Surprisingly enough, that's all for January. It's been three weeks, but all of a sudden it's over, and the next thing you know, we're seeing people holding big bunches of roses for the ones they love, again.
As opposed to last night's speediness, today was just too slow. The only new thing I realized (or rediscovered) today is my shallow emotions - I saw myself swearing at the projector for something said on the documentary Hearts and Minds. I think people wanted to throw stuff at me for being so vocal, but I guess that's what I get for not giving a damn to the status quo. Nevertheless it is a dent to my reputation. I did feel someone whisper, this guy's weird!
Shallow emotions? Maybe. You can call it simple joys, but I call it a desperation towards that hormone that gets out of your body in times of happiness. Give me a well-designed magazine, with good writing too, and you'll earn my respect, for knowing what I really want to have - well, just one of them. Some may say that getting the biggest and best thing ever would mean wonders for them, but if you feel you've missed out on a lot, you'd probably be as desperate.
Or you can cry so easily. Trying hard to look good, to relate to everybody else's plight, until you pass off as fake. Relating is a good thing, even if you never really experienced whatever the other party is complaining about, because you can then be sure you will make some sense when you reply. But they'll notice when you babble, and as much as you try to extend the conversation, it just fades away, as it is meant to be.
You can be only so emotionally uninvolved, really. If only to make sure that you pass as a sociable, perfectly human organism, you have to feel some bit of compassion, or else that is it for you. But there has to be a limit - multiply that, for it works better - because if you give away too much, it looks weirder. And thus we resort to shallow emotions to act as if we're perfectly sane.
But what if it is real? What if we find ourselves in a situation that's barely skin deep, but instead, goes to the extent of meaning everything for you?
Well, I didn't realize that, really. I just went on with my day, the usual slow day that happens when nothing excites you. Not that I blame anything for it - it's just that, well, sometimes you do feel let down, when excitement just runs over you and you think everything will turn out fine. Blame my shallow emotions. One day I'm in love; the next day, I'm not.
January has just ended. Come in, February, with your roses and serenades.