I bake myself chocolate cake and feel happy. As I cleaned the kitchen, clearing the counter top, washing all the dishes in the sink, putting back the utensils back to their places, a surge of happiness rose within me. Earlier this morning I have felt the same too, while listening to Pheonix’s new album, Entertainment, cleaning my room, donning my prescription sunglasses. I feel empowered with these chores, and is never the happier with a lifetime of cleaning and cooking. After all, I am a woman.
Around ten i rode my bicycle to A’s house, and opened her tub full of Malteasers, and we both walked to the university to play badminton. I did not want to take the bus, because I hated waiting and loved walking. A paid for me because I was nearly broke. Over here, I slammed the shuttlecock as much as I could before I was tired and tried talking to the woman I played with. She was from Sri Lanka, and she has a PhD. She must be exceptionally smart, and so I become a little disheartened by all the high achievers around me. I remind myself that everyone is good and everyone has their own provisions in the world, and so do I. I become happy again after walking and riding in the sun. I am listening to the Velvet Underground.
At home I try to sleep a little and read De Beauvoir’s The Ethics of Ambiguity. Man feels powerful with all his achievements, the rational man, far above all living things, capable of all things – yet at the same time feel powerless in his insignificance in the universe, in the collective whole. This, she says, is ambiguity, and proceeds to Hegel, Sartre, Kierkegaard. I just nod my head a little and play Candy Crush.
perkaraperkara 