One Mushpot of Gossip

Recipe for Gossip Mushpot
1. Bring one pot of water to a boil.
2. Add the peeled and diced assortment of rumors - violence, sex, drugs, alcohol, etc. - to your own preference
3. Allow stew to simmer for hours until you are nauseated by the revelation that these stories are actually true.

.....

The Yinnster kindly commented today that the majority of my posts are utterly depressing. She has also noted that I do not appear the least bit "emo" in person.

I suppose I do have a fascination with "morbidity." I like reading Poe's works (although I can't say "The Fall of the House of Usher" was extraordinarly outstanding; I still prefer "A Tell-tale Heart"). But the Yinnster did have a good point - this entire whatchamacallit is dripping with the figurative blood "emo" poets want to write their poetry with. I like to poke fun at those cheery artists, but that just proves how hypocritical I can be.

So just for the Yinnster, I will attempt to dehabiller my black asthma-induced Darth Vader costume. (on second thought, Vader was not particularly depressing. villians, with their cacophonous evil laughter, always seem to be having more fun than the good guys.)

.......

naturally, as journalists, the kids in journalism enjoy gossip.

okay, the "kids" i am referring to consist of only three specific individuals, including moi, but i'm sure the others are just as inclined to poke their noses around. there is nothing as captivating as the scent of a juicy piece of leverag- i mean, a juicy story. scent of a woman? psh. scent of a clandestine secret that could wipe said woman's public dignity off the face of the earth? bring it!

i will not name specific people or divulge what i have learned today. i will say, however, that the three of us pretty much pooled all our kills into one big mush pot of rumors. in general, our culmulative newfound knowledge could be divided into Light and Dark, thus proving Forrest Gump's theory that life is like a box of chocolates. Light included the good-natured, harmless pieces. Dark, on the otherhand, would have made a blackmailer giddy with pleasure. the dark stories described the vices of various other students - if each one wore their sins on their chests, we would have the whole alphabet in scarlet letters.

the three of us each added our own ingredients to the nauseating stew, and we took new stories from out of the pot as well. some, i discovered, were more shocking than the others. the one about people i'd already suspected came as no surprise. then there were the ones that had the effect of the electric fly-swatter my piano teacher would flail around wildly whenever a buzzing fly sounded. as in shocking.

i've been stewing over (haha) my newfound knowledge for a while now, and i still cannot understand why these people decided to commit themselves to such ridiculous decisions. Common Sense has all but packed its bags and booked the nearest flight to Tahiti.

WHY?

as far as i can tell, all of it is motivated by the desire to be "cool", so they can brag about their excursions to anyone who cares to listen. can you imagine starting a conversation with the guy next to you on the plane with that sort of story? now THAT's an icebreaker.

i don't know why, and now, i don't really care why they decided to do those things. it is beyond me why anyone would want to be addicted to anything or to fool around with someone and leave their heart on a silver platter. c'est la vie, i suppose. but c'est ta vie fucked-up, not mine.