Monday, 6 February 2012

The Loneliness of the Long Distance Shit Muncher



This morning was spent in a haze of procrastination under the guise of “research”, and during my “research” I came across the above article. This kind of thing always catches my attention but probably not for the reasons the writer intends. I regard them as an invitation to partake in the increasingly popular sport of shit munching. The article really reads, 

"Dear Plebs, please come munch our shit. It is nutritious and will aid your neuroses in ways that don't seem much at the time, we're just frivolous fun after all, but will nevertheless try to get under your skin and make you question yourselves, just like all the other ridiculous shit that you get bombarded with every day but means jack all. Thank you for your time. Now please fuck off and feel bad about yourselves." 

It's a genre of article that is designed to fuck our shit up. Mcshizzles like Cosmopolitan do it all the time. "Better sex", "Why doesn't he want you?" "How to make him want you!” "Even better sex!" - a thinly veiled didactic pissantry that in reality serves only to confuse and undermine.

I think I can consider consider myself as being in a successful (certainly so far) long term relationship (getting on for 20 years *choke splutter*) but that qualifies me for nothing. Good for us and all that - I genuinely believe that committing to anything, not just in respect to love and companionship, should be celebrated (and that includes committing yourself to cutting your losses; those decisions are almost invariably hard as fuck) - but mine is not a template for anyone else's relationship. 

In a world of increasing homogeneity *shudder* this kind of article comes thick and fast. While we're told that the family unit has changed/is changing and that it's okay to be on our own or whatever, we're also slammed with these proclamations about the holy grail of long term security and love. As though anyone really has a clue. People can lecture you all they like about how they "make it work", but I'd be willing to bet good money they're making that shit up. Truth is, in our case, the only thing I really know is that we stick together. We don't give up when it's hard, we don't walk away and wander around in that greener grass over there. Not because we stand before a jury of our peers and declare ourselves to be committed to working things through, noble soliloquy from the male lead and all, but because the thought of not being together sucks ass. Simples, as they say.

So much energy is wasted in making judgements about other people's relationships, whether that's from a negative “it’ll never work” or a positive “what’s their secret” perspective. Futile rubbish. You can’t really explain why one person falls for another – common interests and lust are all very well, but that mysterious kick-in-the-gut spark is usually what seals the deal. You can't share secrets about "how to make it work" because the variables are never the same. Even if all men were uncommunicative ballbags and women uptight harridans, the variations on these stereotypes would still be in their millions, making any rule, or set thereof, redundant.

Yes, be nice to each other - if you care deeply about one another, why would you not be? Yes, talk to each other - again, caring deeply = worth the effort. But all that other horseshit in the article? Pinch of salt. It probably doesn't apply to you. It doesn't to us. Secrets? I can't lie to Mr Y to save my life, I'm brutally honest and open, and it works. Sit down and make a fucking road map for the future? What for? We usually can't plan much past next week ... but, then again, if that's what floats your boat, why should you not? Get your cartography on!

The thing is, none of us know much about any of this carnival of fools. We have little to no idea why some relationships work and why others don't. We're all flying by the seat of our clich├ęd pants and articles like these are fillers, not pointers. Don't waste your time worrying about what you're supposed to do, and get on with the loving and the living. Or working, or helping, or painting, or skiiing, or whatever the fuck you like. You’re the only one who can feel what’s right for you at the time. It's your life, whether you live with someone (or someones) else or alone. Your choice. Your rules … actually, fuck rules. Rules suck.

1 comment:

  1. I love that. It rings true, what you said, about all that other stuff being bullshit. It's just that not being together sucks so the rest of it just has to come together.

    Yeah, fuck rules. xoxo

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