Thursday, December 04, 2003
Got woken up again tonight. Though this time it wasn't from troubled dreams, but rather some unruly friends of my housemates. I walked out of my room after being woken up to find a guy in his mid to late twenties screaming at his girlfriend, who had locked herself in my bathroom in order to hide. He didn't even notice I had walked in, as he started to knock down the bathroom door, while the blonde in the bathroom began to scream back at him. I don't even know these people... I just needed to use the bathroom. Tiredly listening to their argument, I started to notice that the enraged guy was not even yelling about anything particular to his girlfriend; he was yelling about himself. For some reason, it reminded me of Fromm's interpretation of Freud: "the individual appears fully equipped with biologically given drives, which need to be satisfied. In order to satisfy them, the individual enters into relations with other 'objects'. Other individuals thus are always a means to one's end, the satisfaction of strivings which in themselves originate in the individual before he enters into contact with others. The field of human relations... is similar to the market--it is an exchange of satisfaction of biologically given needs, in which the relationship to the other individual is always a means to an end but never an ends in itself." It's kind of sad that this seems especially true of most romantic relationships... at least in this culture.
Eventually David came back home and asked his friends to fight elsewhere. I walked into the bathroom, and by the time I came out Panna had appeared out of nowhere, frantically searching for her cell phone. I gave her phone a call, and some random man picked up, claiming he had mistaken her phone for his while he was in David's bedroom earlier in the night. Panna got his address and was about to leave to retrieve her phone, when David began to throw a tantrum demanding to escort her, as he didn't want his girlfriend to meet a man he didn't know in the middle of the night. I wondered why David had let such a stranger into his bedroom, as I watched his stereotypical heterosexual white male machoness swell up and burgeon, much like a certain part of the male anatomy. As if a 180 pound rower girl armed with a knife needed his protection. Panna initially resisted, but in the end looked rather satisfied as she left the door with David tagging along.
Mel, who had been a witness to the whole scene, looked rather glum as she went back to bed afterwards. I'm not sure if it was because David had left her for Panna a few months ago, or because as soon as David walked out the door, his dog decided to defacate in front of Mel's room.
Soon after Panna left with David to search for her cell phone, the blonde who I had seen in my bathroom earlier came back in, and nervously started to smoke while I devoured some toast. I listened to her mutter about her juvenile excuse for a boyfriend for a bit, though I think she was talking to herself and not really me. I had given up on sleep and half-heartedly started to watch the movie that had been playing, neglected, on TV.
The movie ended, and Panna returned triumphantly with David and her cell phone. Now I can hear David talking to Panna and another friend of his in the living room. Apparently his compensatory masculinity has not yet gone limp... "Why's everybody gotta get in my face, I'll fuck em up," I can hear him ranting. Maybe he's just drunk again. I don't mind David. I just respectfully disagree with American social norms, because to me, this twenty-five year old beefy white six-feet tall guy is not the epitomy of manliness he's taken for... just a quitessencially insecure little boy.
At the very least, he makes Panna happy, which is a nice change to see, after her gloom and despair from last semester. Whatever floats her boat... she is a rower after all.
And so, another sleepless night. Ironic how it turned out so silly... this particular night carries a certain significance for me, laden with heavy memories and ghosts from the past. But those are thoughts that I will face alone.
Eventually David came back home and asked his friends to fight elsewhere. I walked into the bathroom, and by the time I came out Panna had appeared out of nowhere, frantically searching for her cell phone. I gave her phone a call, and some random man picked up, claiming he had mistaken her phone for his while he was in David's bedroom earlier in the night. Panna got his address and was about to leave to retrieve her phone, when David began to throw a tantrum demanding to escort her, as he didn't want his girlfriend to meet a man he didn't know in the middle of the night. I wondered why David had let such a stranger into his bedroom, as I watched his stereotypical heterosexual white male machoness swell up and burgeon, much like a certain part of the male anatomy. As if a 180 pound rower girl armed with a knife needed his protection. Panna initially resisted, but in the end looked rather satisfied as she left the door with David tagging along.
Mel, who had been a witness to the whole scene, looked rather glum as she went back to bed afterwards. I'm not sure if it was because David had left her for Panna a few months ago, or because as soon as David walked out the door, his dog decided to defacate in front of Mel's room.
Soon after Panna left with David to search for her cell phone, the blonde who I had seen in my bathroom earlier came back in, and nervously started to smoke while I devoured some toast. I listened to her mutter about her juvenile excuse for a boyfriend for a bit, though I think she was talking to herself and not really me. I had given up on sleep and half-heartedly started to watch the movie that had been playing, neglected, on TV.
The movie ended, and Panna returned triumphantly with David and her cell phone. Now I can hear David talking to Panna and another friend of his in the living room. Apparently his compensatory masculinity has not yet gone limp... "Why's everybody gotta get in my face, I'll fuck em up," I can hear him ranting. Maybe he's just drunk again. I don't mind David. I just respectfully disagree with American social norms, because to me, this twenty-five year old beefy white six-feet tall guy is not the epitomy of manliness he's taken for... just a quitessencially insecure little boy.
At the very least, he makes Panna happy, which is a nice change to see, after her gloom and despair from last semester. Whatever floats her boat... she is a rower after all.
And so, another sleepless night. Ironic how it turned out so silly... this particular night carries a certain significance for me, laden with heavy memories and ghosts from the past. But those are thoughts that I will face alone.
