averages

i'm sitting outside, smoking a cigarette and feeling the phantom blood pooling in my gums, feeling the pulse of it in my fingertips. i listen to the crickets and the occasional truck passing by on the main road. i'm overcome with that familiar 1am urge to make something of my life, which i know i wont right now. but i care that i feel it. i've been told many times that my big feelings are a blessing, even when they bring me pain. that without the depths of my capacity to be upset, i'd not be able to have the equal depth of joy. for a long time, i believed this. i understood that all happiness is a product of its contrast with sadness, with grief. i advocated this to other people who felt as big as i do. i don't think i believe that anymore. to slightly paraphrase perhaps my favourite ursula le guin quote; "The trouble is that we have a bad habit of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist; a…

Commenting on Bubbles has been removed. Why? If you want to talk about this post, write to the author, use the comments on their blog if it has them, or reply with a "RE:" post on your own blog. Suggestions? feedback@bubbles.town