It makes sense to me. I mean, have you ever read any Viking/Norse folklore? I'm certainly no expert, but I did check out a collection of them once. It was a hefty book. It was in the middle of the school year and I'm a schitzo reader anyway, so I never finished it, but I read enough to know that it's pretty dark stuff. I mean, their version of the flood story is most of humanity drowning in a god's blood.
Anyway, I definitely see how that plays into my life. I do feel like a have a dark streak in me sometimes. Maybe that's what makes me like minor music. And certain macabre humor. Maybe that's where my grim practicality comes from and my need for consistent solitude. Could be.
At the same time, I'm definitely not all dark. I have a sunny side to my personality, probably inherited from my mother. I feel like I'm an odd mixture of the two, light and dark, and I can never fully abandon either one. Besides being a cynic, I'm also an optimist. I'm certain that suffering will come in life, but I try not to let it bother me much when it does. Last summer when I was working as a camp counselor, I was told by one of my campers that she was surprised such dark humor was coming out of such a happy person. She said that I had a "hidden bite." I had just made a joke about telling children that Santa had been hit by a Mac truck, so I suppose I can see her point.
I recently wrote a poem about myself (although I do take some artistic liberties, so don't be quick to pin everything on me). It's still a bit rough, but since it goes so well with this theme, I think I'll have to include the unpolished version. I call it
I organize by color clothes that do not fit.
I love all kinds of music except this annotated list.
I love my meat so much that I eat it once a week.
My passion is for fashion shows I watch with un-heeled feet.
So studious I procrastinate,
So clean I live in piles.
I'm so happily sarcastic
That my cynicism smiles.
I love a crowded party followed by a silent room.
I'm very slow to anger but far-off hurts still make me fume.
I'm glad to have no break-ups but miss the new-love thrill.
I walk alone with gladness though my hand feels empty still.
I'm so hurt that I can only smile
And so weary that I'll go the extra mile.
So close, I never hug too long.
So sad, there's nothing ever wrong.
So happy that my laughter's on loan
And so strong that I only cry when I'm alone.