My roommate and I were having a chat last night with one of our friends who came over, who was baring a little bit of her soul to us. Not in a painful or embarrassing way, she was just sharing naturally what most people would keep , embarrassed, to themselves.
She was talking about pain and war and how she grew up in Germany hearing stories about the Holocaust but never quite understanding it. To give no justice to the poetry of her thoughts, in summary: she felt like she was living in this strange in-between emotional state. Because she had never experienced such horrible pain or trauma as her grandparents did in WWII (for example), she also believed that she had a much lessened range of emotional capacity- because she hadn't felt true pain, she would also never feel true ecstasy. She wishes that she could understand war, understand those feelings of wanting to live or die for something. Because at the moment, she feels purposeless.
I have had thoughts like this before. My roommate hasn't and made it very clear that she thought the friend was a fool for wanting to go through pain. She was preachy and pushy and shut us both up, not because she was right, but because there are times when shutting up is easier than talking to someone who has conditioned themselves not to listen.

It was simultaneously a beautiful evening that I will remember for a long time, and a pretty shit one that I feel uncomfortable thinking about. Judgy judgy.



This is my soul right now. Happy and cheery and though my words may be speckled with melancholy, the final sum of all of my components are something that ultimately is simply, childishly delighted to be existing in the world.


Although I know you don't want to hear about it: I have moved past my mopey stage of relationship mourning and into the phase where all the love and hurt you once felt is replaced by rationality and this bitter crust that wakes you up in the middle of the night, wishing you had something or someone to feel softer emotions for.
I wake up angry and frustrated that I allowed someone to treat me poorly and make me believe I was an absolute chore to be with.
I wake up wondering what my next relationship is going to look like.
And I wake up wish wish wishing that I had never lost my virginity or begun dating, because it's poisoned my mind and I don't know how to go back.

I remember when I first lost my virginity thinking "oh, finally, I can relate to the world! I understand men and I understand women and I understand that there is so little to understand!" And simple way of viewing the world has made me simple.

You think you're real cute, don't you?

There's an episode of Seinfeld where George's girlfriend is told she can't have sex for something like 6 weeks because she's got mono. George is at first really dismayed by this, but soon finds out that when his mind isn't spent obsessing about sex, he's able to channel it into more constructive outlets. He becomes this super-focused genius and is a bit loath to actually get back into sex once he's given the opportunity again. Elaine, on the other hand, becomes significantly less focused and less intelligent when she tries to stop having sex.
I tell you this in order to tell you that: I am like neither of these guys! I will be an idiot forever, I bet! The floodgates were opened all those years ago and now the waters just keep streaming and there's nothing anyone can do about it. I am sure it will get worse as the years go on and I become less of a tasty physical treat. LOOMING DESPAIR.
Listen to Annie Lennox again, quick!