This may sound as a derogatory term : ‘disillusioned’ comes to tag those among us who jar with the channels of common enthusiasm.
We have entered the diktat of ostentatious zest.
And here, we have a problem.
I am not depressed. Far from it…
I love life more than anyone.
I love life as it runs through anyone.
Yet, in this typical drive we are to ride not to raise suspicion, there are two aspects I am uncomfortable with :
First, the ostentatious attribute. I claim the inner property of my love of life.
My enthusiasm, because it is deep, is outdated, off-time, and does not care the least of being a factor of group identification.
It has strictly no need to pour out as degenerated canine excitement everywhere I go.
This, my second reservation, is a consequence of an Americanization of our world vision.
The display of enthusiasm is supposed to be correlated with the achievement of a quantifiable objective. Emulation of the former calls in the appearance of the latter.
All this boils down to buying the mother-illusion according to which an external configuration of event is necessarily leading to inner fulfillment.
Real fulfillment has no connection with any necessity to be noticed. Visibility is not its concern.
The root problem is the necessity for visibility.
The negative effect of that new basic modality of behavior is that any absence of coarse – and aggressive – motivation is suspect.
Anyone peacefully sipping life, away from cocktails and parties, is perceived as a recluse.
Anyone failing at giving the sizzling appeal to compulsively network the top position in their to-do list is a non go-getter.
Disillusioned – this is a beautiful word : dis-illusioned. A human being who has stopped being illusioned.
The awakenened ones, whatever the degree of enlightenment or their theoretical community, are dis-illusioned. … They have left the illu-zone.
Zone of noise
Zone of the coarse,
The sluggish, the heavy
Zone of assertion,
Zone of abuse