Vicarious Living
I'm just feeling very, very down right now. I don't know why. Maybe I need some sugar in my system or some chirpy songs or something, but then all the chirpy songs on my laptop--and believe me, I've got plenty of those... they simply irritate me for the moment. In fact at the moment, I'd rather like to find somewhere dank and cold and dark and huddle up in the fetal position and stay there, in that way, until this mood lifts. But, as Murphy's Law holds true, I can't afford to indulge myself at the moment with such things because I've got the Econs exam tomorrow afternoon and I can't afford to not revise my tutorials and the past-year papers...
It's all the love that's swirling around like a poisonous gas, touching everybody around me and turning them into mindlessly happy little fountains that burble on and on about their partner. It's nice to know that the amount of happiness in the world is increasing, be it ever so little, and I suppose it's like the Empress said and I'm a good listener--which attracts people to tell me all sorts of stuff--but still.
Hearing about other people's love lives is a double-edged sword as far as I'm concerned. On the one hand it's always so cute and funny when one laughs at them--gently, of course--and it's always gratifying to know that people trust one enough to tell one about their emotional life, and when one can help calm them down or pass along a little advice--I would say give, but I haven't anything to give in this field except a few theories or general advice--that somehow turns out to actually helpful to them... it's nice to be of good to somebody every now and then.
But it's always so painful. Because when one sees other people being happy and when one realises that they have access to something that one can only ever dream of or wish for, and one knows that one has no hope of attaining that--at least, not if one wishes to remain more or less as one is--well, it's something like Victor Hugo wrote. I feel so much like Aunt Gillernormand, watching bewildered at all the Mariuses and Cosettes sitting on each others' laps and knowing that this is the phenomenon known as romantic love, but not at all knowing how to go about obtaining it or producing it. And then the two happy parties--or whichever one of the parties is more vocal--burbles to me about how sweet, kind, gentle, beautiful, sweet-smelling, tasty, insert-flattering-adjective-here the other partner is, and when I tell them congratulations, it's always so nice that I do it over MSN so that nobody can see the self-mocking smile. In short, it's at these times that I most see myself as somehow cut off from the rest of the species...
Irrational sentiments, I know. Someday soon I'll look back at this post and get very embarrassed about having been so emotional. Maybe I'll even hide a blush and quickly delete it before too much damage to my reputation is done. But right now, the only light I can see at the end of this tunnel is the oncoming train of exams... Do you know, when one is single and has never had anything resembling a love life, and then one suddenly sees everybody on one's MSN contact list suddenly becoming attached left and right and being... oh, so happy... I almost wonder what it might be like.
Then, of course, I look in the mirror and it shatters. In fact I don't even have to look in the mirror before it shatters...
I wish my room came with a cozy little damp, dark corner.
It's all the love that's swirling around like a poisonous gas, touching everybody around me and turning them into mindlessly happy little fountains that burble on and on about their partner. It's nice to know that the amount of happiness in the world is increasing, be it ever so little, and I suppose it's like the Empress said and I'm a good listener--which attracts people to tell me all sorts of stuff--but still.
Hearing about other people's love lives is a double-edged sword as far as I'm concerned. On the one hand it's always so cute and funny when one laughs at them--gently, of course--and it's always gratifying to know that people trust one enough to tell one about their emotional life, and when one can help calm them down or pass along a little advice--I would say give, but I haven't anything to give in this field except a few theories or general advice--that somehow turns out to actually helpful to them... it's nice to be of good to somebody every now and then.
But it's always so painful. Because when one sees other people being happy and when one realises that they have access to something that one can only ever dream of or wish for, and one knows that one has no hope of attaining that--at least, not if one wishes to remain more or less as one is--well, it's something like Victor Hugo wrote. I feel so much like Aunt Gillernormand, watching bewildered at all the Mariuses and Cosettes sitting on each others' laps and knowing that this is the phenomenon known as romantic love, but not at all knowing how to go about obtaining it or producing it. And then the two happy parties--or whichever one of the parties is more vocal--burbles to me about how sweet, kind, gentle, beautiful, sweet-smelling, tasty, insert-flattering-adjective-here the other partner is, and when I tell them congratulations, it's always so nice that I do it over MSN so that nobody can see the self-mocking smile. In short, it's at these times that I most see myself as somehow cut off from the rest of the species...
Irrational sentiments, I know. Someday soon I'll look back at this post and get very embarrassed about having been so emotional. Maybe I'll even hide a blush and quickly delete it before too much damage to my reputation is done. But right now, the only light I can see at the end of this tunnel is the oncoming train of exams... Do you know, when one is single and has never had anything resembling a love life, and then one suddenly sees everybody on one's MSN contact list suddenly becoming attached left and right and being... oh, so happy... I almost wonder what it might be like.
Then, of course, I look in the mirror and it shatters. In fact I don't even have to look in the mirror before it shatters...
I wish my room came with a cozy little damp, dark corner.
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