Too many times in the past week I've gone 'I know! Exactly!' while watching Dexter. Commiserating with a vigilante serial killer. For someone who is so dead against even capital punishment, this is brand new.
Sometimes I wonder if, as a generation, we're all pansies or getting there quickly. I think the people I know alone keep the hand sanitizer industry afloat and not attending close family funerals because you 'cannot deal with it'? When did it get okay to indulge your neuroses so much?
This has been a bad month for trust. Sometimes all you can hear is the empty clanking sounds of long cherished concepts as they fall about your feet. Is it still trust if you know you won't be surprised if the things you're most afraid will happen, do?
Writing is not therapeutic for me anymore, it's become this anxious, regimented farce. I feel terribly close to just letting it all go to hell.
I haven't touched a cigarette in nearly two weeks now. Now that I'm a non-smoker, I want my testimony to be heard: This sucks. It's more sanitary, sure, but more suffocating too. Giving up was the easy bit. Making your peace with now being on the side of The Righteous Twats is harder.
How much do the choices of the people close to us, reflect on us? Think about it. If your boyfriend's last love made Fatal Attraction seem adorable and one of your closest friends adores someone who calls everyone 'babes' - what does that say about you? Are you the antidote? Or more frighteningly, do you share something in common with those people? Ever think, how could he/she have loved them and me?
Thursday, 29 October 2009
Monday, 5 October 2009
Phase In, Phase Out
You know, the more I think about it, the more certain I get that I'm a Phase Person. A Phase Person is somebody whose personality is so far from well-rounded and wholesome that he/she can only ever be a passing phase in another person's life before the latter senses the need to detox. Clearly my self esteem levels are at full mast here. More seriously though, I don't think this a bad thing.
Longevity has never really been my strong point. I have noticed that most everything in life has a shelf life and pushed beyond its expiry date, a relationship, a yellow ointment for problems of the embarrassing kind and your favourite sitcom, will all eventually become a force of habit. In a word: tedious. And I'd just rather eat a washcloth.
Being a Phase Person has some very attractive perks - you don't have to give up smoking or swearing like a truck driver. All your worst habits like chewing your nails, your acute discomfort with brightly lit coffee shops and your endless reserves of self deprecating humour will seem cute/different/quirky. Some strange sexual caveat would probably bump you right up to 'exotic'.
For that short period of time, this is paradise for the kind of Twilight Zone person you are.
Until it all starts to go a bit runny.
One day your Phasees wake up and realise you are a very dysfunctional person indeed. Your obsession with toiletries, all in various nauseating floral scents, are the cause of their headaches. Your deep interest in their mothers' maiden names unsettles them slightly, and can they ever really trust someone who doesn't care for ice-cream? Don't even get them started on your tendency for having your few meaningful conversations with your bilingual, fruitcake of a dog.
From there it's only a matter of time before you become the star of their 'This one time...' stories which will most likely end in '...and then I met my wife/ turned to drugs/ found Jesus."
That's my least favourite part about being a Phase Person. It just never lasts.
Longevity has never really been my strong point. I have noticed that most everything in life has a shelf life and pushed beyond its expiry date, a relationship, a yellow ointment for problems of the embarrassing kind and your favourite sitcom, will all eventually become a force of habit. In a word: tedious. And I'd just rather eat a washcloth.
Being a Phase Person has some very attractive perks - you don't have to give up smoking or swearing like a truck driver. All your worst habits like chewing your nails, your acute discomfort with brightly lit coffee shops and your endless reserves of self deprecating humour will seem cute/different/quirky. Some strange sexual caveat would probably bump you right up to 'exotic'.
For that short period of time, this is paradise for the kind of Twilight Zone person you are.
Until it all starts to go a bit runny.
