I’m going to tell you about my absence.
Lately, I’ve had a lot of school work. Imagine a world where you offer ten courses in school and out of the ten, you’re given assignments in nine – the kind that are lengthy and voluminous with due dates which follow each other by days of three or two. Not forgetting the tests that come in between every now and then.
Lately, on most days, when I get home, I just freshen up, probably eat and then I fall asleep. I want to have a renewed mind and enough energy to do my assignments a little bit into the night. Then I fall asleep again around 1AM or so to wake up for my 9AM classes. Simple.
So you see, that’s my routine and blogging time – I really can’t squeeze in. I’m currently not the best person to be telling you about decluttering. I mean, declutter so you can breathe but that’s as far as I can go.
I won’t bore you with my current boring and studious life but I’ve been feeling a lot of things. My moods go to the park a lot these days. Swinging and sliding and having fun with themselves. But still I’ve managed to have a taste of bliss in the absence of all thought.
Now, I know a lot of you read this our blog. By stats we’re all just passers by so I wouldn’t guess that some of you literally wait on a new post. I think the weirdest part of the wait has been when my students’ affairs director asked me when I was going to post again because he has been “waiting”. I found it weird and funny – he doesn’t think it’s weird btw.
By way of disclosure, I never really knew quite a number of you actually follow this our blog. So when I get messages that read, “Why haven’t you posted in a long time?” (because I got a lot of those in this time past) I’m always like, “Who, me?” Okay. I didn’t know that. I will. You touched me, I’m in my feels.
Lol okay, so speaking about feelings? We feel many things on a regular day. On some irregular days, well, we feel way more than many things – it’s not just an emotional roller coaster, it’s an emotional disaster. But I’ve learned that a life without all these isn’t really a life at all. A life without clutter, a life without a little trouble, a life without annoyance, a life without siblings, a life without friends, a life without that one person, a life without the daily things in this world that pique us and learning how hard it is to lose someone or something or to fail a test —without this, we never realize the worth of what we have and how beautiful life is in between.
While you’re standing there in that whitespace, feeling different things you may not know how to describe…I’ve been there for quite a while. But I went in search because I felt like some of these feelings can be explained and ta-da some can and I made this list for you. Here are a few of those weird emotions we feel on weird days:
1. Mal De Coucou
A phenomenon in which you have an active social life but very few close friends.
The frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.
The realisation that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.
The unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat, whose tenuous muscular throbbing feels less like a metronome than a nervous ditty your heart is tapping to itself, the kind that people compulsively hum or sing while walking in complete darkness, as if to casually remind the outside world, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.
5. Catoptric Tristesse
The sadness that you’ll never really know what other people think of you, whether good, bad or if at all.
The sadness that you’ll never be able to know how history will turn out, that you’ll dutifully pass on the joke of being alive without ever learning the punchline—the name of the beneficiary of all human struggle, the sum of the final payout of every investment ever made in the future—which may not suit your sense of humor anyway and will probably involve how many people it takes to change a lightbulb.
The desire to care less about things—to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind your every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone—rather to hold your life loosely and playfully, like a volleyball, keeping it in the air, with only quick fleeting interventions, bouncing freely in the hands of trusted friends, always in play.
The frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time, which is like standing in front of the departures screen at an airport, flickering over with strange place names like other people’s passwords, each representing one more thing you’ll never get to see before you die—and all because, as the arrow on the map helpfully points out, you are here.
9. Nodus Tollens
The realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore—that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don’t understand, that don’t even seem to belong in the same genre—which requires you to go back and reread the chapters you had originally skimmed to get to the good parts, only to learn that all along you were supposed to choose your own adventure.
A state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence, which force you to revise your image of what can happen in this world—mending the fences of your expectations, weeding out all unwelcome and invasive truths, cultivating the perennial good that’s buried under the surface, and propping yourself up like an old scarecrow, who’s bursting at the seams but powerless to do anything but stand there and watch.
The bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, where you can finally get the answers to how things turn out in the real world—who your baby sister would become, what your friends would end up doing, where your choices would lead you, exactly when you’d lose the people you took for granted—which is priceless intel that you instinctively want to share with anybody who hadn’t already made the journey, as if there was some part of you who had volunteered to stay behind, who was still stationed at a forgotten outpost somewhere in the past, still eagerly awaiting news from the front.
The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to modernity as a seal on the beach—lumbering, clumsy, resting often, easily distracted, huddled in the presence of other misfits—unable to recognize the nearby…
The age at which you become older than your parents were when you were born – ugh, they may now begin with the “When I was your age” talk.
A moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life.
PS: If you feel like you feel more than you can describe, you can head over to The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows for more.
SEE YOU SOON!