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Tonight, two men made me think.
(A dangerous past time, I know.)
He came to her house one evening and asked for her. A year had passed since their clinical encounters. Stolid in black, she went down to the parlor wondering had he come to collect? But he acted as if they were meeting for the first time since her girlhood. She could read no mocking in his eyes, his manner telegraphed no reminders, he had brought a box of pastries. (Filipinos, when they call on a girl, do not bring flowers but always something to eat.) In the dim parlor, among the old furniture, his silk suit glistened like new money; she watched from behind remote eyes and unsmiling lips. Afterwards, she became violently sick; she had felt nauseated throughout the visit, during which, as he spoke in a low voice of this and that, she had mostly sat silent, feeling the man's presence seeping into her every pore, clogging her lungs, disrupting her innards. But she was startled by the information from his eyes. She was now used to thinking of herself as old, faded, and faceless (she was in her middle thirties); his eyes revealed that she was beautiful.
Nick Joaquin, The Woman Who Had Two Navels
The thing is, I don't really like to think. And when I find someone who makes me think, and I mean really think, I run away, scared that everything I have ever worked so hard to become familiar with will be ruined. I'll be uneasy and vulnerable. I have nothing to cower behind when it turns out that I was wrong and the universe is playing a prank on me. (That's why it's so amusing when people think I'm strong. I'm chickenshit you know that.) I'm easy to please, really. A shallow existence does that to a person. But thinking forces me to face the fact that I am living a shallow existence, and that sooner or later, I'm gonna have to face the world and start living my life.
I'm not so sure if I'm ready to live my life again.
"There's no peace in a dream world, because dreams don't last."
"and the only way to make them last is to go mad."
"you must face life again, abandon this false peace, and be willing to suffer. Have the courage to suffer."
Turns out I was living my life just fine before all this, tho.
Just gotta figure out how to get back there.
Tonight was surreal. Thanks.
(A dangerous past time, I know.)
He came to her house one evening and asked for her. A year had passed since their clinical encounters. Stolid in black, she went down to the parlor wondering had he come to collect? But he acted as if they were meeting for the first time since her girlhood. She could read no mocking in his eyes, his manner telegraphed no reminders, he had brought a box of pastries. (Filipinos, when they call on a girl, do not bring flowers but always something to eat.) In the dim parlor, among the old furniture, his silk suit glistened like new money; she watched from behind remote eyes and unsmiling lips. Afterwards, she became violently sick; she had felt nauseated throughout the visit, during which, as he spoke in a low voice of this and that, she had mostly sat silent, feeling the man's presence seeping into her every pore, clogging her lungs, disrupting her innards. But she was startled by the information from his eyes. She was now used to thinking of herself as old, faded, and faceless (she was in her middle thirties); his eyes revealed that she was beautiful.
Nick Joaquin, The Woman Who Had Two Navels
The thing is, I don't really like to think. And when I find someone who makes me think, and I mean really think, I run away, scared that everything I have ever worked so hard to become familiar with will be ruined. I'll be uneasy and vulnerable. I have nothing to cower behind when it turns out that I was wrong and the universe is playing a prank on me. (That's why it's so amusing when people think I'm strong. I'm chickenshit you know that.) I'm easy to please, really. A shallow existence does that to a person. But thinking forces me to face the fact that I am living a shallow existence, and that sooner or later, I'm gonna have to face the world and start living my life.
I'm not so sure if I'm ready to live my life again.
"There's no peace in a dream world, because dreams don't last."
"and the only way to make them last is to go mad."
"you must face life again, abandon this false peace, and be willing to suffer. Have the courage to suffer."
Turns out I was living my life just fine before all this, tho.
Just gotta figure out how to get back there.
Tonight was surreal. Thanks.