Yesterday I didn’t write. Sometimes taking a break from everything and relaxing can be really fruitful. I’m off alcohol for now, health issues, and reading a lot of everything. What I enjoy mostly these days? Behavioural psychology. Herd mentality and individuality. Curious. How people behave under certain circumstances. Also influenced by peers, social capital and habitus.
Out of my many obsessive favourite readings, one simply happen to be analysing behaviours after breakups. It is fascinating. You can see a persons past behavioural pattern towards near and dear ones, clearly reflect on their present attitudes and actions. To be honest, in myriad of ways, and if someone is looking to save face, then yes, an ex will say or do anything to show that they are over and above – yet they hold feelings of bitterness, or simply unhappy because somewhere deep within they want to get back together but know their own fault and mistakes, and that the ship sailed!
Regret is a slow cooker. Its whistle blows with every bit of cooked guilt boiling out as irritated reactions. Or maybe, just maybe, these ex’es simply want to maintain their pride? I love seeing their behaviour (action/reaction), after their breakups that they initiated in the first place. Fascinating. Ex’es are fascinating creatures.
Perhaps this was in my head along with miniature illustrations by Merlot, his personal stammbuch is a marvel to behold. It’s his old-fashioned yet most creative way to a blog – journaling, immaculately curated over the years, mostly with illustrations and some personal inventions. He’s an artist. I admire him.
So when I came home, and reflected back, I realised that I always understood emotional not-eating but emotional floating in the sky with the tail of my peacock feathered silver turban flying? What was interesting was pastel sky, and hand sketched clouds. Almost cartoon like. Momentary landing in valleys of flowers – bees the size of tennis balls and butterflies landing on Poochie’s nose – again very much sketched and cartoon like – inauthentic in all its way. My amygdala went full blown mandala at one time. Something along the lines of: Bakery hotel, an open calm lorry loves driving through gate!
Exhaustion from dreaming is real.
ANTHROPOLOGY OF LOVE 