mind*numb
the whole thing is mind numbing
so extreme, so intense
it prevents normal thought…
but what is normal thought?
is love a normal thought?
is fear?
I can think of about a dozen
or so profane things that bubbled up
to the surface of my mind today
and not one of which was said aloud
because I’m sure I would have been
laughed out of the room or
might have caused an argument
or who knows what else…
normal thoughts… ha!
we all think abnormal things —
abhorrent things, perverse
and treacherous things, and those
ideas live side-by-side with
all the well-wishes and the noble truths,
the kind intentions we seem
to believe better represent us
as good and moral characters…
it’s only considered awful when
these shitty things are said in public
or acted upon, or employed
as a means to hurt or take advantage
of our conspecifics
what can I say…
think whatever you want to think
there are no thought police here
there are only etiquette police
and they are all around us
we are all etiquette police
and we’re all looking to arrest each other
yet not a single one of us
thinks we deserve the cuffs ourselves
“I have no desire for others to take it upon themselves to analyze my thoughts. I am without thoughts. I have never, not even once, acted on the basis of any doctrine or philosophy. I am convinced that those people whom the world considers good and respects are all liars and fakes. I do not trust the world. My only ally is the tagged dissolute.”
—Osamu Dazai, The Setting Sun
Garbage Notes:
I wrote this at a time when I was working a job that was really awfully mind numbing. It was the kind of job where your brain becomes totally fried by the end of the day, where literally not a single task you do feels even the least bit meaningful.
I think a lot of jobs are like this. It’s on purpose. The whole point is to snuff out the capacity for original thought. It’s sad, but there are many bosses out there who don’t want creative independent-minded thinking clouding up all that “productivity”.
It’s not right that some people have to completely shut off their brains because they’d rather not reflect on the mental anguish they’re going through on a daily basis.
So, I was at this job, and some people at the job were more vocal than others about how unpleasant it was. And almost always, it was the loudmouths who got punished for speaking out about how shitty and mindless and mechanistic and boring and how utterly inhumanely routine all the shit was.
This poem, if it’s about anything, is about how sometimes human beings are forced to swallow their emotions, keep their thoughts to themselves because these thoughts might put them at risk for harsh judgement and negative social ramifications.
It might cause them to get fired or penalized or ostracized or lose friends or get abandoned by their families or worse.
Thinking the wrong thing is one thing. We all are free to think and feel and process the outside world as we please, right? Acting on those thoughts is another. Speaking on those things, well, now, that’s somewhere in between.
Just because we think something, doesn’t make it true. Just because we say something, doesn’t mean we mean it. Also, just because we imagine something, doesn’t mean we want that in reality.
The mind is capable of many powerful things. One of those things is changing itself.
Yes, there are times when our deepest thoughts, even the ones buried under the most mind numbing tasks or the strictest of societal constraints, are the ones we need to share the most. But other times, they’re just passing thoughts, and we should feel the freedom to think and feel and introspect as we wish, regardless of what anyone else out there might have to say about it.
The line I like the most is, “there are no thought police here, only etiquette police—and we are all etiquette police.” This shows that we are all guilty of enforcing the ridiculous, absurd and often unspoken rules of society.
Even if we want to lash out and go our own way, there is a part of us that looks at others with scorn when they step out of line. But there is also a part of us that envies other people who are brave enough to break the rules we ourselves are too scared to break.
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Nothing is "normal" because there is no such thing, thank goodness. We make "normal" whatever we want it to be. It's our construct to mold.
Excellent poem Franco.
I suppose there are 3 types of bosses in the world Risk takers, piss takers and just takers.