The true nature of love. Have you noticed that infatuation has the same effects of having a heart attack?Cannot remember where I read it, but if I make a summary of the bits of pop junk I gladly saw this week (Shakespeare in Love, Grey's Anatomy, The O.C., Sex and the City and CNN), can conclude that human drama is repetition and repetition and repetition...
I remember that after the first snow this year, my boss got in the office saying: 'Amazing that the traffic was such a chaos. Like it had never snowed before!'
Whenever I fall in love, I feel nobody in the world might understand the feeling. Everything is new and bright, or dark and miserable, depending on the difficulty level. But why don't we humans ever give up? We fall and stand up, and fall again, and make the same mistakes, no matter how many times we see it in the movies. And by the way, I realised I don't fancy movies with happy endings - after 'The Secret Life of Words', I get really upset when the guy gets the girl.
I'd love to find the formula to go through life feeling numb, so I don't feel everything with the same passion. Shrink, new friends, remote friends, this guy I like, art, philosophy, La Chanson Francaise, work, future expectations, troubled mom, troubled best friend, gym, sushi nights, people in town, people out of town, treadmill challenge, book that I'm reading, travels to come... cannot mantain mystique while facing forward.
I'm pink, therefore I'm SPAM.
3 comments:
There's always a reason to be surprised about dark and light matter surrounding you. Anyway, the ultimate surprise awaits just round the corner (Or in the words of Bob Hope, waiting the hour destined to die, the wife asks: Bob, do you want to be cremated or burried? Bob replies: Honey, surprise me)
And the last surprise is, to the spectator, very interesting:
http://notdotcom.blogspot.com/2005/02/being-deadwith-brain-like-chicken-soup.html
(That blog is no more, ceased to be)
Jesper
The chicken soup imagery might have impressed me some months ago, but I am comfortably sipping some tea and not grossed out. Is it because I don't believe in the afterlife? Is it because I saw the saddest "topløs pige" on Earth serving beer to grose Polish guys yesterday and de-humanized myself for at least 72 hours?
Perhaps accepting own's mortality or just don't caring on how one turns into a McMenu is what turns the colours on. That and love, I guess. Both funky experiences.
I'm not scared of death- just don't wanna be there when it happens. (Since this is attributed to Woody Allen and he has not claimed it, I can claim it, right?)
I love your cynicism JB, and hope your brain doesn't become chicken soup soon. Will fetch my Dansk-Spank dictionary and spend some time alone with your blog. Sweet.
Damn it. It was Dansk-Spansk. Spanking is a language universally understood.
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