Lately I’ve attached music to whatever musings written. Maybe I wanted to convey something between the lines with that attachment, but I think it’s because of moods and how they meet.
With how volatile most peoples’ moods are, I am surprised we manage any relations at all. I suppose they’re only managed due to the ingenious nature of professionalism or cool detachment. Otherwise most meetings or conversations or even spare readers you do find yourself with will have a slot machine attached, one that you pull and hopefully it doesn’t detonate. Lately I’ve been exploring on how to control my mood & thoughts, but for most people, and even myself now, we’re a slave to our moods. Sour day? That guy who cut you off will not hear the end of it, that’s for sure. It’s time to subjugate all of your passengers to your road rage :-)
Yet we still have relations. That’s going to happen. You’re going to run into people, and you’re running into people online too — unless you think this to be all AI generated content and you’re in the most advanced skinner’s box. Let’s go with the former.
A trait most valued is consistency — consistency in how you act, how you are, what you are, what to expect. People may bemoan the roles we fall into, and yet without those guard rails you may find yourself more confused! How will you proceed in these interactions otherwise? Through consistency we find ourselves comfortable expressing. This is often why when you meet someone for the first time, it’s awkward: what mode of conversation suits their general mood? Not serious? Somber? Lighthearted? Passionate? Depressive? Manic? This is also why when you meet someone after a long departure you may find it awkward; you have to figure out how their mood has changed through the years. Yet isn’t this strange, considering that we’re slaves to our mood still? People don’t control their emotions, and they rarely try! Is consistency a false ideal?
Playing along with this idea of consistency, we are quick on our toes to figure out the best mode of words if we’re sociopathic enough. Yet with the written word, one misses out on the very tools needed! Voice inflection along with body position: the timid elbow held while looking away. Eye contact, eyebrow raised slightly. We’re missing valuable indicators of mood. This is the source of a lot of frustration between us — although we may compose our words with an affable demeanor, you know as much as I do that if you’re feeling sick, reading over a lighthearted joke may turn into a ruthless dress down and a burning hatred. Or the nuance of how some words come off may fall flat if someone is in a rather serious mood, or in a rather morose mood, or in a rather languid mood. Every mood colors the whole composition! (The whole reality, really).
What is one to do? There’s no method for the written word, unlike in person (if we’re still assuming that it’s something one ought to do, this whole mood game). The thing about any written word too is that, well, if you’re hoping to morph your words toward almost a neutral path, then the passion is lost — in addition, you cannot expect to meet everyone where they are, what mood they’re in. What’s good for one may not be good for the other. And if we’re just a one on one correspondence, let’s just hope they hold close to their consistency — but their real nature will reveal itself and you’ll be even more confused, won’t you? Anyway, as compromise I’ve subconsciously attached some music, but even such music may be grating to the reader’s ears depending on where they are and what mood island they usually inhabit.
Sometimes when you find yourself iterating over every edge-case and nuance and adding supplemental clauses saying “I know this may be and that is so and” it can also detract from the main point; to acquiesce in this manner may make you believe you’re connecting with ingenuity, but more often than not it may show something deflated and whoever you’re connecting with, whoever you crafted those edge cases for, will dismiss and demean you anyway as their chip on the shoulder has no antidote. No order of words can soothe them if their heels are dug in enough on their mood isle.
Is one forever a slave to the moods of others? I don’t think so. The fallacy here is this assumption that you need to connect with everyone, shedding who you are for social points. Another fallacy is this idea of consistency if most people can’t even control their moods! Why spend so much time worrying about this stuff when eggshell-walking is inevitable? I can only wish you luck in finding those who are only consistent through collapsing the whole concept of the ego, the little ole me. For the whole “awkwardness” in the earlier examples shows an insecure self. On both ends. Reality is you can’t sweat it, because reality is volatile by nature with most people. Some people will always hate you. Your moods will meet and you have to abort mission. And you can’t sweat it. Just have to remember that when someone is being mean or cruel to you (which hasn’t happened to me in awhile), it’s because they’re already feeling horrible. They’re frightened, lashing out. Why be upset? Flip of a coin. Sometimes you’ll provoke people, come off wrong, and that’s just how it is when you’re inhabiting different worlds.
Being aware of moods sounds rather obvious to some people, but it’s something I’ve mostly forgotten. In retrospect it is the primary motivator for mostly being alone: consistency is a promise rarely fulfilled. The more you expose yourself to others, the more you may find yourself slipping and subjugating yourself to the whims of their sporadic mindscape. I can’t abide by that. It’s strange to be friends with people and then their real self shows and they’re just absolutely venomous to you, because most people are hiding behind this “mood game” of “consistency” and we are all too quick to drop our defenses, let the enemy in and whittle you down! For it’s hard to imagine the different worlds people inhabit because of their moods — we all get comfortable with this assumption that we’re seeing the same thing, but we’re not. We just aren’t. We aren’t infallible. I can only accept how I come across, in person or in word, and if anything I appreciate the reminders of all the different isles out there. This site was crafted to help me reach higher isles, so anything helps. I love seeing what people have to say. Just not fond of giving more time than necessary. With little yield, other than a reminder, I suppose. When you’re trying to hop to higher isles, you can’t let yourself fall back down by listening closely to those who choose to stay closer to swamp level.
One thing to keep close eye on in moods is what molds them, beyond the sporadic nature of most minds. The undercurrent of social expectation does indeed. One has to keep in mind what’s taboo in a culture. Most of writing is about eliciting a response for the intended audience and would have to pay heed — only a very small few take advantage of it to order the thoughts in their head. I like to think of myself as the latter, and now I’m just sharing my notes with you. Still, even I pay attention to social expectations: violating them is rarely of benefit. Maybe one day we’ll all reach the point of the enlightened and no longer need words to organize our mind.
The solution to me seems to be where you are at peace, still, calm, and, with open silence, accept all of those that do come through. When one does reach such a state, I wonder then what one would ever write about: most writing, again, I think is some form of neuroticism. I suppose the conversation turns entirely away from anything like relationships and self image and instead indulges in the beauty or the next steps toward your dream.