"Ron stared glumly out of the window in the hospital wing. It was raining. It always rains in literature whenever the character the author is focused on is glumly staring out of a window. This fanfiction is no different and you will find many little gems of unoriginal cliches." (The Madness of Mr. H. J. Potter, 2004)
It's storming. Well, storming in the Utah sense. The sky is gray, it's drizzling, and there are a few isolated thunder rumblings. And it smells reeeal good.
My roommate just said, "It's such good timing. When you're sad, the sun is mocking how you feel. But the rain just fits. Because I feel melancholy."
She's not staring glumly out the window, though: she keeps running to the doorway and reveling in the misting.
I was just picturing my roommate being the main character of life. What a crazy world that would be.
And as for the cause of that melancholy that has blessed this desert with a bit of rain today: "Perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncritically--to those who hardly think about us in return. ...a woman could wait too long for victory--she could be too old to enjoy it. It could be senseless to go on waiting for a joy, when joy was on the doorstep, and Time hurried by." (The Once and Future King)
Too much exposure to the ecstatic agonies of unrequited love (as found in Austen) can be dangerous.
But, that's just me.
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2 comments:
Amen. My sister is one of those who sits about waiting for the perfect man to appear, without actually knowing what "perfect" would entail for her.
And who says the rain is melencholy? Rain has no feeling unto itself. We project our emotions onto it. To prove my point, check out my blog where my kids and I project some awesome times on the rain!
I'm fedaykin's friend, btw, not some crazy. Wait . . .
Your post is tangential slashes of thought, riposte after unbalancing riposte. My head hurts. Or maybe it's just monday and my brain is still off, that and my killer hangover. I dunno. It sounds like I would revel in the tragic beauty of Ms. Austen. "ecstatic agonies" ahh, delicious prose.
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