There is a certain type of people I meet every day that are dead set on making my life a bit more difficult -the type that blindly tries to direct my writing with complete disregard towards the idea that maybe this person and I might want different things out of life. I don’t know if they think they are actually being helpful because I feel like there is a certain way to be critical with reason but there is also a way to be a total douchebag who just says stuff to feel smarter and this person might be legitimately smart but there has to be a way to be smart without having to be a douchebag. If you know who you are, you my dear, are an ass.
Let me just say this blog is not here to make you happy, dear reader. It’s here to help me think without fear and maybe if you’re ስራፈት, you get to think too.
Sorry that’s the end of my hate rant but I think it was necessary. If I had ten readers I might have just lost two of you. Goodbye.
Now on to the love part.
Earlier this evening, I joined my family out for drinks and some live Jazz and because I have to work on something tonight, I settled for coffee instead of beer which means I started thinking about stuff like how people claim to “understand” jazz music. I mean is it like mathematics because there’s a lot I don’t get there either. And I’m ቀላዋጭ when it comes to music. I can listen to a wide variety and be carried away. Instrumental jazz sets a certain mood for me. It takes me to places and eras I’m nostalgic for even though I’ve never been. Jazz with lyrics makes me want to fall in love.
The place we went to was packed with older people. As I rushed into the place shaking off the evening cold, I was preceded by a well-dressed couple maybe in their late fifties. I followed them with my eyes for a while. While the band was playing, the two didn’t talk with each other too much but they sat with their bodies tilted towards one another. They watched the band silently still but the man kept time with fingers on his arm rest. There was a ring there. She had one too. When the band was taking a break, they ate their dinner and drank their beer and wine smiling and talking in low voices. I couldn’t hear what they were saying; they could be brother and sister, they could be two people having some scandalous affair, they could be two broken people planning a murder for all I know but my society has conditioned me to see this and think cute old married couple out on date night. And while I have never liked the idea of marriage for myself, this made me a little envious. Like it’s the stuff of professionally happy people (as opposed to the other crowd I belong to, the professionally pissed off)
When my peers talk about love, they always make it seem like there’s some far-off time where we’re all married to someone because they’re dead sure there will be someone but for now they say we’re just looking. I never want the idea of being in a “real relationship” to be something you find after casting a net hoping people fall in so you catch several fish at once and throw each one by one back into the river before you find that One. This is the case for a lot of people I know and it’s also what most people try to convince me it should be like and no shit, I’m afraid to be near these people for some reason.
I don’t like to talk about love (or even write about it much) because if I talk about what I think about it, there could be some nodding heads. I’d be right in theory and I think everyone just wants to be like that old couple I saw tonight; sharing something beautiful and not actually having to be doing much to convince other people of just how much they love each other. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve misunderstood these two people and ended up drawing some image in my head because I’m angry about people making a big deal about valentine’s day which is a solid week away and I’ve let what someone said get to me. Or maybe I’m serious.
There’s so much that goes into this and it hurts to think of how so many of us are way off just because we think have to be cool. Or perhaps because we are busy protecting ourselves. And rightly so.
P.S. I lied about the ten readers thing. WordPress is a big fat liar most of the time but I’m pushing at close to 4k views. So yay?
P.P.S. There will be that one well-wisher who will try to tell me I can do better. Please don’t.