Pop a Joy

 

We all heard this one before. In the beginning, there was darkness and then, there was light. God and everyone were together and happy. Lucifer's vanity led him to refuse to kneel to Adam. He was banished and shunned. Adam and Eve were happy until they sought the forbidden fruit. Afterwards, they were banished as well. I often wonder what would've happened if they were rehabilitated and spoken to softly instead of getting shunned by their father. Maybe they would've appreciated mercy instead of punishment and legitimately changed and rehabilitated?

We all want to gaze behind the veil. It is in our innate to satisfy our curiosity towards the unknown. But what if it goes against our expectations? What if the truth is too much to say and bear? I view truth as people treat homelessness; walk down the street and ignore their existence. It's easier than looking them in the eye and saying no. After all, who wants to spend their cash helping someone else? That sounds OUTRAGEOUS! 

The truth is that we live in desperate times. I remember going with my father and Two uncles to Al Mutanabi street. As we entered the aged and beaten streets. I couldn't help but notice the amounts of books. To portray a perfect example, it's like a Bazar. I remember having a peach canned juice in my hand. As we further strode down the street, a homeless man approached us. I had just finished the juice but the man was demanding my can. It was empty but I distinctly remember my uncle saying "it used to be that we robbed them but now, they rob us". As cruel as that may have sounded, I'd rather explain our act of robbery as a robbery of decency. We've robbed them out of their lives and decency by neglecting them and accepting their state. Another similar situation occured to me where a homeless child approached my friend and demanded money. Afterwards, he just pointed out that his dad is "standing by" if we don't pay. Sounds familiar? Maybe because my uncle might have been right all along. 

This is the world we live in. You can't even help the poor directly anymore because they might be pretending to be poor. Instead, you have to be satisfied with giving through NGOs which probably give their CEO a bonus that can be worth someone's 7 years of salary. Let's not forget the T-shirt printing as that costs too...I wish heaven would hold my hand because no one else would. I think that's what Lucifer, and Adam and Eve thought. Rehabilitation is a powerful thing.

When I used to have braces, I loved meeting my orthodontist. He's an exceptional human being; he gave discounts to widows and even flexible session plans. 50% discounts to anyone fighting in the war against ISIS and more. He told me that he knew I was special the moment I walked through the door. My vintage leather messenger bag, my geeky glasses, my hardcopy books which I occasionally read, and my eccentric Arabic which came as a result of a lack of a social life. He looked at my mom as he was tightening m braces and told her to "make sure that I don't live in Iraq. It'll be a waste of my life" apparently. That came as a sign to me; I was struggling with my once familiar love of my country. I realized that the type of person I am, my professional goals, and the type of life I'd wish to lead, it just doesn't seem possible. He spouted the word "utopia". He said I will never find wherever I go. He then spoke to my mom about Plato's "the republic". It's an interesting book I planned to read but never got to it. It revolves around Plato committing an experiment which involves taking kids from their mothers and raising them in an environment clear of acts such as "murder, lie, and betrayal". Apparently, that was considered Utopia. 

Nowadays, Utopia is living in a big empty house with extravagance. Having a lot of stocks and a Swiss bank account. 

Utopia is a way of life, so who's buying in?

Sometimes, a kiss of history is all it takes to remember the things we sought so hard to forget. Suddenly, we remember clearly as day. So we start running the opposite way towards a healthy denial looking to pretend it never happened. The truth is, it has happened and we have to move on.

What happens to all of us when routine takes over? When our innocent excitement turns into a worry of the item being up to par with our standards? That and the "what if shipping gets messed up?" What happens when we're no longer happy and Neverland is no longer in sight? Instead, Neverland becomes an office with a lot of glass. It becomes a high salary enough for us to live independently and decently. We "grow up" or at least, that's what they tell me. I wish I was eligible to go to Neverland if it existed, but would I be allowed to with my passport being the worst in the world? Would people like me get accepted there? With all the brutality and violence we've seen, we grew up from a young age as a result of "captain Hook" like-minded individuals. Neverland became like modern day Palestine; it became a place which has been morphed into something else entirely. Instead of focusing on fun and "never growing up," Neverland became a place where our goals are to scrape enough money to afford everything until the end of the month. Passion is non existent in this place anymore. We willingly trade Neverland for weeks where our most anticipated days are two days a week where we're too tired to do anything. Everyday becomes like Sunday. Just a silent and grey day.

