Cynicism

There are some days where I wonder if I am far too cynical for my age.

Those days are becoming less and less frequent lately.  I've become comfortable in my cynicism and my distrust of humanity and of those in power and of society in general.

Yes, this reaction is partially a result of the grand jury decision in Ferguson (which was bullshit and completely predictable when the prosecutor began his little speech basically by blaming social media for "rumours" and all that nonsense).  As a white woman, I will never understand the true pain of this injustice, but it does fuel my cynicism.

Once upon a time, I had hope.  I really did.  I had hope in people, that most of them were as good as my parents, and could love as much as they do.  I had hope in laws, that they would be interpreted and enforced justly.  I had hope in the government, that those in power would do what they could to help their nation's citizens achieve health and happiness.  I had hope in love, and in humanity, and in the idea that bad realities could be changed.

That hope has basically vanished.  It is sad, really.  I am only 24, and yet everything seems so hopeless and bleak and dark, and right now only my family and my pup and some of my friends (not even all of them...how sad is that?) can bring me even a memory of times when I did not feel like nothing would ever get better.

My area of study brings me to the darkest corners of humanity, so it is no surprise really that the hope I once had in the government to positively change things has vanished.  I find reasons for why politicians act the way they do, why corruption seems to be a rational response to some circumstances, why we often see immoral decisions and injustice from government and law enforcement...  People who mock my study do not realize how morally taxing it could be.  You learn slowly that voting doesn't really matter, that even mass mobilization rarely brings about change, that politicians only ever want to please their narrow constituencies, that anti-intellectualism and anti-science positions can make sense from an office-seeking standpoint, and more.  I don't know why I remain in such a demoralizing field; it is fascinating, I guess, in a way.  Or maybe it is because I don't know what else I can do.

Then of course, my nonprofessional life has just made me lose hope in humanity and love.  Growing up with my parents, I guess I naively believed that most people were like they are.  Kind, loving...they make mistakes but they (usually) acknowledge them...they are strong in their convictions and try their best and try to be fair.

And when I fell in love, I guess I assumed that whoever I fell in love with would be like them.  And because of that, I was blind to the reality.  He wasn't as good as I originally thought he was.  He did not care as much as I thought he did.  Perhaps he never really loved me, I don't know.  I still think about these things even though it hurts.  Overall, I try not to admit to myself about the fact that I still sometimes do miss him.  (Hell, there was recently where someone walked by me and he smelled like the ex, and I had to leave because it freaked me out a little.)  Despite my recognition of how manipulative he was and how quickly he moved on from me and how much happier he was after me...I sometimes miss the fucking bastard.  I don't want to.  There is no reason to.  I am like a sad little girl who can't fucking let go of things.  It makes me angry.  It makes me hate myself more and more and despite people telling me that it is human to feel such things, I don't want to.  It hurts.  It hurts that he has been so fucking happy and found love again many more times and has a girlfriend who is probably fucking awesome and all that.  It hurts.  I don't want it to.  I tell myself that it no longer is about him, it's the idea of him and the loss of the feeling and all that.  And maybe, sometimes, that is true.  But there are other times where I tell myself that and it is not exactly accurate.

And now I tell myself that I should never have fallen in love.

And that makes me sad, because it was a wonderful feeling.  For a long time, it was.

The hope I felt in other things too, was wonderful.

But it was all nonsense, in the end, I suppose.


Bah.  I don't know.  Maybe another time when I'm not so disgusted in everything I'll feel slightly differently