One day your Phasees wake up and realise you are a very dysfunctional person indeed. Your obsession with toiletries, all in various nauseating floral scents, are the cause of their headaches. Your deep interest in their mothers' maiden names unsettles them slightly, and can they ever really trust someone who doesn't care for ice-cream? Don't even get them started on your tendency for having your few meaningful conversations with your bilingual, fruitcake of a dog.
From there it's only a matter of time before you become the star of their 'This one time...' stories which will most likely end in '...and then I met my wife/ turned to drugs/ found Jesus."
That's my least favourite part about being a Phase Person. It just never lasts.
Friday, 2 October 2009
Dating question.
Is the right person for you the one who puts up with you inspite of your idiosyncrasies, or because of them?
I have found the latter to be true for myself. I am one of those 'love is blind and loins are blurry' kind of people. If I like somebody, every 'do want' and 'don't want' checklist goes through the mind's paper shredder. I'll put up with pisspoor attitude, terrible pronunciations, various psychological complexes and barely satisfactory hygiene. Once I even kissed a guy right after he told me he beat his dog.
Sounds a mite tragic, yeah. Usually I am really very wise. Wise beyond my years. I'm like where the wisdom's at, usually. And granted my 'I wuvz youu no matter what' tendency has got me wading through piles of emotional excrement on more than one occasion but I can't imagine it any other way, you know?
I love the feeling that I could listen to someone ramble endlessly without once experiencing the need to roll my eyes, stifle a yawn or worst, cut 'im short. That I'd happily laugh at an awful joke just because it gets him all aflutter to tell it. That I'd pretend his keen interest in ferrets doesn't concern me slightly. In fact, I think some sort of weird habit involving coffee cup Feng Shui and an extensive collection of something totally useless would probably turn me on (Understanding a little more about why I loved As Good As It Gets so much). It's the nitty gritties that noone on superficial interaction with him could possibly know of. It's those little things I know about because I have the privilege of being this close to him, that make all the difference to me.
This 'staying with someone inspite of their shortcomings' business is all very charitable but it just sounds like a big ol' bag of Settling. I you don't love it, it's going to always be there, on the edge of your consciousness, messing with your confidence every time one of his 'shortcomings' surfaces. Too much trouble, if you ask me.
Note: All of this profundity is only valid until such a time as he stays a gem. All bets are off in the events of adultery, lie-telling and overall douchebaggery.
I have found the latter to be true for myself. I am one of those 'love is blind and loins are blurry' kind of people. If I like somebody, every 'do want' and 'don't want' checklist goes through the mind's paper shredder. I'll put up with pisspoor attitude, terrible pronunciations, various psychological complexes and barely satisfactory hygiene. Once I even kissed a guy right after he told me he beat his dog.
Sounds a mite tragic, yeah. Usually I am really very wise. Wise beyond my years. I'm like where the wisdom's at, usually. And granted my 'I wuvz youu no matter what' tendency has got me wading through piles of emotional excrement on more than one occasion but I can't imagine it any other way, you know?
I love the feeling that I could listen to someone ramble endlessly without once experiencing the need to roll my eyes, stifle a yawn or worst, cut 'im short. That I'd happily laugh at an awful joke just because it gets him all aflutter to tell it. That I'd pretend his keen interest in ferrets doesn't concern me slightly. In fact, I think some sort of weird habit involving coffee cup Feng Shui and an extensive collection of something totally useless would probably turn me on (Understanding a little more about why I loved As Good As It Gets so much). It's the nitty gritties that noone on superficial interaction with him could possibly know of. It's those little things I know about because I have the privilege of being this close to him, that make all the difference to me.
This 'staying with someone inspite of their shortcomings' business is all very charitable but it just sounds like a big ol' bag of Settling. I you don't love it, it's going to always be there, on the edge of your consciousness, messing with your confidence every time one of his 'shortcomings' surfaces. Too much trouble, if you ask me.
Note: All of this profundity is only valid until such a time as he stays a gem. All bets are off in the events of adultery, lie-telling and overall douchebaggery.
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