bursting into tears when reading The Friend by Sigrid Nunez.
Not those sorrowful ones but out of rage.
This is the reason I stopped reading/watching fictions
after I pulled myself away from you.
They are triggering,
but even so I wouldn’t have thought it’d be such a close resemblance.
such as how you can’t be alone,
that you rarely sleep alone in years.
how you prey on people’s admiration and vulnerability
with your knowledge and the mentor position.
even the casual demeanors
It’s painful to read she went through the agony and reconciled with him
it doesn’t require him to lift a finger,
which angers me.
What’s worse is who can I confide with about how I feel,
what I went through with this book?
You, and only you.
Because I often have a hard time being friends with those
who’s sentimental and cultured enough
to understand the state of being moved by art works.
These people often find me too harsh,
disregarding their sentiments for their “bubbles”
and I find them incapable of recognizing the fact/truth.
whether you like the fact/truth or not
that’s a separate topic / irrelevant
However incapable is just insufferable.
(S holds doctorate in science
and has extensive knowledge and appreciation for arts
after all he was coming from B.A. not B.S.)
It took me a long time to start to accept, sort of, that
it would be extremely unlikely
to have meaningful exchanges between people who do not have
a matching level of intellect capacity.
It’d be just as ridiculous as Olympians plays with me,
someone who’s clumsy at sports.
That could not be qualified as a game.
想起P有次说科学家和(纯)艺术家其实很相似
they just differ in their means
再怎么无法认同价值观
也无法否认他思考能力的优秀
这句话毫无疑义证明这点
…
I guess trying to match the surface is never the answer.
that’s where the mismatch coming from.
某个程度上我不太理解为什么那在对方眼里算是磨合的范围
甚至不知道why/what I am responsible for things (their assumption)
that I didn’t even request / or consider as a requirement.
There is something that doesn’t align at all
but I still couldn’t quite fathom.