UTOPIA 2016: A Year of Imagination and Possibility...
UTOPIA 2016: A Year of Imagination and Possibility…
There are a number of interesting talks starting in London in September 2016, including:
1.) The Guardian, Utopia, and Transhumanism – Thurs 25th August
Guardian Live are holding an event at London’s Somerset House on the evening of Thursday 25th August, with the intriguing title UTOPIA 2016: Transhumanism and the future of ‘you’. The main speaker is long-time friend of London Futurists, Anders…
Her hair was brilliant fire in the wind, her eyes cold as ice. She looked like a superhero in her midnight cloak with the snow whipping around her in a blizzard. When she looked at him, it was as though his very soul was freezing over-not from fear, but intimidation and respect.
Her stoic face was a mask. Behind it, she had no idea what she was doing. She could only hope that he didn’t notice the hint of uneasiness in her eyes, the way she nervously fidgeted with her ornate jacket just a little bit more than usual. She had always been good at pretending. That was how they had gotten this far, after all.
He didn’t see her anxious tendencies nor did he have any suspicions that she was anything less than completely confident. In fact, he couldn’t see much of anything. A thick white blanket of snow completely clouded his vision.
They had been traveling for days. Weeks, maybe. It was hard to keep track of the time when the sun never set. All the days blended together into one long arctic adventure that at first was daring and spontaneous, but now was just debilitating. His feet ached. She longed for a bed that wasn’t made of frozen slush.
A typical meal of barely thawed berries and stale bread was only ending when she saw them over in the distance. Their charcoal steeds were majestic yet menacing, the men on their backs aristocratic yet alarming. No words needed to be said; the only thing to do was run.
An elusive path through the forest also contained significant risks. Fallen tree trunks seemed to materialize out of no where while branches snatched at their faces stealing skin and leaving bloody gashes. Her heart was racing and his feet no longer ached in the adrenaline rush. Their bodies moved as though they were performing an elaborate dance, gracefully stepping around obstacles and twirling past thick boughs. She missed a step.
In slow motion, he watched from behind, horrified as she tumbled. Her pale body lay crumbled like a rag doll, her flames a halo around her fragile head. It was wrong to see her this way; vulnerable. She wasn’t supposed to be broken, she was supposed to be strong and hold him together when all he wanted to do was fall apart.
Breath was absent from her lips. Her heart was silent beneath her ivory dress that made her look like a fallen angel against the glimmer of the snow. He knew it was too late for her. He could hear the stallions and their passengers approaching. He had to keep going. He brushed a lone lock of light off of her forehand and started running without looking back.
This summer, I went to volunteer at a hospital in my town. Usually, I worked with transport, helping move people around and delivering flowers. Easy stuff. That week, they were having a summer camp for kids whose parents couldn't watch them while they were at work. Me being in the mood to do some extra kind deeds, I volunteered. It was just some kids, right? How hard could it be? Let's just say, it was a little different than I thought.
These kids were insane. I mean, bouncing-off-the-walls won't-listen-to-a-word-you-say kind of insane. They fought with each other, they fought with the supervisor, and of course, they fought with me. Some of them were good, sure, but there were a few that were just jerks. But I let it go. It was only one day.
Things are going fine and the kids are playing when one of the girls comes up to me. I can't even remember what I was doing. All I remember is what she said.
"Did you know that you aren't pretty?" she asked me, with the most disgustingly innocent expression.
I didn't even know how to respond. What do you say to something like that? I couldn't be mean to her. She was a little kid. So I just spat out a sarcastic "thanks".
"Why did you say thanks if you aren't beautiful?" she went on. I didn't answer this time.
I was hurt. She was just a child, she probably didn't know what she was saying. I know. But it always hurts to be told you aren't pretty. It doesn't matter who says it.
I used to think about it all the time and think "wow, even kids think I'm ugly, let's add this onto the list of reasons why life sucks". But I don't think about it like that anymore. It still makes me sad, but for a different reason. It saddens me to see how society is polluting these little girls minds. It saddens me that she felt the need to say that, that she probably thinks beauty is only skin deep. It saddens me that she probably doesn't think she's beautiful either.
I used to watch those "what guys look for in a girl" videos all the time, and think about at the things I needed to change about myself. I needed to be more outgoing, even though I'm naturally shy. I needed to have no acne and no body hair and I needed to be shorter. I needed to dye my hair and grow it out long. Then all the boys would like me, right?
Everyone has these horrible ideas of what everyone should be. And yes, I know, it's been over-preached and you've heard it all before but it still hasn't changed. We still look at people like objects. Guys still think girls should have perfect skin, hair, and bodies. Girls still think that guys should be buff, tall, and have equally perfect bodies. That's right, it's not just the girls. No one should have to conform to someone else's close-minded ideals, half of which aren't even realistic anyway. As long as what they're doing isn't hurting anyone else, what does it have to do with you? Does the fact that I don't shave my arms (and I mean arms, not armpits) harm you grievously in some way? Does a guy's decision to not spend every waking moment at the gym to impress you send a stabbing pain to your heart? Because it really shouldn't.
Something needs to change, because I've been told I'm unattractive more times than beautiful. And even if the opposite is true, the hurtful ones are the ones you remember.
Everyone is beautiful, you just have to be willing to see it.
There is a time in every person's life where they wish to become famous. For some people, it is a life long ambition. For me, it was a short phase of naivety. I never really wanted to act, or sing, or anything like that. All I wanted was for people to think I was important, to hear what I had to say or even just look at me and think "man, she's someone special". But I was never meant to be that person.
I was meant to be a filler, a person in the background while the light was on others. A member of the chorus, an extra in a movie, the character on the TV show that everyone liked but no one really cared about. And it was weird, but I was strangely okay with it. I didn't want to be the main character. I didn't want my name to live on the pages of a history textbook. I wanted to live on in the people who knew me and loved me, who saw who I was and admired me for that rather than millions of people who thought they did. I wasn't looking for a widespread legacy. I was looking for a memory, something meaningful, that proved I was here and that I mattered. Because that's all we really want, isn't it? Just to matter.
---
I have this obsession with what I'm going to do in the future. Where I'm going to go to university, what profession I'm going to end up in, even where I'm going to live. I don't know why I care so much, but I can't stop myself from thinking about it. Even if I tell myself I still have time, I feel like I don't. I feel like I have to figure it all out right now. I envy those kids that know exactly what they want to be. How are they so sure of themselves? What do they even think about when they're up late at night?
I think I have this fear that I won't amount to anything, that I'll just end up at some dead end job that I hate, working with people I hate, living a life I hate. It's been drilled into our heads since day one that by senior year we have to know exactly what we're doing, or else we're a mess. And I know everyone always talks about how stupid is, but that doesn't change anything.
Sometimes I wish I didn't have to think about it anymore; that I could sit somewhere, doing something that made me happy, and just be.
This year, as my New Year's resolution, I have decided to write something every day after being inspired by this post. Since I'm sure not all of you want me clogging up your feed with my writing and other stuff, I have decided to create a new blog where I will post all of these writings and probably some other stuff too. So please go follow it!
Also, thanks for following this blog! I love you all.
