Hurting in the Age of Social Media

Emotional pain caused by people on a social level has probably been a constant factor to deal since society’s beginings. Friction in social groups is inevitable and usually results in some type of conflict and resolution. (anecdotal and observational evidence from my life and Animal Planet).

It’s at that stage of resolution that emotions run high. More than the end of a problem, it signals the beginning of something more; the beginning of closure. The beginning of healing. (Lovely read: https://www.google.co.uk/amp/thoughtcatalog.com/jamie-varon/2014/09/why-we-need-to-move-on-when-its-time-to-move-on/amp/)

This is where Social Media fucks it up.

We dont get closure in ways that we should when we’re too subscribed to SM.
In many ways we are all like celebrities, our lives on constant blast to an audience and when messy plot points arise you have to either try and erase evidence of the conflict (i.e. delete all the pictures with your friend/ex and unfollow them and their friends)or live in vague reminder that it happened (having mutual friends on SMPs so you see glimpses of their new lives, through the literal rose gold tinted glasses.)

And it can be painful to constantly reminded of things you need to time to process or would rather forget.
Which is what has happened to me recently. The evidence is all there and because of the highlighted nature of SM we’re not meant to openly talk about shit that goes down. So were kind of distanced from some of the people we need whilstt supposedly having the most access to them. It’s a damaging dichotomy.

Then to be bombarded with the idealized versions of everyone’s lives and perfection of advertise adds to any hurt/self loathing/general negativity.

My point:

Today, in any type if break up you’ve got to let yourself have time off the SM and just breathe. Sometimes you are tempted to release those screenshots and defend your
Have people take your side and expose the vilian… or maybe that’s just me….

Recovery comes in many forms for everyone. Let yourself regrow outside of the artificial light.

 

~~TM~~

An Eulogy

We are here today due to the untimely death of our goldfish Gigi Marco who passed peacefully during the early hours of Thursday 1st of June.

After living with us for just over a month he brought us great joy and love since his adoption.

The first and best fish we ever had, Gigi was named after the pet talking cat in ghibli’s The Cat Returns and Marco after the dude in Season 1 of Attack in Titans . Just like him he was a real soldier and his cause of death unknown.

A true member of the Mphoka Family he will be dearly missed for his shimmering orange and silver scales, the way he immediately swam up for food and the way he played with bubbles.

In this time of greif we must not forget the lessons he taught us about care, sensitivity and love.

He etched a goldlfish shaped spot in our hearts and he will be very deeply missed.

In the words of the famous fish, Dory I implore us all to “Keep Swimming”.

 


 

My first goldfish died. When we bought him at the fair, the day after I came home for my last holiday before finals in First Year it was very symbolic to me. It was about the bond my youngest sister and I had, doing something we weren’t technically allowed to do but doing it together out of cheekiness. About co-parenting in a way; learning how to care for something else and all

His life as his death was such a learning curve. He taught us so much by just being a fish. Genuine anxiety, joy and Care were daily requirements.

I kept it light because on one hand comedy alleviated any sorrow and on the other he was just a fish.

Death is so inevitable. When it is time it is time. I felt that where we can, let our attachment be attachment and our grief not be all poisoning. And let love and understanding create wisdom in us. It’s different with people we love I know but my main point being it’s equally about what happens after to the survivors as was the life of the deceased.

If gym?

R.I.P.

TM

 

Over-Documentation

I feel like I’m the only one from this generation  who finds it difficult to live in this world of over documentation. Constantly telling everyone in your life where you are, what you’re eating, how you’re feeling, who you’re with and generally trying to document all the little moments is not only draining and time consuming but especially dangerous to the human ability (arguable need) to just sit and be. To look at rain and let our thoughts drift.

It almost feels like you’re not supposed to not tell people what you’re doing. Which is so false. Because in reality we know no one cares about every detail yet we still post in hopes of what- validation? Envy?

Many of us subscribe to the “I post therefore I am” mindset. It can be addicting because we genuinely want to be better and show people how were doing but do so even when we’re not okay.

