I’ve for a long time seen myself as a bit of a fickle person. Someone that can go from adoring to indifference within a short space of time. I’ve learnt not trust any of my infatuations. Being so intense, everything just burns up fast. It’s to be feared and expected.
Obviously, it’s not a trait I enjoyed having, it gives me much grief. When it isn’t books or actors, but real people, it’s a terrible trait to possess. I try my best to behave, hoping no one gets the wrong end of the stick. I have for a long time had a two-month-rule, after which an infatuation might be investigated instead of dismissed outright, but before that, I must just behave myself, goddamit. I’m not very good at this. Sometimes I feel like there’s little I was very good at except bad things.
So the other day I got thinking contrarily. Wait one millisecond here. You say you’re flighty. Right now your favourite actors might be these two, but give you a Charlton Heston movie and it’s not much different even if you’re out of the active adoration phase. Um. Hmm. Yes! I love Charlton Heston just as before. And it seems that most of the actors I once enjoyed watching on screen, I still enjoy: Marcello Mastroianni, Kate Winslet, Keira Knightley, Vivien Leigh, Marlon Brando, Marilyn Monroe. The only ones who have lost that extra something would be Leslie Howard and Lauerence Olivier. I’m not sure why, but it is so.
Music. I never thought I’d be loving Elton John’s music as long as I have. It’s given me so much pleasure and comfort. I remember the times different songs came into my life and the places, seasons or people they now take me back to. Some good, some bad. But always, always, I’ve been afraid it won’t last. I was afraid of it in September and told myself to quit listening to him until spring. I quite failed in this (I needed my top cream cake to get me through school) but it hasn’t changed the adoration. I’ve had some weeks of not listening to any music but these have been short spells. Right now I’m trying to find something else to listen to until spring again, because I really don’t want to lose it. I suppose it explains why I take five years to finish Jean-Christophe too. And other mysterious behaviour normal people don’t understand and would find eccentric.
It’s like my good moods. I’m so afraid of losing them that every day I have more of it, I’m astonished, but I have less control, so I can do nothing to make it stay longer. With books and things, I can a bit.
Coming back to flightiness. I’ve been a fan of a few other musicians besides Elton John, mostly in teens and very early adulthood. Morrissey was my last at the age of 19-22. Most of them I’m always happy to rediscover. It’s fun how one still knows all the lyrics by heart. They don’t quite hold the same power over me as they did in the old days, but some of it is still there. Right now I’m listening to one of my high school favourites, Oasis, and thinking Slide Away is so very good, now replaying it for the 10th time or thereabouts. Gone much?
And with people, it’s also often true. Some of it is usually still there. I have soft spots for most people that meant something to me and did not disillusion or disappoint me to the point of no repair. It isn’t flightiness, but rather having the feeling settle down more to normal human being levels. I can’t really say I grow indifferent, as I thought I did, it is only the extremes that go. Seems such an obvious thing really, but I hadn’t thought of it so before and was feeling quite judgemental about myself.
So it’s not so much what happens after that I should feel guilty about, but rather continue to try and govern my extremes to the best of my pathetic ability.