Bitch on the Blog

January 25, 2011

Misplaced

Filed under: Despair — bitchontheblog @ 03:09

Can’t sleep. Have started watching a VERY long film with an actor whom my brother resembles and has emulated since he [my brother] was fifteen. My mother calls MY son after this particular role’s name – mainly on account of hair colour; though like his uncle he too shares certain attributes.  An actor I very much like but then who knows what he’s like once he steps out of his boots and goes home. I doubt that the actor in question is Magpie’s piece of cake, but wouldn’t be surprised if he guessed who I am talking about.

Yes, the ‘mystique’. I have thought through again  and again and again that which various of you lay at my doorstep. I am not Greta Garbo. Though wish I were – at least then people would accept me for who I am.

I cannot see what the problem is. I cannot see the problem. I cannot see anything. I can’t even see any of you. Soon I’ll lose sight of myself.

I do not know what you want of me, what is expected of me. Why can’t you accept me for who I am? I can’t see GM, Ramana, Con, BHB, , Magpie, Jean, gaelikaa, Ashok et al being kicked for NOT revealing whatever there might be to be discovered. And – take it from me – ALL of you reveal very little of your SELVES.

It came to me in the wake of that so very sad last exchange between BHB and me (I am gutted – mainly about my reaction to the sweet person she is; I should have just let it lie but then I can never let anything lie, can I? Big shortcoming if ever there was one. )

Shortcomings. I don’t know what is so mysterious about me. I have told you in both my blog and comments so much about myself that if my parents and siblings knew what I have given away they’d shoot me on the spot without a moment’s hesitation. Should I ever be found shot please do not deduce that either one of my parents or siblings did the deed. Have also deleted a sentence which took up about a third of one and a half lines. Can’t be too careful; mustn’t put ideas in people’s heads. Remember I do carry a key.

Seriously, Sweethearts, if I was sat down with a mission to write three A4 pages (my writing is big) on any of you I’d be pushed. Hard. You accuse me of not knowing anything about me. I know little about YOU. That’s ok – with me. Let’s take Jean as a particular case in point: She asks questions. Which is a great way of getting people to talk about themselves. But where is Jean? Ramana’s own version of that particular game is to hide behind the hedge of his endless quotations. It’s a good job he lives in India otherwise I’d go round his place and shake something original out of him. Then there is GM. I wish I could say: Let’s not go there. But, oddly, she is a person who reveals a lot about herself. Day after day after day. I hate her Thursdays as much as I hate my Sundays but GM is authentic (if irritating at times). Conrad, to his credit, has changed big time. I sometimes questioned my sanity why I’d even visit his site. But the guy is good, very good indeed. The last few weeks, possibly months (my timekeeping being atrocious I couldn’t say) I find him a different person. Or maybe my perception has changed. Doesn’t matter.

Magpie who says very little is my oasis when water runs low.

So, and whoever I haven’t mentioned count your blessings, do, please, tell me why I know so little about most of you yet some of you are so very demanding of me.

Mystified yours

U

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9 Comments »

  1. Get real, you know one of the most important things about me: I love to ask questions. When no one else is around I ask them of myself. Have wonderful conversations that way and learn a lot. 🙂

    I also love smiley faces.

    Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 25, 2011 @ 03:18 | Reply

    • “Get real”. Yes, Jean, I think I’ll try that some time soon. Thanks.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 25, 2011 @ 03:27 | Reply

  2. And questions can be life changing. Out of the blue one day when I was in high school… actually I was moping around crying about all the sadness and pain in the world… an inner voice asked, “If you’re so smart why aren’t you happy?” Well, er, wouldn’t it be selfish if other people were miserable? “How is your moping around going to help anyone?” Good question. It got me curious about happiness. What is it? Why are some people happy and others not? Etc. Not the sort of pursuit that impresses other people, but I was hooked. All started by a simple question, or two.

    There are worse ways to spend a life.

    Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 25, 2011 @ 03:26 | Reply

    • Jean, yes, questions need to be asked. Whether they are life changing or not.

      That you cried in the face of other’s misery is good … Father of my son, even before we were married, would despair at me when a newspaper article made me cry.

      There is a huge misunderstanding going on here: I am a happy person – not by my design, but by my luck and my genes. But I mope. I mope big time. And I enjoy moping. Because if WE do not mope nothing will ever change, improve. Do you remember the late sixties? I was too young then to play a role. But I sure lived with the fallout.

      It’s good of you to ask questions. And what I said to/about you was not meant to hurt. Some of the things said to me over the last decades, not meant to hurt, have shaken me; sometimes for my good; sometimes I just shook.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 25, 2011 @ 03:34 | Reply

  3. I obviously think there is a difference between moping and taking constructive action. Just a difference in semantics?

    Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 25, 2011 @ 04:15 | Reply

  4. “I cannot see what the problem is.” Who said there’s a problem? Why make such a big deal about people asking you how you hurt yourself? I’m certainly not demanding you answer, I just ask questions. If I think I’m asking something the person doesn’t know I usually add “I don’t know is a fine answer. I just ask a lot of questions.”

    “…where is Jean?” There’s quite a bit of me in my posts and in my comments there and on other people’s blogs. For me blogging is about sharing. That doesn’t mean I expect other people to feel the same way.

    Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 25, 2011 @ 05:32 | Reply

    • Jean, wrote a reply to you BEFORE your last comment somewhat overtaken now because in middle of it son came in to complain about his bank account. Two questions: Why do youngsters NOT sleep these days at time convenient and refreshing to them and why does anyone check their bank account at 0530 GMT? Whatever. Actually, reflecting on what’s just gone on truth is that my own flesh and blood checks his bank account at five thirty in the morning. I will hold his father responsible for this. Not that it will achieve anything since son is given to checking his bank account at unsocial hours by nature and, like most of my acquaintances, father of son does not talk to me any longer.

      Yes, where is Jean. Oh, Jean. Wish I could go for a walk with you and BHB. What fun we would have. We’d laugh, we’d cry, we’d sit down on some icey log. Maybe it’ll happen. Crazier things have.

      “Sharing” – the wording – is a bit of a problem for me. It’s what Americans do – share. Since father of son who I’d normally consult on matters of the English language does not speak to me any longer (see above), very much to chagrin of his American wife (we were friends now disjointed by a man we both know), I can only throw my own towel into the rink. Maybe Magpie might stick it out his neck as to Americanisms.

      Whatever else you do today, mope a little and think of me.

      U

      Comment by Ursula — January 25, 2011 @ 06:28 | Reply

      • Sorry, gave up moping years ago…that very day actually. Haven’t missed it at all. Life As a Shared Adventure is a lot more fun.

        Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 25, 2011 @ 06:43 | Reply

        • Sorry, Ursula, I’m afraid I couldn’t resist. The post I linked to is going to be way too smiley face for you. But it is a part of me. So is mourning our losses and the pain and sadness in the world. To me that’s different than ranting or moping.

          Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 25, 2011 @ 07:20 | Reply


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