We also want constant entertainment. Our threshold for humour, political news and even motivation is so high- we need it to be short,straight to the point, presented in an exciting way.

It’s contrary to building discipline. resilience and long term motivation. Things we need to strive in the real world.

Social Media so voyeuristic at the very least. But to leave social media on all of its entirety is also anxiety ridden. Why? Fear of missing out? As being viewed as backward and caveman-ish? I think what we fear the most is when we turn off our screens and delete all our accounts, what’s left will be so disappointing and pitiful and we’ll finally have to face ourselves. See ourselves for what we truly are.

That fear has driven humanity to the extremes of war and now an endless digital distraction to cloud over the mirror for good.

LIFE UPDATE POST

I don’t know if I should even write this post seeing as I highlighy doubt there are regular readers/viewers to my vlog my blog. But that’s okay. I remembered that I don’t primarily write for other people. Sure, if my content makes people feel some type of way I am happy. But even in the absence of attention I would still like to express myself via words. And so I am.

BACK to the point. Why I’ve been AWOL? I’ve been lazy and scared.

LAZY:

This is harsh considering that I’ve just completed my first year of university experiencing, juggling and working through a lot. I’ve transformed so much and in the light of that I allowed things that I used to put a lot of effort in to take a back seat as I just experienced and let myself be young. Not to mention I was busy af. Then, since school blew over I’ve been at home being a lazy cat and trying to muster enough motivation to give my life some new shape and meaning.

That shits hard.

Hard for me because I’ve finally come to this crossroad in the child-to-adult transition where I finally admit and accept that I cannot become amazing at every single one of my hobbies and interests. Even when if I was working at “full capacity” as I have strived to in the past I wasn’t allowing myself the time to just absorb. And I learnt that I need that balance between high productivity and ‘floating’ time for my personal growth . So I’m going to have to let go of a few goals and things I thought I would eventually come back to in the summer. Maybe I’ll pick them up again in the future- who knows. But for now on my path I am giving myself p

SCARED

I didn’t know what to post up first. My ideas feel like clouds and whilst I’ve worked on some pretty substantial stuff over the past academic year, I’ve also catalogued lots of ideas I’m just no longer feeling and thus was in a kind of “MEH” about coming on here and sharing half baked ideas and writing.

Ambivalence towards a piece of your work is usually not a great feeling for me. Usually means I should just toss it but I’m too afraid of losing. In a way. But I am facing tem fears as of now and will forge on to write.

SO the point?

The point is I’m going to start posting as regularly as possible. I want my writing to improve. I want people to read my stuff and follow my life in a more personal and intimate way (if you want to. Not as voyeuristic as Social Media).

In many ways it scares me because I know that out of all my SM presence, this is as personal and vulnerable as I get. But it’s also exciting. I can’t wait to document and take you with me on my life’s journey.

.PEACE.

~~TM~~

Is this what dreams are made of?

It’s one of those night. When I feel like being a poet, a writer. My thoughts hang heavy ready to aggregate and precipitate into palpable ideas, beautiful sharp objects. Maybe to pierce. Maybe just to behold

 

Courage. In a world that profits and is built on our insecurity and self-doubt it takes courage to strive for what you want. It takes courage to say you don’t want something too. Courage to decide to live the way that’s best for you and courage not to have to defend yourself at every turn.

 

Me? I don’t know if I’ll have the courage, wisdom or ability to do what I want to do. Most of what I want to do. But it takes a daily kind of courage to keep going despite increasingly great uncertainty. And courage to wait with good heart and patience.

 

I want to be a Doctor. To be skilled and knowledgeable about the human body to not only save and enhance lives but inspire and touch real peoples’ lives through the care and treatment I give. I want to stand between a person and the veil of death. At least try.

But maybe I won’t.

I want to be a writer. To add my 2 cents to the literary world. It is the writers, the poets and artists that truly capture what life is like in a time and place. They keep the giritty beauty or life burning by capturing, preserving and sharing it. And they are so underrecognised. I want to write about my experiences in hope that it will touch someone like me somewhere some place to be something completely new and unique.

