Dave's Mental Meanderings
Ad 0:
2003-04-06 17:54:03 (UTC)

I Hate Almost Everybody

from my journal
3 April 2003

“A million faces at my feet,
And all I see are dark eyes.”

-Bob Dylan, from the song “Dark Eyes”

If I interpret this lyric correctly, than Dylan and I see
eye-to-eye on this issue. As I understand it, he is
perhaps referring to the feeling he gets when he’s
onstage. There are countless pairs of eyes looking up at
him, countless people listening to what he’s saying. But
they’re not hearing him. Virtually every person alive, as
he sees it, lives the life of a drone, never stopping to
think critically about anything more important that his
stock portfolio. And although I’ve never been onstage like
Dylan has, I get this same feeling from my day-to-day life
in general.

With every person I meet, this theory is further
reinforced. The few people I have met who do not fit this
description, most of whom are close friends, represent
anomalous data points in a vast sea of conformity and
homogeneity. My only hope is that the spark, obviously
never meant to start a fire, will at least propagate itself
down through ages and generations, causing a select few
people (to ballpark it, one in a thousand) of every
generation to live lives of wild fulfillment, constant
searching, and ever-present frustration by the feeling that
they are alone in a world that could be infinitely richer
in soulfulness and introspection if people would just wake
the fuck up.

Take this guy I know, Steven, for example. He’s a chemical
engineering major, like myself. That’s where the
similarity ends. All of his time is consumed by
schoolwork, and for what? Simply to fulfill his one desire
in life as he knows it – to be a financially successful
engineer. And why do I major in chemical engineering?
It’s a field in which I have a mild enjoyment and that will
provide financial means for me to live a life focused on
pursuits of the mind and soul – music, poetry, literature,
traveling, etc… Steven, on the other hand, is quite
possible the antithesis of what I stand for. He denies
himself the privilege of even brief, superficial fun simply
to dedicate his s-called-life to a goal that, once
fulfilled, will leave him just as unfulfilled as he is
now. There’s something seriously fucked up about that.