Too Many Narratives

The consumption of films, books, music, and all other forms of media has made man an expert in narrative. The idea of a hero, a central character, of a beginning, middle, and end is deeply embedded in everyone's daily life. This hero is someone who lives through a drama, a victory, or just an interesting life, someone whose story is worth telling. Slowly, this hero enters our daily life through our own personification. The common man becomes the hero. Everyone can be (or rather, everyone wants to be) the focal point from which a story is told. An unrealistic idea in a world with so many people.

After all, if everyone is spectacular, no one is spectacular. This statement, for example, is somewhat scandalous if said casually today. But deep down, there is nothing wrong with it, unless we look at it through contemporary eyes that do not accept normalcy as a way of life. Normalcy is simply a lack of talent...

We have two paths: to experience our life autobiographically, or to choose an absolute, destinations of ourselves. Are we just an eye, or are we The Eye?

Manifestly, I see myself more as an eye, one among many eyes. Yet everyone around me tells me I seem like The Eye. Indirectly speaking, through films, music, ambitions, advertisements... We all want to be the main subject of the narrative; everything that happens is supposed to happen. The present and future of the past, the general idea of today.

The written proof of this manuscript is contradictory because it is a self-affirmation of the "I" as a thinking being. But I write because one day someone might read it (someone deceived by my wisdom). And with that, I gain more financial comfort if I sell my writings. It's impressive how the ink flows on the paper in this jazz bar. More and more material for my pile of crap, my lordly Pile. From now on, I will become a regular customer, the pedantic customer of Sunday nights. Today I can't help it; the jazz is so sensual. I am a frenetic melancholic movement that stimulates so much, but really so much rapid writing.

It's over, the concert is over... the grand hallucination of hip movements is over... just as life ends. Everything is but a traumatic, hallucinatory experience. But wait, trauma implies memory, implies comparison with the normal course of things. Therefore, we discard the idea of trauma, or we separate life from an absolute to which it resembles. A complicated task.

If we discard the idea of trauma, then there is no good or bad definition of the act of living, there is no external comparison because life is everything... yet we still have the notion of being something... a paradoxical notion, or a notion for which we are incomplete. The notion of incompleteness is familiar to us, for animals are inferior to us in the realm of understanding (are they really??). On the other hand, if we consider life as a great trauma, it implies the notion of transformation. We were something—we lived (something not strictly tied to the act of existing)—and we died traumatized. It's a rather strong definition that can only be passed off as everyday truth with the humor of W. Allen.