Totalitarian regime of happiness

It is a general opinion among the people who do their research in gender and language/discourse that women tell about their problems because they just want to tell them and not because they want to find solutions to them. I must say that although gender studies is not exactly my favourite subject, I agree with this. Men, on the other hand, are keen on suggesting answers to women's worries and it is said to be one of the reasons of miscommunication between the two sexes. I think that this way of acting is not exclusive to men. (And why should it be?) I know quite a few of examples from the female specimen who tend to do the same... And it's only natural.

I have been sad lately. I'm not exactly sure if 'sad' is the correct term. Confused, disturbed, mental, hysteric or edging towards a mental breakdown might be closer to my actual state of mind but 'sad' sounds much clearer and easier to grasp. So yes, I've been sad. I have cried my share of tears but they do not seem to help. In the last desperate attempt I reached out to the person who, in theory, should be the closest person in my life... and all I got was 'Well, it's not that bad really, is it? Think more positively!' and a bunch of solutions. In other words, not what I needed. There are no solutions, at least not outside my own little head and it seems that the little elf responsible for the maintenance work up there has left and all the emotions and fears just keep accumulating. I wish that it was this one simple and concrete problem that occupies my poor brain because then there could be a simple answer and concrete solution. Alas, it is not so.
The only solution is just to work through these emotions, file them and put them back into the labeled drawers where they belong to and restore my peace of mind. It just might take a while.

So until then, I am very sorry, but I will be a little bit sad. Life might not seem to be a flower to me but more like a thistle. And I do know that we all have problems and I do understand that mine are no more important than anyone else's but they are... mine. And I really cannot not be sad right now. I don't always have the energy to talk about mundane things and pretend to be okay. Just don't force me into your regime of happiness and don't punish me for being sad. It's hard enough, you know.

(By the way, nothing serious has happened. I just really have a thousand and one tiny (insignificant) things that bother me at the moment and my current state of mind is the sum of these.)

Survival, Enquiry and Sophistication

These are the three stages every civilization goes through according to Douglas Adams. All these phases are characterised, respectively, by three questions: How?, Why? and Where?. I believe that the human race has remained stuck in the second phase mistaking it for sophistication. We keep asking the why-questions and looking for a reason for every little thing, instead of just leaning back and enjoying the roller coaster ride. Some of us, though, have moved one, but majority are still inhabiting phase Enquiry, myself included.

There are so many why-questions that I keep asking and so few answers. At least I have now learned not to confuse this with sophistication. If anything, then the complete opposite. Yet I cannot stop asking these stupid questions. Why, oh why... I know there are no answers. There is no waking up in the middle of the night because you see the light on in the kitchen and as you make it there you see a wise old man sitting with a steaming cup of tea. As the clock ticks towards the morning you ask all the questions and he answers every single one of them. So when the morning rays wake you in a room filled with clarity and you see the two cups on the kitchen table, you feel totally calm and ready to move on with life. No more questions and you know exactly what you are going to do. Your life is all settled.
Alas, no such wise man exists and it doesn't matter how many cups of tea I drink, the most result I get is waking up in the middle of the night because a certain small room is calling...

These whys keep haunting me, day and night. The biggest and flashiest of these questions is: Why do I keep torturing myself with those questions? Maybe someday...