It’s easy to talk about people’s failures especially if they’re not closely related to us. That way, there’s little chance for embarrassment from being caught. Ironically, they usually find out about it anyway and we don’t really learn our lesson every time they do.
Maybe at core, sans regards to norms and mores, we really meant to be rude (I already talked about that here).
I find it a little difficult to believe she (?) finds it rude when people talk not so nicely about her.
Months have passed since I last hung out with my friends. Like always, we kid, we chat about what’s going on with who, show business’s latest fails, and of course, the latest gossip – oftentimes about people we always see but never really talk to (thus, not getting the whole picture, which in turn makes it the more interesting to speculate about their closet skeletons). They’re simply the easiest targets.
It’s all really easy and fun! For a while.
Then you go blurt out one stupid line concerning religion’s flaws/increasing number of beggars/worsening state of the environment/a really awesome graphic novel/psychological explanations behind people’s behaviors/relationship between heavenly bodies and character traits/ballooning rates of divorce and abortion/the horrors of the economic environment/the justice system’s impending collapse/other things you’d WISELY not mention in a light chitchat over ice cream – and everyone turns silent.
At least for three seconds.
Then there would be those genuinely curious/concerned who respond with a question or an honest opinion about it. But 90% of the group will usually either stare at you as if they’ve seen someone who wears a denim shorts in a formal dinner (it surely isn’t illegal?) or maybe develop a sudden, very profound interest in a single focal point – usually their fingers or the floor.
It’s vastly irritating.
I also know I would probably regret that line since there still is a slight chance one or two of my darling friends will be reading this. But then so be it. Everyone must know how it feels to be an outcast once in a while. After all, we all exert efforts (consciously or otherwise) to fit in every single day of our lives. It’s simply unrealistic to, or expect to, succeed every time.
I know I don’t.
Eeyore loves his friends. He just finds it a tad gloomy when they don’t get his ideas even though they seem to really try to. Still, friends ARE friends.
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