I was saying to Mel tonight that anything I feel strongly
drawn to, as opposed to merely liking, always brings with it a degree of
frustration. Be it a person, a landscape, a piece of music, a particularly favourite
item of food or drink – there’s always a nagging sense that beyond what I’m
seeing or hearing or tasting or feeling, there’s a hidden essence which would
make the experience complete. And I never find it.
* * *
I wish I hadn’t thought about vegetable samosas while I was
taking a shower tonight. As wonderful as hot buttered toast is, it doesn’t
quite match the meltingly magical appeal of a vegetable samosa. Then again, it
isn’t as frustrating either.
2 comments:
I know just what you mean about that frustration but have never seen it verbalized before.
Shall we form a club or keep it unofficial?
I'm driven by an almost manic need to verbalise almost everything that occurs to me. It's probably a recognised condition.
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