FLAME ON

I find it interesting how often the subject of light in its many forms is related to people in one way or another. And when it comes to some aspect of human experience to be on fire or well lit is a good thing.

Conversely, cold, which isn't the opposite of light, is not a good thing in terms of people. Being cool can be okay, but cold is to be utterly frozen in one's emotions and that isn't regarded as a good thing.

Now we probably wouldn't even need such differences if people were just people in terms of being similar, but we aren't. And so we end up wanted to define when someone is alive from when they are emotion zombies.

As I see it being a person with a flame on is someone full of passion and intensity. Which doesn't describe a lot of people. And I think that is part of the problem.

We may flame on as a good thing. We make a lack of flames as bad. Why we even paint that portrait in our movies. The good guys and the ones you truly want to be like are always the life of the party.

It is sort of like if you are a quiet and reasonable person, you're boring. Now you might not be quite as exciting as some, but that doesn't make you a bad person.

The problem to me is not with the good time party animals. They are going to party no matter what. They seem to enjoy life.

What is said I guess is how the boring and dull people are left to feel like they are social losers for not being exciting. So often as a result they can't accept that status so they end up trying to pretend they are interesting.

Which is fine if they didn't bore with it. I mean do I really need to listen to some accounting trying to be a comedian by telling a joke poorly? And then he gets upset if I don't laugh my head off.

Oh that is just one aspect. I'm telling that at times I feel like I'm a magnet for dullards. Just because I'm a politician and a Mayor doesn't mean I love having to put up with every darn boring person in the world who has no social life.

But I can hardly tell them that. If I did they would get worse. The loneliness would fester itself into a major pity me feast.

Then I would be the designated shoulder to cry on. Which would only inspire them to even more need to come and see me.

So I've learned to laugh at boring jokes. I've learned to look excited when being shown pictures of somebody's collection of things you never collect if you have a social life. In the end, I keep telling myself it is a living. Someday maybe I'll even believe it too.