Words are powerful. It is incredible how one simple sentence can grip you, take hold of you, and run through your head at random moments in time.
I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment
This line is from the final novel in my all time favorite trilogy. “I am a jumble of passions misgivings, and wants.” Libba Bray is a genius. It runs through my head as I see the next Buzzfeed “10 signs that you are a basic bitch” article. What defines a woman as basic? So I may have watched the movie Love, Actually for the first time this Christmas and fell madly in love with Hugh Grant. Basic. I enjoy taking pictures of the beautiful seasons of Vermont, and drinking cider in the fall and hot chocolate in the winter. Basic.
But really I’m just a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants.
I am in a society where wearing printed leggings and instagramming and swiping right on Tinder and filtering my photos while hashtagging them #nofilter is the #notbasic so basic thing to do. But I can’t wear printed leggings because I am:
1. aware that I have a pear shaped body where my posterior will be the first thing you see and not everyone wants to see that unless you are Kim Kardashian
2. classy and want to leave something to the imagination and
3. tasteful in style, and printed leggings belong in the 80’s ladies
And I don’t have an instagram or Twitter because maybe I can actually go out to dinner and enjoy my meal without taking a picture of it or tweeting about the awful service.
But this is one of my many misgivings. Judgement. I see my generation wasting away in screens unable to really converse about things they didn’t just see online and I cannot deny that I too scroll the Facebook 2-3 times a day, and have gotten addicted to the new fad Trivia Crack. Therein lies Hypocrisy. I don’t filter my pictures, but I do stare in the mirror and wonder what happened in the two years after I graduated college at a skinny 120 lbs and now here I am in my recently overly expensive dry cleaned pants with only one button buttoned and 140 lbs seems to be too much on my small 5’2″ pear shaped body. I am a jumble of passions misgivings and wants.
I want to have an intellectual conversation about literature and art and politics, but my generation hates politics and doesn’t vote because it doesn’t really matter and if they do vote it’s because they follow a late night show where it’s either really right or really left and if you ask them a question they don’t know how to answer it without referencing a comedy skit. And yet, I want to be able to not have a double standard when it comes to sexuality between men and women. I want to have the same pay rate as my male coworker who has less experience than I do, but I get paid less. I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants.
I want to go to graduate school and get my clinical social work degree so I can help people more than I am now. All I can do is say “well sir, you might have PTSD because you scanned positive on this 10 question test so I’ll send you here to be clinically assessed so they can send you here to get treatment.” Instead I want to say, “Yes sir, I am diagnosing you with PTSD. Let’s set up a care plan on how to treat this so you can continue living your daily life in peace.” But I want to do this without paying $60000 for a mediocre 2 1/2 year degree.
I want a classic today. A new traditional. A classy modern. A tasteful present. I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. I want to help people. I want to be selfish. I am judgmental and hypocritical. I am educated and classy. I am innocent and naive. I am tainted and broken. I love deeply and hide my pain. I am a stream of consciousness. Sometimes older than I care to be, and younger than I wish to be perceived. I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment. And Libba Bray is a genius.
Familiarize yourself with Libba Bray’s blog by clicking “here“