I was engaging in some mostly useless thought a while back, mostly about a girl I was once involved with. It’s a familiar story to most jilted lovers, I suppose: dwelling on how the person who dumped you has moved on to someone even less worthy than you were.
I label these thoughts “mostly useless” because we tend to skew assessments of our own comparative worth. Either we think too much, or too little, of ourselves in relation to other people with whom we see ourselves competing. We rarely see the situation as it is.
Which isn’t to say I think I was wrong in the situation referenced by the haiku — just that it’s marginally possible I could have been ;)
(Incidentally, this is the handwritten version of my most recent haikubreakup submission)
I originally wrote a version of the above haiku a long while ago. This one’s different only in that I’ve changed two words (actually, just the same word changed twice) — and I’ve put it in handwriting (because that’s what I do these days).
As you might suspect, this haiku was born of heartbreak — something I’ve experienced once or twice in my life. Unlike some of the more useless poetry I’ve spawned, this one harbors what I consider to be one of the most important lessons I’ve learned about love (or being “in” it).
I submitted one of my old favorites to a site called haikubreakup, which I have to thank Albert for pointing out a couple weeks back. Haikubreakup has one of the truly great haiku concepts on the internet, and I highly recommend you check it out if you haven’t yet.
My submission, originally titled “grande mascara latte” (in honor of the scene that inspired it), was posted there last Sunday, where they gave it the imaginative title “from howard in philadelphia“.