Something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently is the idea that people seem to be predisposed to seek out not just different aspects, but different extents of the human experience. I’m aware that this isn’t a remotely novel observation. We’ve been aware of people we could consider “thrill seekers” or “daredevils” forever, although I do think that these people are unfairly derided. But beyond these extreme examples, some people also just seem to experience a wider range of emotions than others. If emotion is on a ten-point scale, I think most people probably roam within the range of, say, 4-9; at least that’s the case for me. Some people, though, seem able to access a 10, at the cost that they can also access a 1; they can range from the heights of elation to the depths of despair, in a way that feels inaccessible for me.
I’ve already said it before (I know, we’re a week in and I’m already sounding like a broken record; this doesn’t bode well) but I think august spans a large portion of the gamut of human emotion. I’ve also found that people look at me like I’m insane when I say this. I think that the idea outlined above largely explains both my thought and others’ reactions. Maybe the reality is that august spans a large portion of my human experience, but misses much of the human experience. I think there are two reasons for this: first, for most people, august‘s feelings1 are within that 4-9 range, clearly missing the extremes of the gamut; second, for me, august‘s feelings are my 1 and my 10. I’m a hopeless romantic, and although it’s a bit embarrassing to admit (I’m a grown man, after all), my best and worst feelings are largely determined by other people.
That said, I’m not really sure how bad it is for our emotions to be influenced by the state of our relationships. Humans are social creatures, and thriving off social interaction – as well as feeling harmed when social interactions go wrong – are part of the reason that we’re successful, both at a societal level and as individuals. Embarrasment and cringe go hand-in-hand with empathy and likeability.
Historically, the line in august which hit me hardest was “back when we were still changing for the better”. When I’m in a funk, it’s very closely linked to a feeling that I am not improving. Not necessarily that I peaked in high school, and certainly not in a “former gifted kid” sort of way, but something more fundamental.
I don’t really buy into notions of assessing the quality of a human, but as John Green has observed in a couple of recent videos, our core beliefs about others can be very much misaligned with our core beliefs about ourselves, and we’re very good at ignoring this cognitive dissonance; likewise, I’m very good at imagining that my own quality can be assessed, even if others’ cannot. The natural extension of this is that my quality can decline. I can feel that I’m becoming less interesting, or less funny, or less kind, or all of the above.
Problems arise, of course, when these feelings are brought on by failed – or failing – romantic entanglements, whatever form they may take. Especially because I’m not very good at assessing whether a romantic entanglement is actually failing, which is weird, because I’m supremely well-adjusted, self-aware, and have no proclivity towards overthinking. I take a bit of solace in the fact that the narrator of august seems to share this affliction.
- By which I mean the feelings within the situation of august, i.e. hope, nostalgia, melancholy, loss, etc. And maybe even a bit of guilt, although that’s weirdly absent from the song – maybe a topic for another day. ↩︎