I like my emotions in the mid-range. Problem is my emotion sensing equipment is overly sensitive. Discovering that the last hot dog bun is only partially moldy is roughly equivalent to getting into the college of my dreams. Dropping a glass and watching it shatter is like finding a cancerous lesion. It is all too much, so I tend to work with my feelings on the emotional layaway plan. Everything gets wrapped in cheesecloth, packed in a sieve and put on the back shelf to mingle with everything else to hopefully create a nicely modulated life experience. As with most things, some blends are better than others, but it's all great cheese for my art.
While this system makes things easier for me, it's hard on Kurt. Am I smiling because he's home or because I am remembering Canterbury Cathedral? Am I sad because I lost my car keys or because someone shot Malala Yousafzai? Sometimes I don't know either. Sometimes it doesn't really matter. So, if you come to tell me I've won the lottery and all I say is "Wow, that's great." I'll be dancing sometime next year.
No comments:
Post a Comment