http___margaretcho.com_hr_2012_07_31_worry__1.xml
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I might be a worrier to the wart degree, it’s true. I will sit here and obsess about diseases that no one has had for decades, using already tired search engines that don’t have any new answers for me since I asked the last time about the plague and polio. There’s no sense and no reason to it, and it isn’t like I ever truly suffer from symptoms, but oh how I love to worry and complain. My worry is a distant relative to my superstition. There’s a witchcraft to it, like if I worry over a thing, it is the key to its prevention. I will not be hit head on by the tragedy if I worry about it, or at the very least, since I have obsessed so much on it that it wouldn’t be so bad in the end because I have acclimatized myself to the idea. Worry wins every time. And the thing never happens. So why worry? I don’t know. It’s fun. What else would I do? Be happy? Meditate? I don’t know if this worry isn’t a meditation of a sort. There are worry beads, and they seem to be linked with meditation somehow so isn’t that the same thing? Is each bead supposed to represent a specific worry. How many worries would you have if you had a whole string of them? Maybe you would have to make some up so that your beads wouldn’t be wasted. Maybe worrying about not having enough worries for a whole string of worry beads is also a valid concern. Or it’s possible to have too many worries for just one string of beads so you’d have to have numerous strands, falling in various lengths all over your body, like a belly dancer at the turn of the last century.
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Možda ću biti mučitelj do bradavica stupnja, to je istina. Ja ću sjediti ovdje i opsjednuti bolesti koje nitko nije imao desetljećima, koristeći već umorne tražilice koje nemaju nikakve nove odgovore za mene jer sam pitao kad je zadnji put o kugi i dječje paralize. Nema smisla i nema razloga za to, a to se ne sviđa što sam ikada doista pati od simptoma, ali oh kako volim brinuti i žaliti. Moja briga je rođak moje praznovjerja. Tu je vračanje na njega, kao da sam brinuti preko stvar, to je ključ za njegovu prevenciju. Neću biti hit na glavu tragedijom, ako sam brinuti o njoj, ili u najmanju ruku, jer sam opsjednut toliko o tome da to ne bi bilo tako loše, na kraju, jer sam se priviknuti na ideju. Briga osvaja svaki put. A stvar nikada ne događa. Pa zašto brinuti? Ja ne znam. Bilo je zabavno. Što bi drugo da radim? Budite sretni? Meditirajte? Ja ne znam je li to briga nije meditacija o vrsti. Postoje brinite perle, i čini se da je povezana s meditacijom, tako nekako nije to ista stvar? Je li svako zrno trebao predstavljati određenu zabrinutost. Koliko brige bi li, ako ste imali cijeli niz od njih? Možda ćete morati napraviti neke gore, tako da vaše kuglice neće biti uzaludan. Možda brinuti o ne dovoljno brige za cijeli niz brige perli je valjan zabrinutost. Ili da je moguće imati previše brige za samo jedan niz perli, tako da bih imati brojne pramenove, pada u različitim dužinama po cijelom tijelu, poput trbušne plesačice na prijelazu prošlog stoljeća.