My Story (Part 2)
My last post dealt with my personal convictions of where I came from. By high school I was convinced that I was a random product of time and chance. Yet, some years before that I had already let go of the concept of there being a God. Unfortunately, that didn't leave much room for meaning. In fact, I think I shared my meaninglessness with the rest of my fellow class mates. Let's rewind to that awfully anxious Y2K period and center in around the heartbreaking halls of Macfarland Junior High.
Looking back into the Bordentown Regional Public School System, I see students with major identity crises. In eighth grade there was an anti-Semitic scare that vandalized a particular girls locker with swastikas and other hateful letters. It scared us. We didn't think people still did that kind of thing. That is, until it turned out that the girl was vandalizing her own things and sending herself nasty letters. That poor girl, what kind of attention was she not getting, what kind of love was she not receiving to have cried out for help in such a way? All I know is that we simply laughed about it at the time. She was the talk of the school!
Remember Jnco's? Hardcore music was king in those years. I seemed to naturally digress right into it. I had some major crushes on some of the girls in it, so I was totally cool with its main allure of anger and sex. For that reason, I felt right at home. Yet, in hindsight, how sad was it? These kids lacked such personal value and worth that they defined themselves by being used by others. These girls were in middle school and they were sleeping with many of the upper class men in the high schools. To my disappointment (at the time) I never made it with any of them. You see, I had a height disadvantage and I guess it wasn't cool to sleep around with guys much shorter and squeakier than you.
As a result of the constant rejection my life spiraled toward apathy. I defined myself by music that preached that same meaninglessness. I would take up my identity as the non-conformist. There was nothing I did not reject for the sake of rejecting. I was an angry skeptic. I didn't care and could not be bothered to care. I was a young man with a broken heart driven by his desires, longing for love, but not knowing what love even was.
I didn't like Linkin Park, it was too mainstream, but I do find that this chorus was the defining chorus of my generation at the time. We didn't all take to the same route, some of us identified ourselves in different cliques, but the thing that we all desired was authenticity.
Looking back into the Bordentown Regional Public School System, I see students with major identity crises. In eighth grade there was an anti-Semitic scare that vandalized a particular girls locker with swastikas and other hateful letters. It scared us. We didn't think people still did that kind of thing. That is, until it turned out that the girl was vandalizing her own things and sending herself nasty letters. That poor girl, what kind of attention was she not getting, what kind of love was she not receiving to have cried out for help in such a way? All I know is that we simply laughed about it at the time. She was the talk of the school!
Remember Jnco's? Hardcore music was king in those years. I seemed to naturally digress right into it. I had some major crushes on some of the girls in it, so I was totally cool with its main allure of anger and sex. For that reason, I felt right at home. Yet, in hindsight, how sad was it? These kids lacked such personal value and worth that they defined themselves by being used by others. These girls were in middle school and they were sleeping with many of the upper class men in the high schools. To my disappointment (at the time) I never made it with any of them. You see, I had a height disadvantage and I guess it wasn't cool to sleep around with guys much shorter and squeakier than you.
As a result of the constant rejection my life spiraled toward apathy. I defined myself by music that preached that same meaninglessness. I would take up my identity as the non-conformist. There was nothing I did not reject for the sake of rejecting. I was an angry skeptic. I didn't care and could not be bothered to care. I was a young man with a broken heart driven by his desires, longing for love, but not knowing what love even was.
I didn't like Linkin Park, it was too mainstream, but I do find that this chorus was the defining chorus of my generation at the time. We didn't all take to the same route, some of us identified ourselves in different cliques, but the thing that we all desired was authenticity.
"I wanna heal, I wanna feel
What I thought was never real
What I thought was never real
I wanna let go of the pain
Ive felt so long
Ive felt so long
(Erase all the pain till its gone)
I wanna heal, I wanna feel
Like Im close to something real
I wanna find something Ive wanted all along
Somewhere I belong"
Much of my generation still assumes that they have found where they belong. They have entrenched themselves firmly in their identities in certain artists, certain genres, certain activities, and certain pleasures. It was all a result of the jettisoning of absolutes. Everyone had worth, but no one knew why or where it came from, eventually we stopped believing it. We were raised in a sort of vacuum. There was nothing to fill the emptiness all around us except what we filled it with. So we tried and to our dismay, no matter what we filled it with, we were still lacking. We tried ambition, we tried self sufficiency, we tried independence and in the end we always found that despite those noble pursuits there was no meaning. Many of us forfeited it all, assumed that life was just one volatile relationship after another, and as the pain crowned our hearts we gave into apathetic lifestyles.
Mine is a brokenhearted generation. We couldn't see the lies that we lived amidst, but we surely felt the brokenness of empty lives all around us. During these years, many of our families melted and dissolved, and with it our childish wonder. We quickly adopted anything that eased our pain, and by the beginning of high school the stage was set for the destruction of our innocence.
My story is like yours. We grew up together. We were all in search of something real.
My story is like yours. We grew up together. We were all in search of something real.
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