Community of Convenience

I've struggled with this post in various forms over the last several months, to tell the truth. Each time I've held back on pressing the post button, as something sounded too harsh, too world-weary. Too... honest. But tonight, it feels right. Like I've had a change in perspective. Or maybe I'm just not giving as much of a crap as I normally do. A bit of honesty can be a relief, but also a dangerous thing. Regardless, tonight I am going to write about the Blog Roll's topic of 'community', and tonight I'm going to press that post button and forget about it...


Singapore definitely has had a major impact on my life. Being in a different place, with different people, different problems, it gives you excellent perspective on your life. For pretty much the entire start of the year, I was fretting about what I was doing with my life. That I hadn't done anything with my life, especially in this year. When you're stressed, it consumes your life. Having such a major experience away really did calm me. Not only did it tick the box of having a worth-while experience this year, but it gave me a break from the stresses back in New Zealand. This in turn, has allowed so many more emotions and new ideas to enter, and really helped me start to get my life back on track.

This new-found perspective has really helped me examine parts of my life. What do they mean? Are they important? Which brings me to my thoughts on "community". As I mentioned, I've dabbled around it previously, but have never felt right about what I've had to say. Now I can look at it for what it is, and without struggling against it, I can finally call it as I see it.

"From Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia - Community usually refers to a social unit larger than a small village that shares common values. A community is a group or society, helping each other."

I'm going to come straight out and say it: I'm not part of any community, nor have I truly been part of a community, ever in my life, for very long. Sure, I belong to my city's community in the first sense of the term. Feeling a part of a group or society who is there for you, however - belonging - now that is a concept that is still estranged from me.

I believe we as a people, are a community of convenience. A lot of this ties back into my post about how we know we really love someone, which if you haven't read, you should, as it explains a lot about my views on what caring actually is. When things get hard, who really is left standing around to have your back? To be there for you? I know I'm bitter, but community means one thing for me: isolation.

You know that saying? You can feel most alone when surrounded by many people? That's how I feel. Being in a community for me is a chance for a "social unit larger than a small village" to consistently let me down.

I've not hid the fact from most people that I've not had an easy past few years. Heck, how am I special though? I know lots of people, friends, relatives, who are going through the exact same thing. It's called life. Quite often it sucks. Sometimes you get driven off-road. Sometimes your car then breaks down off said off-road. And sometimes you then get struck by lightning while trying to change the tires. Life is hard. Having someone there for you, who knows just how much life sucks is what community is all about. I know it may sound a bit boastful, but I'd like to think that every time someone has needed me, even if they didn't know it, I've been there for them. I had a friend commit suicide when I was younger. It really hit me for six, and I've never felt a bigger sense of regret in my life. That thought I maybe could've done something. If only I'd said something. If only they knew I was there for them. Whenever someone is down, whether I know them well or not, I always tell them I'm there to listen. It's not just the big things though; I turn up to your parties, not just because I like you, but because I know how it hurts having no one turn up. I reply to your texts and say hello to you when I see you because I know how it feels to be ignored and unimportant.

That's how it should be. That's my idea of community. Helping each other. Wikipedia agrees with me (and I swear I didn't edit it just to prove my point haha). Not just when it suits you, but often when it doesn't suit you at all. Often however, I feel like I'm a community of one. Once upon a time, I used to go to church. I used to be in a tight-knit group of people who would meet up each week, quite often more frequently. You'd probably call it a community. Every birthday, I used to go out and buy a $20 gift for that person. Something they'd enjoy. I'd help out decorating cakes for them. Not for praise, but because I wanted to show them how much they meant to me. For my birthday, I had a family emergency. I was probably the lowest I've ever been in my life. I tried reaching out to the people I'd think would understand the most. For my birthday, I got told they were too busy. For my birthday, my community let me down. Someone I hardly knew on Facebook was the only person who showed they cared.

I wouldn't say I'm part of any particular community now. If I had to pick something, I'd say my friends were the closest thing I have to feeling that sense of community. And even then, I feel just as isolated at times as if I were alone. Now I'm not going to get into the debate of online interaction versus real life, human contact, but when you're feeling alone, Facebook and social media can be such a degrading experience. A community at your finger tips, and still, you're no closer to that sense of true belonging you desperately crave than ever. I've lost count of the number of times I've asked people if they want to catch up. To be a part of my community. I feel like a fisherman, sitting on a pier, with lines dangling over the edge. You see a little nibble, and you wind the line in, only to find the fish have eaten your bait, and you're still no closer to anything meaningful, and you begin to wonder why you even bother with such an empty pastime. Only, the fish don't know any better. They're just hungry. Friends on the other hand...

