Smile, an ever-plastic smile...

There's something so unreal about a smile. Telling so much more than what's evident, definitely less than what's on the smiler's mind. It's up to the person being smiled at, to interpret.

It's grossly deceptive, when inserted in a conversation. It could indicate that the smiler has "left the building", so to speak, and is simply being polite by smiling. Or that he's just laughing at you, on the inside, so on the outside, it's really a smirk - doused in condescension and pity. Or maybe it's a pathetic effort at pleasing company. In any case, it isn't what it's defined to be for.

And in the hideously inappropriate avatar of an emoticon, a smile, or rather, a smilie, is everything but a smile. Definitely the two most politically motivated symbols activated with the shift key. It's to cushion the harsh impact of verbal blows, it's to keep things light while ripping your soul to shreds. To lend a human touch to an otherwise clinical act. An after-thought of decency. All that's remained from the self-help books.

And the recipient, unless he overthinks the situation, probably nods happily to himself. Til a later hour, when the message undilutes itself, shrugging the smilie off, and lands its full and complete impact.

Can't believe there are people who consider this emoticon unprofessional. It's the greatest weapon of destruction - how did we ever manage without it?!

Random musings on a Tuesday morning

Masochism actually makes sense. On two counts.
One, in the immortal words of Meredith Grey, "Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop..." Medicine would have no value, if not for pain and disease.
And on a related count, there is a motivation to work harder, to triumph. To impress and to make that unforgiving point - "I'm better than you think". When in truth, one is only revising one's estimate of oneself, as a function of inputs from irrelevant external agents. So it's really "There is a "me" that you are imagining that I can or cannot be... I don't know if I like that person, but I know I can be it."
It's really a fleeting thought, this input in that 'somebody elses' mind. The input that we seek and incorporate into our being. Something with so little value in the originator, turning into the single most annoying thorn in one's side.
Life never was meant to be fair.

the curse of the active imagination

sometimes, it feels like i live most of my life inside my head. and not in the wildly creative sort of way. it's not even terribly entertaining.

i imagine conversations that i want to have, the ones i'll never really dare to anyway. where i am this person that i don't even think i want to be. when the situation presents itself, the conversation plays back in my head, and it's almost as if i'm watching myself from a distance, and i'm so busy laughing at myself, at the very idea that i might be that brave. and then the moment passes, and so does my opportunity to impress my own pathetic self.

i think this sort of insecurity, and insufficiency of the self, is the most tragic disease one can suffer.

Happy New Year!

So I missed the bus. I resolved with mighty resolve that I'd make a fresh start on 01/01/2009, but I blame it on the digits - they add up to a frightful 13, and promise all kinds of scares for the rest of the year. Perhaps starting (again) on such a date wouldn't have been most cosmically favourable.

But still, there is much to be thankful for, and much much more to be hopeful for.
I have perhaps made some of the best decisions of my life last year. I sometimes wonder if I have simply set myself up for disaster, or if I am finally shaking off my lifelong insistance at being a moron-child.

So this shall be the year of living with one's decisions from last year. And making tougher ones.

Also known as growing up, in some cultures.

Oh boy.