A restless night has not produced great sleep, so I figured I might as well do some writing to tire my mind out. Plus, I’m days behind on posts again. I seem to be on-off with my self-imposed commitments. I’ll have a good strong week of blogging, with quality content and lucid flow; I’ll run/bike a dozen miles over a couple days. Then I’ll fall out of it, and do absolutely nothing (especially bad if two habits fall out of sync at the same time).
Welp, no use fretting over it. Methinks I’ll just chalk it up as “c’est la vie” // “so it goes.” I’ve recently been pondering how definitions and labels are created and maintained in standard operating society. Toying with the duality/modality/balance themes that I so enjoy, my assessment has lead me to believe that definitive labels are either all-important, or completely arbitrary.
“Yeah we’re locked up in ideas /
We like to label everything /
Well I’m just gonna do here what I gotta do here /
‘Cause I gotta keep myself free”
“You say, ‘Now what’s your style and who d’you listen to?’ Who cares?
Well that rat race ladder-climbing fake-face smile’s got nothing on me”
This Treasure Fingers remix is a brilliant diamond. I’ve seen the man DJ some truly dynamic sets of music.
We live and die by our labels, whether we like them or not. How have we become to be labeled as we currently are? Who assigned us these definitions? Did we have any say? I’d say yes and no, because labels seem to be perpetuated simultaneously between those around us looking in, and our own selves looking out. Interpersonal communication is never static; messages are always being encoded > sent > received > decoded > analyzed in both directions between parties, ad infinitum.
So, I currently label myself as “an alcoholic.” What connotations does that label carry with it? My assumption is that to the average person walking around out there, the word alcoholic conjures up some negative images. Maybe. I was also labeled “an alcoholic” while I was in rehab. I know through positive reinforcement that in the duration of my experience with the program, this was not in any way a “bad” thing.
More and more I find I care less and less. So what if I am, so what if I am not? To quote The Dude: “Yeah, well, that’s just like, your opinion, man.” Let me grab a fistful of words and cup them in my hands, throwing them up like chalkdust and letting the chips fall where they may. The first rule of social osmosis is to leave judgments at the door. This is America, and I’ll be goddamned if some ship of ignorant fools is going to float in and strip me of my freedom to exist outside the prisons of labels and definitions.
I actually take pride in the fact that I’m not so simply assigned a label from society’s generic grab-bag of titles. Or at least I attempt to make it so. It upsets the establishment when they have to really make an effort to pigeon-hole you into some preexisting category of the human condition. Introduce a little chaos to the world. Live in the free-form.
Let’s introduce a little more free-form jazz to the world at large, too.