It's been so long since I've had any meaningful contact with most of my friends, that I've begun to become far more introverted and I wonder whether you can call them friends at all, outside of that little plus avatar symbol on Facebook. You see parties you're not invited to. Fun that was had without you. It's all another person. It's an updated account of isolation and a painful reminder of how far a community can actually be from its true definition.

Which brings me back to my belief that communities are those of convenience. When people need me, I'm there for them. I've stayed up until all hours helping people with their problems. Done things not at all in my interests. And yet whenever I turn around, to see who has my back, I see people asking how long it will take, or telling me this week isn't a good time. Or the next week. Or the next... I know others feel the same way. That's not community. That's a 'me' society. And that's why I honestly believe I've never been in a community in my life. As terrible as it sounds, the word means nothing to me. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I dislike the definition. It's a lie people tell themselves to shelter them from the cold truth that most of the people in your life aren't going to be there for you. To me it means isolation. Hurt. Being let down. No, I'd much rather stick to being a community of one. Where I help people, but I don't have that expectation I'm going to be cared for when I'm low, or that people will treat me as I treat them, or even at least return the affection I feel for them. It's hard writing down what a callous person I guess you could say I am in some respects, but 'community' is what it is, and I'm not mad or angry. I can't change it any more than I can change the weather. I can recycle and turn of lights to help reduce climate change, but in the end, I'm just one person and it's not up to me. But saying we're part of a community is false, when in my experiences, the people around me have acted far from what it truly is. Let's call it a biosphere and leave it at that.

And with that, I press the post button, much too glad I got all that out of my system. I can now delete the other several draft of this topic I have clogged up my blog list.

Burning a Hole in My Pocket

Ever feel the sting of a coin in your pocket as you walk through a street? You pass a busker, a homeless man, or more than a few sale signs. Like a kindred spirit, it yearns to be free. Sometimes you'll chuck it in any adjacent guitar case, but more often than not, it'll sit in your pocket. As you walk, it'll get heavier. The heavier it gets, the more excuses there are not to give it away; it may have become a lucky penny or destined for a function you'll never use it for. And there it will sit.

Blogging for me is like that coin. Being an extremely artistic person, who wears his heart on his sleeves made of open wounds and emotion, expressing myself comes very naturally to me, especially in the written form. I've always wanted to blog seriously - at one point I did to some small success, but they were from darker times in my life - but there has always been an excuse. I can feel the sting of needing to write down my thoughts, my fears, my words, but there has always been that fear factor residing in my mind, stopping me from doing anything more than a journal.

And then came along the Blog Roll. I watched it for several weeks, if not months - a group of friends blogging on topics and discussing their thoughts. My previous blog was anonymous. I enjoyed the free reign of being totally open with another being possibly sitting at their computer, reading and thinking about my troubles, knowing that someone out there heard my plea. Although a journal is great, there is something profound about blogging to an audience.

Over the years I've grown. Matured. I'm still in that process. It wasn't until just now that I decided to take the plunge and blog for real. No masks, just me and people who knew me. The risk is higher, but the reward too. I didn't come to the decision lightly. More than ever, I am aware that anything on the internet is public. Once it's out there, there's no taking it back. I'm at a point in my life where people know me. People from my career, my life, my friends. Not all people I expect to understand who I am or why I do. And there in lies the rub.

I, like most artists, work well when I'm emotionally attached to my work. Writing is just another form of that art. Writing relaxes me. Helps me work through my thoughts and understand myself better. It is an extremely personal and internal process. When you share yourself with another person, your emotions and fears and the reality of yourself, you are so very vulnerable. So you can imagine the surge of fear knowing that all this was being released like a torrent onto not anonymous readers, but possibly people I know. I nearly backed out of writing this. Like a coin I was attached to, I nearly shoved my hand back into my pocket and turned away. If I can't write from the heart, then it's not my writing; and yet that very passion is the thing which often gets me burnt. Not everyone sees the world with the same eyes - I'm not special in that regard - but in a way, it's time I liked it.

So here is the result. It may very well turn out that nothing more than bland posturing fills these pages, far from the suicidal and left wing ramblings you're probably expecting after reading all that (!), but at least I've taken the first step away from fear and towards a place where I am unabashed in expressing myself. The training wheels are off. If people do not like who I am, then they are not worth my time trying to convince them. I know who I am and am not ashamed. Expect to see my musings and thoughts on both the topics given by the Blog Roll, and on issues and events in my life. Maybe some of my work or anything I feel fits. However you won't see anything watered down. Edited and redacted in case someone I know might see it and disapprove. It wouldn't serve the purpose of my writing and I won't put you through that - I'd make for far too boring a read! People have always said one of my best traits is that I'm honest and they know where I stand. No masks, no lies. This blogger has seen far too many of those in his life and this is not a time to perpetuate them.

So let's go give that busker a coin. You don't need it any longer.