Point, counterpoint. Incomprehensible, I should hope.

So, I'm working on this structure. At first, quite unintentionally.

Lala. Red. lal la. ----------------- Blue. //

Lala. Girls. lal la. ---------------- Boys. //

Lala. Fathers. lal la. ---------------- Mothers. //

Di-di-dum lala. Blue. ------------------ Red. //

...but later, I'm starting to think it's one of my key styles... it's obtuse and quite well-hidden but definitely identifiable.

Rubbish description, but vague enough, for my purposes.

But perhaps life decided this pattern for me. It happens, it always happens.

The standard format is:

La-la. Happiness. happyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappy. SAD.

but variations include:

La-la. Love. lovelovelovelovelove. HEARTBREAK.
Di-dum. Girlfriend. girlgirlgirlgirlgirlgirlgirl. SINGLE. (or, perhaps boyboyboySINGLE)
&
Ta-rah. Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes. NOOOOOOOOOOOO.

But then I start to wonder if it's actually a symmetrical event?

Sadnesssssssssssssssssss.------------ > Happiness. ---------> Sadnesssssssssssssssssss.

With the good thing in the middle, obscuring my sight of the bad. Is happiness a tangible emotion, something which can be affected with permanence?

Or need it only ever be the eye of the storm?

Makemeloveyou, makemeloveyou, makemeloveyou, forcemeto... oh there you go?

I'll try this as a poem. Perhaps comprehensible but wilfully obscure is preferable.

Oooooh, something to [blog] about. -- A Happy Blog.

Yeah, lame About a Boy / Badly Drawn Boy reference.
But I guess, it is about one.
Then again isn't it always?

Coming back from holidays, to Oxford, my mood has been soaring continually higher and higher. Here's an episode from Brighton, to illustrate how heart-wrenchingly awful it all is.

Scene: Ext. club. Dark, dingey, hazy with cigarette smoke, lit with purple, loud with muffled music.
Me: [spewing out months-old confession] I love you.
Them: I love you too.
Me: Really?
Classical music rises, lighting warms, camera pulls in for closeup.
Them: Yes!
[they kiss]
Music suddenly stops.
Old man drug dealer: Hey.
[other two kiss, and grope]
Black and white.

Anyway. All is well. All is good. Mock exams went smoothly, I think. Real exams are set to go well enough. I am seeing myself positively more often. I haven't actually been sad in a while.

Naturally, when I am writing (not for blogs, but for possibly commercial end) the entire tone is inflected with a sort of wistfulness, which I'm fond of.

I feel like on the horizon of this beautiful lake I'm sailing on, there is something that I really want to happen. Which is set to happen. Which has the possibility to be magnificent. I'm not like, raving about this in person to people, but I feel like everything is about to Go Right For Me.

So, why am I waiting?