cold blooded old times
Am I happier when I'm miserable? At least one friend thinks I'm funnier and more interesting when I'm bitter - it's not that much of a stretch. It's that time of year again (usually a year-round past time, but not this year) where I contemplate The Past. Daaaaamn I have been, am, happy, in a good place, in love. Just a tiny corner wondering whether I've lost my edge, whether in fact I do need to be miserable to do my best work. Bah. Probably not. It's just that time of year.
posted by itinerarium at 2:52 AM
2 Comments:
Well, my friend, it all depends on definitions. What you call happy, I call predictably content; what you call miserable, I call living life in all its erratic and differentiated fullness. The latter is happiness for me; the former is death. Death does cause one to lose one's edge. Happy Christmas!
ah, magda magda magda magda. Thank you for this. I will reply, properly, and at length sometime. In the meantime, I treasure your reply.
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