We all love to talk to good looking individuals. We all seek beauty. But what happens when the exterior is better than the interior? What happens when our image of the well-dressed suave man turns out to be wrong? After all, a guy isn't a perfect candidate if he can't serenade or commit wordplay to his fellow companion. We might not want to look behind the veil for our image of the individual might be ruined. Therefore, we just swipe right based on looks. Who looks at Tinder's bios after all, right? 

This is quite wrong actually. There are so many things wrong with modern day perceptions of relationships. I used to be like you; I used to see women and just be thunderstruck by their beauty. As a what is perceived by the women I've dated, I'm apparently a good-looking individual. However, I never thought about what lay inside those bodies of plastic. I should've thought about this sooner but it worked against my favor. My dates went quite well. They actually asked for the second dates to be in my house or near my house. I never showed how I despised this, since it's our first date and you shouldn't prioritize bodily instincts over personality but instead, examine them from personality and compatibility perspective so you'd at least know that they would still be there everyday when you wake up. Those first dates would prove to be my last with those ladies.

 Instead, I see people trying their best at portraying themselves as whatever "hip" or "lit" trend there is in a desperate attempt to conform. How many more pineapple on pizza bios am I gonna see FFS?

Can we manage to genuinely convey ourselves to the potential other with the presence of social influence, perception, and what's "trending"? Can we instead write "hi, my name is Mark. I like this band or doing that". Or " Hi, my name is Alicia" without showing cleavage or seductive photos since that's all that matters now apparently. Sexualizing one's self to gain acceptance from strangers which only one might be "the one". Can we stop looking at each other like plastic mannequins? But as people with a unique personality, experience, and preferences. It's all so plastic and influence driven.

When I was a teenager, I loved a game called "Beyond Two souls". The game genuinely revolves around twins. One died during birth so that entity is inhibiting his sister's body but can't communicate. I've always perceived myself going outside my house as one entity and another indoors. It's a fact that we always feel most comfortable in our habitats. We needn't worry about putting our elbows or the table or just spread our legs on the table and position ourselves on our couches in a semi-sleepy position. No one's there to watch.

Another memorable media experience I remember is a movie called "the room". It revolves around a teenager who's kidnapped and placed inside a room for quite a number of years. During those years, she bore a child. Due to the child being trapped in a room too, his communication skills were nill to slim. When he escaped along with his mother, he couldn't conform with everyone. He's known only one person as a child. 

I would describe my life as being mostly characterized by a severe isolation; I've always been inside my room listening to music, reading a book, or playing videogames. The reasoning behind this self-imposed isolation can be traced back to the circumstances I grew up in which was mostly plagued by war and bad economical and security circumstances. My mom bought me an Atari at a very young age so I could stay home. When it got better, I was 15. Trying to socialize with people was an excruciating difficulty where I appeared odd, inappropriate, or insulting. I eventually nailed the communication part and could communicate quite effectively. However, I could describe who I am today as the result of a closed room where my friends came in the form of stories and messages. Videogames are such an overlooked literary median where so much creativity occurs in storytelling. My PlayStations were always my friends.

My final reference of digital media is related to "We Happy Few". It's a game I've been playing recently. It revolves around a utilitarian dystopian post WW2 society called Wellington Wells. In Wellington Wells, citizens are expected to take a pill called "Joy". Joy will make you smile, strut about, forget about all pain and memories, and have a mandatory chemically-induces grin. It also makes everything look so colorful and happy. 

That is, until you stop taking your Joy. Then you become a "downer". Everything looks like it really is: Dipilitated buildings, blood, and even dead rats in the street. 

In Wellington Wells, one should conform. You're not allowed to run, jump, be rude, or wear battered clothing. Outside, with all the downers, it's the complete opposite. 

All it takes is one bad day. That day is the worst because we see the truth which was around us all along. The "joy" pill suddenly stops working. We get kissed by history and it just hurts. Suddenly, we remember our concerns and wounds. 

I'm scared. I've done nothing wrong but I see them calling me. I see them run. They're smiling. They're laughing. They're on Joy.

Suddenly, I wonder who is more mad? Me or them? Them or me?

They hold me down. "When life annoys, pop a Joy" they say.

Suddenly, I'm happy.