The other night at work I walked in to find
a small bird-like woman passed out on the floor.
She’d been there for hours like that.
When they finally came to take her away
she was crawling around the parking lot
howling like an angry beast.
I watched the spectacle of them loading her into the van
with a mixture of horror and contempt.
But truthfully, there was a very small part of me that was also envious.
I don’t think I’ll ever be that crazy, try as I might.
Is there a name for the feeling of relief at not getting what you long for?
This is the song I associate with that:
Yes, I have songs for my emotions, don’t you?
I also have a thing for unique, patchwork emotions.
My Brezny recently summarized it nicely:
Novelist Jeffrey Eugenides says he doesn’t have generic emotions that can be described with one word. “Sadness,” “joy,” and “regret” don’t happen to him. Instead, he prefers “complicated hybrid emotions, Germanic train-car constructions,” like “the disappointment of sleeping with one’s fantasy.” He delights in sensing “intimations of mortality brought on by aging family members” and “sadness inspired by failing restaurants.” In the coming days, Libra, I think you should specialize in one-of-a-kind feelings like these.