Sunday, 11 November 2012

Living in a kindergarten

I have a feeling of living in a kindergarten – in a broad sense of this a social phenomenon, of course.

Problems, even mine (self comes first, as they say) seem so pointless, appearing out of thin air, serving as an excuse for certain type of behavior or as a way of seeking attention, it's even disgusting how much time and attention is allocated to the fact of whining about life.. After all, people live in a way they find easier or in a way they want to.

In popular psychology, there is a point of view: a person tends to hate in others such qualities that he or she has and wants to get rid of them. Perhaps, this is the source of my intolerance. Their despair... it must be the only quality that I can't put up with in people.

The only quality that I hate in people, to be exactly, I absolutely despise in them, it's this goddamned position of a victim that they take, some sort of ideology of pointless despair and pessimism.

Real problems: it is when you're thirty-something and all you 've got is a fatal mix of being unemployed, living in poverty, having a small child (or even two), and a husband dying from prostate cancer. And, what's rather surprising, such people do not give up, they find their strength to acquire a steel shell and live happily in spite of everything, they find a solution each time and in every hopeless situation that life throws at them.

That's why, when my cat's ears hear someone's not reasonable enough whining, I want to start swearing not in a very lady-like manner and to cut them some limb... The reasons of their whining are very diverse - from extra kilogram on their butt and banal everyday problems to sacramental "God doesn't hear me"

Apparently,  something irreversibly changed in the last six months in my mind. I made a rule to whine only in periods of despair caused my female hormones, and even in those moments I feel like a fool when I whine.

To whine – it's like pitying yourself – it is degrading. Change, accept, or screw it.

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