The title for this blog has been lingering in my mind for a long time. You see, our countries, and our organizations, and the company we keep, and the nature of today’s exhibitionist culture almost compulsively radiate shameless, exuberant positivity and energy and optimism, all day, every day, glorifying the positive side of things, telling happiness to be a choice. You see, there are so many blogs out there overflowing with bliss from all the exciting life opportunities and inspiring people and mind-opening travel experiences.
Whatever happened, I kept thinking, to good, old gloominess? To pleasurably reveling in self-pity, to cherishing melancholy, to relishing resignation – art forms once celebrated by the most refined thinkers and artists and writers? There should be, I kept thinking, a sacred place, a hidden little spot where there is room for us pessimists. Resignators. Towel-in-throwers. Glass-half-empty-seers. Not a place to look at all the big, majestic catastrophes, either (that is too easy). But a place where we could collect, and admire, and accept, and sometimes just feel warmly, pleasantly defeated by, all life’s ugly, and strangely beautiful little things.