It goes as follows:
Is there any point talking to that slightly boring girl in the lunch queue if
we're both going to die in 80 years anyway?
Is there any point in making new friends if in a couple of months they will
realise I am an essentially boring person anyway? (This has already happened in
a large number of cases).
Happiness, and its pursuit, seemed
somehow a theme to my day.
I had a fairly depressing day.
I came to the conclusion that those playing the social game (because it is a
bit of a game) were the least happy. Essentially because they all seem to hate
each other, and their friendships seem fluid and flimsy. Then come those who
aren't playing the game, but wish they were. The irony being that they'd be
probably less happy playing it. The happiest people seem to be those completely
removed from all of this, knowing that their friends like them for them,
nothing else. I think.
WHAT SHOULD I DO TO MAKE MY LIFE
MEANINGFUL AND INTERESTING? (Partly inspired by SD)
a) Meet a tall, beautiful man and have a deep, meaningful conversation about
b) Get kidnapped by pirates, ending up a full time member.
c) Go on Coach Trip and meet Brendan.
d) Marry Simon Amstell/(if he remains a homosexual) become his doting best
friend, with deep, meaningful conversations on the meaning of life.
e) Become a Buddhist nun (and chill with the monks).
f) Become an extremely funny and well-loved comedian, providing hilarity to the
g) Get out more.
Although they all seem equally viable
options, there are some issues. To retain the interest and meaning, a) would
have to keep occurring every few months. If this happened however, a) would
lose it's novelty, and I would likely become blasé. b) seems impossible
nowadays, with the lack of traditional rum-drinking pirates on our seas. I
don't fancy joining the Somalis. Unfortunately, I am unlikely to meet Simon
Amstell and subsequently convince him into marriage/becoming my best friend
(although I can tell we would get on remarkably well). As for f), there is
frankly no hope.
For some reason, as long as I can't see
anyone else, my mind is convinced I am alone. For this reason, I always end up
singing in changing rooms and public toilets. I usually catch myself after a
few seconds, but the other day it had been a full minute or two before I
realised. I also realised the other day that I had been shouting for half an
hour in my free period, and subsequently lowered my voice. I was very tired,
and a little delirious. I often have problems adapting to volumes in rooms, so
I end up shouting a lot.
I can't snap out of this mood.
I HATE the expression FML. It's so over-dramatic and self-pitying. If the
person really wished to f their l, they'd be jumping off a bridge with a
lump of concrete tied to their foot, not writing pitying facebook
statuses/tumblr posts. It's also that the people who write it tend to have life
pretty good. After all, they have a computer to write it on. The problem is, no
matter how well off you are, how seemingly perfect your life is, there will
always be periods when you feel shit. That's just how I feel. FMLish.
Suddenly they've started getting drunk, and getting off with the very pleased
looking guys. Why not? They are awfully beautiful after all. Still, it's strange
watching all this happen. Very, very strange indeed.
I reckon you can't waste a life. Every
life adds a little bit to the rich tapestry of life. The great thing about the
earth is the massive diversity of the lives that take place on it. To make a
tapestry, you need a huge number of stitches. If the stitches were all
identical, it’d be terribly boring. Each stitch interweaves with other
stitches; this is what holds the tapestry together. Equally, the tapestry has
to have an edge, where some stitches will interweave with less stitches. The
stronger the bonds are between the stitches, the stronger the tapestry, right?
I am always happier on my own.
The problem with other people is that they have their of personality, their own
feelings. This rather gets in the way. I have my me to deal with, must I deal
with you also? Then they start to speak! This is all lovely, but must I listen
to YOU? What YOU did at the weekend? Let's face it, I'd much rather we wallowed
in my own existential angst. Perhaps we could say nothing at all?
This is why I want a cat. A cat would be my perfect companion.