But maybe I won’t.

I want to love a Man who loves me as a hurricane. I want to travel the world and understand people and cultures. I want to learn from all sources of life- books, nature, movies, history, people, music and of course experience. I want to build a home to go back to and stability for my parents and sisters.

But maybe I wont. Because I’m an Icarus, dazzled by the ephemeral sun, too excited about the prospect to realise that inside I am burning myself to a crisp with my own dreams.

But until that happens, I’ll try and keep that in mind but dare to believe that I will achieve it.

Am I an Icarus?

You’ve married an Icarus and he’s flown too close to the sun

 

I relate to people/characters like Hamilton (insert other examples when I remember them)  so much is because (not despite) of their disadvantage they  are spurred to greatness. Their live ooze productivity seemingly conjuring up opportunities from no where. Of course we acknowledge that  their climb to success is due to their insane work ethic as well as a bit of talent. But rarely do we really understand  what their struggle meant. The indecisiveness, exhaustion, burnouts, ruined relationships and psychological complexes that stem from gigantic  dreams and the dangerous determination to achieve them.
Being a polymath is a double edged sword.
 I relate in that drive. An acute awareness and inner push that they can and should be doing so much more with their time. The nagging idea at the back of your mind that “history has it’s eyes on you.” I don’t know what or when but it does feel like I’m constantly running towards the end of something. Training and preparing for some event of experience in the future.
Doubt however is an eternal weed in this garden. Ironically, successful people who have already done so much struggle with doubt that they may not be able to achieve everything else they dream of. What if I’m being an Icarus here and trying to spin too many plates – taking a bigger bite than I can chew. Should you size down? Could I even live with that? Hopefully it doesn’t become something I regret; not going 100% but again if I fall into the sea because I wanted too much could I ever comeback from that?
Despite seemingly a bit abstract and too philosophical for daily pondering, it is a tangible fear we wrestle with. One that could threaten the very fabric of who you are but nevertheless a subject to tackle with for the rest of your life.
To people on the outside it’s either insane or inspirational. It is both.
On the inside it is a universe  of chaos that just makes sense.

The End of Childhood

Childhood is such an interesting time for us all- many of us ruminate over many things from our childhood yet say very little about our theories and possible psychological complexities that come from childhood memories. I think it’s interesting that in many ways we build our lives as pyramids with the simplicity and broad range of experiences from our childhood being the base. Alternatively, the path of our lives can be seen as a spiral, with our childhood being in the centre, our core of development and base nature, everything we do in life surrounds and parallels it but gets further and further away.

Firstly what charcaterises childhood? Dwelling upon this question I came to the conclusion that the childhood innocence thus childhood is about trusting completely in another in a very unknowing and pure state-it’s a love before words or any real understanding. It’s the time period at which you’re cursious about everything yet satisfied with the answers given to you and want for nothing?

Childhood for humans is a state of being that wears off and fades sometimes with time other times with experience. Nonetheless I still tend to say my childhood ended when my sisters and my mother left Lansing, Michigan for Johannesburg South Africa on the 21st of December 2007.

At first I stil retained the innocence and trust that characterises children but as time went on that year, I began to see things for what they really were and it broke my heart that I could no longer pretend. One of the biggest lessons I learnt that really ended my childhood was the fact that my Parents did not have all the answers and lied. I guess it never occurred to child me that my parents would lie and stretch the truth and when I realosed this my mind began down that road of uncertain questioning that inevitably leads to gorwing up of the mind. It hurt child-me to know that just because they promised it didn’t mean that it would happen. They promised we’d go back to America, that we’d get American Girl Dolls and 600$ for accessories, that South Africa would be an adventure. And as promise by promise was broken I relaised that even the best laid plans can go to ruin. That you ultimately only ever have the present. Hold on to your memories but not too tight.

Currently, the lesson I struggle with the most is letting go of beautiful things to allow even better things to come into your life. Being in a zen state even knowing certain doors may never be open again.