Bad Faith
It's easy to pretend that there's nothing.
Oh, there's nothing. Nothing. Nothing between us. At all.
Most of us are adept at it. Sartre would call it bad faith - this act of fleeing. Denying any possibility of a something.
Look, he is holding my hand - it's been more than 10 seconds -well he's telling a story, perhaps he's just being open and friendly and holding my hand serves no greater purpose than animating the plot (which is of course, never about us).
Oh, she's asking me out. Wait, we are living in contemporary times - which means it's okay to ask me, a male out, without meaning to suggest anything. Which means, damnit, I can't tell if she's into me at all. Oh well, just hang out, lor.
He's asking me out again. But he's not saying anything beyond that. It's okay. We are only good friends, solely and entirely platonic. We are safe. We don't speculate crazily. Perhaps we did and now we have gone beyond. Way cool. We can hang out like crazy and I think it means nothing more. To be honest, it can drive me crazy sometimes, still.
I suspect it's getting so much harder to get an official companion if you are decent, educated and intelligent, because you are so, so aware of how warped social rules are and can be. They are currently at the stage at which any signs of interest can be neutered and neutralised. Anything goes. Everything can mean nothing. Thanks to prevalence of irony, gender equality, parody and deconstruction (RIP, Derrida) and what other academic rubbish that ruin what little romanticism wafting in the air. Messy. You just can't trust your instincts and self-help books anymore. It's like what I love to expound on during Dr Ang's 19th century literature classes of crime and detection. You can't be sure at all if the clues are red herrings and vice versa. Always a risk. To analyse is actually pretty useless. Just throw yourself into it if you dare. Odds wise, it really wouldn't make a world of difference.
Still. All these only serve to paralyse one into ridiculous passivity. The lady dismisses as nothing and the gentleman shrugs it off and they continue being together without attaching importance to the intimacy because each are convinced that it's just a platonic hanging out, surely the other knows. Yes, I'm sure the other knows. I'm merely suggesting the daring thought of meaning something more to the same party has crossed and it conceals itself, because of the belief it can never be, and all the signs that point to it are just coincedental or due to the exceptional wonderful personalities concerned. In short, bad faith.
TBC
Oh, there's nothing. Nothing. Nothing between us. At all.
Most of us are adept at it. Sartre would call it bad faith - this act of fleeing. Denying any possibility of a something.
Look, he is holding my hand - it's been more than 10 seconds -well he's telling a story, perhaps he's just being open and friendly and holding my hand serves no greater purpose than animating the plot (which is of course, never about us).
Oh, she's asking me out. Wait, we are living in contemporary times - which means it's okay to ask me, a male out, without meaning to suggest anything. Which means, damnit, I can't tell if she's into me at all. Oh well, just hang out, lor.
He's asking me out again. But he's not saying anything beyond that. It's okay. We are only good friends, solely and entirely platonic. We are safe. We don't speculate crazily. Perhaps we did and now we have gone beyond. Way cool. We can hang out like crazy and I think it means nothing more. To be honest, it can drive me crazy sometimes, still.
I suspect it's getting so much harder to get an official companion if you are decent, educated and intelligent, because you are so, so aware of how warped social rules are and can be. They are currently at the stage at which any signs of interest can be neutered and neutralised. Anything goes. Everything can mean nothing. Thanks to prevalence of irony, gender equality, parody and deconstruction (RIP, Derrida) and what other academic rubbish that ruin what little romanticism wafting in the air. Messy. You just can't trust your instincts and self-help books anymore. It's like what I love to expound on during Dr Ang's 19th century literature classes of crime and detection. You can't be sure at all if the clues are red herrings and vice versa. Always a risk. To analyse is actually pretty useless. Just throw yourself into it if you dare. Odds wise, it really wouldn't make a world of difference.
Still. All these only serve to paralyse one into ridiculous passivity. The lady dismisses as nothing and the gentleman shrugs it off and they continue being together without attaching importance to the intimacy because each are convinced that it's just a platonic hanging out, surely the other knows. Yes, I'm sure the other knows. I'm merely suggesting the daring thought of meaning something more to the same party has crossed and it conceals itself, because of the belief it can never be, and all the signs that point to it are just coincedental or due to the exceptional wonderful personalities concerned. In short, bad faith.
TBC
3 Comments:
Ugh. Situations like these just piss me off so much.
But they are everywhere and happening all the time!!
how does one tell - how does know know - how does one figure anything out at all in this turning of tables that have been turned, demolished, rebuilt and turned somemore - can we re-turn to a simple reading that actually mean something??
Argh. Why can't people just sleep with each other and be done with all this? Life would be so much easier...
"Wanna fuck?"
"Hell yeah" or "No way"
Done. Problem solved.
Paiseh if my thinking is a little screwy. Working till 11pm does that to me.
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