be honest or comfortable with ourselves.

I have always wondered why we find being a "phony" (in the words of Holden Caulfield) to be synonymous with conditions such as being an adult, or being mature. I used to think Holden's cool (with a captial C). He was the rebel, the cool kid, and the deviant. I guess as a teenager, I just appreciate the authenticity of his thinking-outside-the-box.

Today we live in a very phony-driven age. With the advancement of technology, we take pictures of ourselves everywhere. I like many others, try to leave the best mark on our profile because it is human nature to do so. But beneath the image, how align are we to the photographies? Does the gap causes significant dissatisfaction? I hope it doesn't. While taking pictures of myself, I am highly aware of my phony behaviors, yet at the same time, I seem to enjoy it.

 "You're too honest Phoebe", and "You speak without thinking." has always been the criticism I get from my dearest friends, for they believe that I would be hurt by the ones who couldn't handle the truth. And there are times when they are right. Overly speaking my mind is the equivalent of being brainless or insensitive to other people's emotions. But ironically it has also been due to the same criticism that my friends have chose to stick by my side. I am the fortunate kind.

You win some you lose some.

There are always somethings that we can't change isn't it? Our personalities, our sexual attraction, our parents, or our strengths and weaknesses. , sometimes our health, or our physical appearance. We might improve them, but can we truly do a complete change? The cruel answer is no. So that leaves me wondering how much of our phoniness is perhaps an innate trait? Perhaps Holden was wrong in his judgments. Phonies might not have choose to be phonies. They are simply "born this way." And to think right now, how much hurt and suffering we have inflected on others by forcing a change on someone?

Forcing a lefty to use their right hand, forcing a gay child to dress a certain way, forcing obedience and order. How many of us do we truly know what we are doing? How many of us have lost ourselves in our self-declared certainty? Despite my phoniness, I am also just a person, filled with sound and fury.

And whenever I am in a mood like this, pondering and debating with myself. At the end of the day as I look upon the night sky, watchful of that rising sun or that full moon leaves me certain that I am but a minuscule dust residing on this very vast galaxy, that I will never completely understand. Knowing how small I am reminds me of how even smaller my phoniness matters.

And that, deserves a large size selfie.