Some heartfelt ramblings
Mar. 10th, 2010 12:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ruyu1. The Glass Wall's got fingerprints on it.
You know that feeling you get like you're watching everyone through a glass wall? Well, I feel like that. So much in fact, that I can hardly stand it sometimes. The people around me don't really ignore me, but I feel like I'm a stand in, a temporary person that has zero conversation value. They just don't know how much I want to say, though. I want to ask people why they do the things they do, why they say the things they say and why... they are the way they are. Do someone people really mean to terrible, inconsiderate people? I hope not. When people are down right rude, do they truly feel the need to be rude? Why would you ever want to be that kind of person? (You'll notice all the questions, but very few answers.) Apparently, I am an observer and not a doer. I wish it was the reverse, occasionally. Oblivion is underrated, highly underrated.
2. And that Makes me Sad
When I see people in love, falling in love, falling out of love, it makes me horribly sad and happy at the same time. To me, love is like a symphony. You have the introduction; all bright and forthcoming, introducing the chorus and the melody. Then the crescendo to the main part where it lifts your heart to places you never thought it go, makes you breath deep and nearly cry with satisfaction at having heard that tune, that series of notes and rhythms that expressed what love really feels like to you. And it is breathtaking. It is throbbing emotion that nearly wounds you. Then the small key change, just that one flat in the melody changes the tune and leads you somewhere else, down the road to the fine (to the end) The tune grows slow and the decrescendo is never in the place you want it to be in. The bass instruments hum down the final passage and the flutes whisper something you know you'll forget and the conductor's baton settles like ripples on a lake. You never wanted it to stop, but all music ends. All things end. That is why love makes me both happy and sad.
3. It's something I'm missing
I'm not sure I know what rage even feels like. Have I ever been in a rage? A childhood rage, perhaps. But as an adult - no, I can't say I have. People say I'm a mellow person, the calm one, but brutal at the same time. Can you be both, calm and brutal? I guess so. For once I'd like to be pissed and brutal, just do the whole "Shut the fuck up" thing properly. Most of my tantrums consist of me calming myself while at the same time trying to say what I mean to say. It's all very frustration. And counter-productive, really.
I think I've said too much.
You know that feeling you get like you're watching everyone through a glass wall? Well, I feel like that. So much in fact, that I can hardly stand it sometimes. The people around me don't really ignore me, but I feel like I'm a stand in, a temporary person that has zero conversation value. They just don't know how much I want to say, though. I want to ask people why they do the things they do, why they say the things they say and why... they are the way they are. Do someone people really mean to terrible, inconsiderate people? I hope not. When people are down right rude, do they truly feel the need to be rude? Why would you ever want to be that kind of person? (You'll notice all the questions, but very few answers.) Apparently, I am an observer and not a doer. I wish it was the reverse, occasionally. Oblivion is underrated, highly underrated.
2. And that Makes me Sad
When I see people in love, falling in love, falling out of love, it makes me horribly sad and happy at the same time. To me, love is like a symphony. You have the introduction; all bright and forthcoming, introducing the chorus and the melody. Then the crescendo to the main part where it lifts your heart to places you never thought it go, makes you breath deep and nearly cry with satisfaction at having heard that tune, that series of notes and rhythms that expressed what love really feels like to you. And it is breathtaking. It is throbbing emotion that nearly wounds you. Then the small key change, just that one flat in the melody changes the tune and leads you somewhere else, down the road to the fine (to the end) The tune grows slow and the decrescendo is never in the place you want it to be in. The bass instruments hum down the final passage and the flutes whisper something you know you'll forget and the conductor's baton settles like ripples on a lake. You never wanted it to stop, but all music ends. All things end. That is why love makes me both happy and sad.
3. It's something I'm missing
I'm not sure I know what rage even feels like. Have I ever been in a rage? A childhood rage, perhaps. But as an adult - no, I can't say I have. People say I'm a mellow person, the calm one, but brutal at the same time. Can you be both, calm and brutal? I guess so. For once I'd like to be pissed and brutal, just do the whole "Shut the fuck up" thing properly. Most of my tantrums consist of me calming myself while at the same time trying to say what I mean to say. It's all very frustration. And counter-productive, really.
I think I've said too much.
