The trumpet's voice, loud and authoritative,
Draws me a moment to the lighted glass
To watch the dancers - all under twenty-five -
Solemnly on the beat of happiness.
- Or so I fancy, sensing the smoke and sweat,
The wonderful feel of girls. Why be out there ?
But then, why be in there? Sex, yes, but what
Is sex ? Surely to think the lion's share
Of happiness is found by couples - sheer
Inaccuracy, as far as I'm concerned.
What calls me is that lifted, rough-tongued bell
(Art, if you like) whose individual sound
Insists I too am individual.
It speaks; I hear; others may hear as well,
But not for me, nor I for them; and so
With happiness. Therefor I stay outside,
Believing this, and they maul to and fro,
Believing that; and both are satisfied,
If no one has misjudged himself. Or lied.
I studied this poem in english this year, its by Philip Larkin. I find it quite compelling as I myself go through the dilemma of the persona in this poem at the moment. I see other people around me in relationships and long to be in one myself but at the same time I don't really want to. I'm quite happy on my own with all my friends and there's nobody that really makes me feel that I would love to be in a relationship with them(Well, maybe one but I like her more as a friend and don't want to ruin anything). So for now, I "stay outside" watching the to and fro of those turning, sometimes awkwardly, through their courtship dances. Such is my life, an observer. Rarely involving myself in the affairs of others (or at least trying not to) because it usually blows up in my face.
So yeah...this blog has gone almost nowhere... I do hope I haven't misjudged myself. Or lied.
