"You define your existence through misery." - Agent Smith to Morpheus in The Matrix.
Wow, what a downer. Except not really. I had a discussion with someone, quite a while ago now, about how the human frame of reference is comparative. That is to say, we can only describe something in relationship to at least one other thing. My companion at the time was of the opinion that something greater than humans, I believe she went with this thing she kept referring to as "God," which I have never heard of but is apparently quite popular, could observe reality in a non-comparative way, and as such define things like colours and gravity and basically everything without comparing it to anything else, even frames of reference like "metres" or "seconds." Needless to say, I disagreed vociferously. I disagreed, partly because why should I give a shit about how something outside space and time (I don't know how that works, but apparently it does) perceives reality, but mostly because it betrays a fundamental understanding about the way people think.
Why am I bringing up something so old now? Well, because it relates to something happening to me now, and so it's a great way to demonstrate just how dependent we are on previous experience to shape how we view reality as a whole. This entry is meta, put that in your pipe and smoke it.
So, I'm happy. I'm pretty fucking chirpy right now, got all kinds of good feelings brewing in the general chest and stomach area. I'm not gonna say "oh man it's been a while," because what a horrible insult to give the people I share my life with. It paints a picture of drudgery and discontentment, unassisted by friends and family, until this one new stimulus has come in and enlivened my otherwise pointless existence. Truth be told, I'm normally the one stumbling through people's doors, wearing yesterday's clothes and declaring "I am the King of Gin!" Bombay Sapphire should sponsor me.
Truth is though, I was in a bit of a strange place for the past few weeks, due to something ultimately very trivial. People have lost their houses, all their saving and their body parts in the past. All I lost was a girlfriend. And realistically, the friend part can stay on there. So I lost a prefix. Still, was bummed. Beer at 10am bummed. But it becomes an interesting thought experiment to think about the dynamics of emotion. Why did this make me so sad when previous breakups haven't? Maybe it's because the relationship itself made me happier than previous ones, so the emotional displacement still ends up being zero.
Wouldn't you become desensitized to constant happiness? After a while, you'd just stop caring. How many wealthy, comfortable people get depression? Constant happiness is like emotional obesity; it just ends up being bad for your mental health. Obviously you want to be happier more times than you are sad, just as you don't want to starve, but you also don't want to be mentally unable to see your emotional penis over the rolls of your intellectual beer gut. Whoa that metaphor was incredibly stretched.
Human experience is comparative. We can't describe the length of a swimming pool without referring to the length of a rod in a room in France. True story. We also can't feel happiness without having sadness to compare it with. So if you meet me (you won't, I am a godlike being so far above mere mortals that even glancing upon my stunning visage will induce madness) and I seem a little too perky, just remember, I was probably pretty bummed a while back.
P.S. This is my justification for my overwhelming personal pessimism. If something is going good for me, there must be some storm clouds on the horizon. Nature of reality. Understandably it's frustrating for people trying to compliment me or tell me I've done well at something, because all compliments feel like veiled insults. Insults, on the other hand, seem like a show of affection and approval. Go figure! For these and many more insights into The Last Whiny Man's personal relationships, buy me a pint sometime.
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