A Non-Newtonian Fluid (maddening) wrote,
A Non-Newtonian Fluid
maddening

Not nearly as melancholy as I sound. Just thinking.

Nell Carter died today. That leaves me very sad.

Then I actually watched an entire episode of Good Morning Miami. And that left me pretty horrified.
Everything about love and romance and those deeper levels of actual meaningful interaction boiled down into 20 minutes of bad acting, horrible writing, and piles and piles of the most offensively vile glop.
I am disgustingly jaded when it comes to love.
I've pretty much decided that I'm incapable of it.
Not of giving it, of course. But of entering into that sort of pact with someone.
I love my friends. I love some of my friends more than I thought it was possible to love people at all. Ever.
I love parts of my family in such a familiar way that it doesn't even register as such most of the time.
I can love things and places. I become passionately attached to all manner of things and people.

But when it comes to actual romantic love... I dunno. I used to say that I just wasn't built for it. That's not true. I'm custom fucking made.
The thing is, most people aren't worth it. They aren't worth my time, my effort. They certainly aren't worth my heart on a platter. It's rare enough to find people I enjoy having CONVERSATIONS with, let alone someone with whom I could ever connect with in a way that leaves me without question and without reservation about every inch of who and what they are and I am and we are.
Even thinking about all that sort of makes my shoulders scrunch up.

I've gotten sort of close. Heh. I've fooled myself alot. I've decided to accept less than I need for chunks of time and it's done nothing but leave me worse for the wear.
So I'm bitter, jaded, untrusting, cynical, and either far too quick to judge or absolutely the last to realize that I really should have been judging.
And sometimes I really dislike that about myself. There are times when I get into huge berating modes where all I can think is how fucking horrible I am and can be to people. And I resolve to be better, be nicer, just fucking love more. But there are reasons for every little nick and scratch on my rose colored glasses.
I earned them all.
Which is nothing at all like *deserving* them all.
Sort of like the difference between acknowledging how jaded and bitter and curled in I am and actually enjoying it or trying to further it.

And that's why I should never watch things like Good Morning Miami. Becuase it takes one of those incredibly big things that I know I want, feel I won't ever have, and makes it into a punchline.
a poorly written punchline.
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