Tuesday, February 12, 2013

12-b

Sometimes being happy means you give up happiness itself. Those moments where you're over-the-moon ecstatic, when you're ebullient, brimming with joy - those moments are momentary. They last waveringly like a transparent bubble reflecting a million colours for a second, two seconds, before it bursts.

The problem with sharing - the good, the bad; everything - is that it turns back on you when you least expect it. Once, a friend told me how her mother advised her never to tell everything, because one day, it will be used against you, wittingly or unwittingly. Of course, me being the all-transparent me, I had to scoff when I was told this all so many years ago. But now when I'm on the topic, this is what I am recalling and considering.

When people experience something good, all of a sudden they are knocking on wood, crossing fingers, putting 'kala tikka' here and there, or not speaking about it, lest the 'evil eye' is cast on that good luck or happiness. Maybe it's true, maybe one shouldn't express such extremes of happiness no matter to whom, because it turns.

I'm a 'feeler', in that I feel everything, or almost everything, deeply. I laugh easily, I cry easily. I get hyper in happiness, and feel sadness with intensity. So it's difficult to reign it all in, which is why perhaps I am writing about this at all. It's difficult, but I'm learning.

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