Human Behavioral Patterns: Washington D.C., The Crime of Emotional Self-Sufficiency
Emotion is energy in motion. It moves, flows, hides, and hibernates. It watches below consciousness, has a will, and cannot be outnegotiated with logic. Where I’ve worked, people from all walks of life can pick up on energy. Maybe not your emotional state, but the energy or frequency you emit. Nowhere are radars more sensitive than within cities. Never have I seen such emotional readability and social adaptability. By emotional readability, I mean the sensitivity group members have in detecting the vibrational states of individuals inhabiting the collective. Not only do they probe one another daily, but also seem to possess some disposition towards those who seem emotionally self-sufficient. It worries them, keeping them in a constant state of anxiety. They reach this state due to a sort of mirror effect. As they seek radar reflection. For example, if they say something like, “man, the traffic was bad this morning,” and you reply with, “it wasn’t so bad, I actually don’t mind sitting in traffic.” This may seem like nothing, but in truth. A simple remark such as this may well be enough to start an argument. For sending forth a rebuff of their reality is not a simple disagreement, but a criticism. A statement of high and mightiness. A statement of, “here I stand, while you sit in the dirt.”
The group demands not just conformity, but energy mirroring. Yes, one cannot just stoop and say, “oh man, you don’t know the half of it. I almost got in a car accident.” You have to feel the impending doom of the car accident. The reality of such a catastrophe must be lived in your being, lest you be called a deceptive liar behind your back. Make no mistake, the opinion of the group does not matter. However, their perception of you may well matter a great deal. For their perception is your reality. If they think you’re a jerk, they will treat you with deference and fear. If you are a saint, they will mock you and seek to cut you down to their level. They desire low level conflicts. Shallow cuts that shave off limbs through attrition. Snide remarks, subversion, destabilizing insinuations. This is their game, this is how they survive the prison of their lives. Every man in an office is a prisoner. The inmates could choose prolonged peace, but peace is boring. Better to fight, get someone fired, destroy a life, or take one altogether through bloodless suicide. Oh yes, every office suicide is a murder, every heart attack, a crime.
One of the greatest crimes of all is self-sufficiency. Not financially, as few ever attain such a prized luxury, but self-sufficiency of the spirit, of the emotional state. To walk unperturbed, undisturbed by the opinions and murmurings of others. Yes, insulation, autonomic security, a soul, an inner life. This is the greater crime that I speak of. For this crime, there is a zero tolerance policy. If such a man is spotted, he will be mobbed to the highest degree. Beaten into submission through the archaic force, the old primal strategy of numbers. “If we cannot join him, we will beat him. Savage ourselves upon his corpse.”
Yes, people truly believe themselves to be better than this; they are not. They are animals lying in wait. Begging in desperation for something to resist. Something that will bring them together, an outliar of whom though ruining, will make them feel alive. This is the event, the long awaited goring that will grant meaning to the meaningless, fortune to the bankrupt, esteem to the hollow. For they have nothing else. This is why the late Charles Bukowski wrote the poem, “The Genius of the Crowd.”
“there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day
and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace…”
Bukowski continues:
“…beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average
but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect…”
Yes, their hatred is perfect. Try to be different, and experience it for yourself. You’ll win every battle, every bitter struggle, and somehow, inevitably, lose the war.
Hello! We’re D.J. Hoskins
We are Davena and Jason Hoskins, co-authors of 40+ books and siblings who write under the pseudonym D.J. Hoskins. Three years apart and in our twenties, we have been fascinated by stories from a young age. Davena is a student attending Pembroke College, Cambridge, and Princeton University, and Jason attends Georgetown University.
