An Appetite No Misery Satisfies.

It’s how I fill the time when nothing’s happening. Thinking too much, flirting with Melancholy.

Is it possible to feel sad all the time?

Someone said to me (a long time ago) that it’s okay for people to feel down once in a while but not all the time (note that this person only knows me online via my blog) as is the case with me. She said that all my articles tend to lean more on the dark side rather than on the sunny side of life. Always rain, no sunshine. Too heavy to consume and digest on a daily basis, she said.

If she means I’m pessimistic and negative, I disagree. I’m always positive to the point of I tend to see bad days as ordinary days and learned not only to dance in the rain but make the most of it.

A little bit of storm will never stop me on my way. I’m used to getting wet.

So, why my blog posts are mostly not everyone’s cup of tea?

Maybe that’s why.

I don’t find happy times worth mentioning. They are few and far between and what is happiness anyway? If you don’t feel like killing yourself today, are you happy? If you smile because something touches your heart, are you happy? If nothing out of the ordinary happens and life goes on the way it was, are you happy? If you had sex after three months or longer without and feel no different than yesterday, are you happy?

Whatever happiness is, I don’t do happy. No happily ever after in my fairy tales. I detest happily ever after, that’s why I don’t read chick-lit or light-hearted fictions. If you know already that whatever might happens in between those pages prior to the ending will nothing but a diversion because, in the end, they will ride into the sunset, why bother?

I find it a waste of time.

Besides, it doesn’t mirror the reality of life.

In reality, the story only begins when happily ever after has ended.

But yeah… As someone said:

“I strongly believe that we must tie our sanity around something (or someone). May it be your dog, a future event, past regrets, or current obligations. We must keep ourselves anchored so we don’t easily drift away into nothingness.”

To each his own.

Whatever floats your boat.

But pessimistic I am not.

Melancholic perhaps.

But never negative.

I prefer to be called realistic.

How’s that?

Fair enough?

8 thoughts on “An Appetite No Misery Satisfies.”

      1. My holiday was fine, thank you. Unspecial, which doesn’t mean it was bad. I didn’t stay with family this year, so much of the time was on my own and quiet. I visited with friends on Christmas day and then on New Year’s day. A couple of friends I visit with a lot gave me a stocking filled with Christmas cheer. So I actually had some things to unwrap (child-instinct mollified).

        And you, how was your holiday? I hope there were some fine, maybe fun moments. And the new year is off to a good start for you.


      2. My holiday? Well… my daughter and I are not in speaking term again. Irreconcilable differences. My son was out traveling around during the holiday. I had a brunch with people who would rather be somewhere else but duty bound. On new year’s day I went to a place that was on my bucket list. It was not as I expected. I received 800 euros for a Christmas gift and spent it on things I don’t even need. Now I feel guilty. At this moment I am nursing a stomach flu and a real flu. But I’m still optimistic that everything will turn out the way it supposed to be. I am cheering myself with some of Dr. Seuss words of wisdom:

        You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose.

        You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And you are the one who’ll decide where to go.

        You oughta be thankful a whole heaping lot for the people and places you’re lucky you’re not.

        Liked by 2 people

  1. I’m “liking” the good parts, the Seuss parts, and your honesty in everything, overall. I’m sorry about your being sick. Flu gets serious, so I appreciate your taking care of that (both kinds). I’m sorry about obligatory things to do, though I’m not sure how we escape them. I get out of some but sometimes at the expense of perception to be available. I’m sorry about your daughter and not talking. That should be a better kind of obligation. I wasted some money over the holidays as well, and I’m poor. Something in the season, I guess. I get a good charge out of the third Seuss citation. The first two speak well to getting older but maybe presume means we don’t all have.

    Thanks for letting me know what’s going on. Some might say to all the “I’m sorrys” that it wasn’t my fault so why say I’m sorry. But I think you know it’s meant (they’re meant) to sympathize. I hope the better that’s supposed to happen happens soon.


    1. Sometimes it hurts too much inside, the feeling of emptiness. My granddaughter is 6 months old today and I did not see her for two months now due to my ongoing conflict with my daughter. I want to see her growing up, be part of it but not at the cost of my self-respect and dignity. I’m trying to survive day by day, taking each one as it comes and making the most of it. I hope one day everything will fall into place. Thanks for listening.


      1. Anytime. Glad to listen. You should see your granddaughter, and she should see you. That’s good for everyone. And she should get to know you as you.


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