will i feel better if
this room could turn into
an aquarium with corals?
/
would it be better if the
sun spared my window
just for today?
/
is it okay if i can
sleep in my jeans
and not turn off the lights?
/
do you listen to movie OST’s
playing in the background
imagining endless storylines?
/
do you wish you lived
in a hill-station with conifers
poking you in your balcony?
/
do you drink in stained mugs
or cups with mismatched
saucers with hairline cracks?
/
will it be okay if I ask
you to walk with me to
nowhere in particular?
/
because somewhere in my
mind I think if you leave
this time, I’ll lose you as
my best friend forever.
/
i wish i could tell you
this instead of sending silly
instagram hearts.
/
but there is nothing more
i hold dear than finding
your hipster messages telling
me to rule the world
/
and there is nothing better
than seeing your smug smile
every time I feel lost.
/
just promise that beneath
the Italian sky, you’ll
remember to laugh at
everything that happens
good, bad, mad, rad.
When I heard about my friend’s book deal, I wanted to be happy for her—really, I did. Sharon* had spent months laboring over a heartfelt essay about her traumatic childhood, and the piece was published to wide acclaim. Now she had landed a contract to turn the story into a memoir for a sum so enormous it could buy my house twice. I should have been celebrating her success. Instead, I was busy hunting for reasons she didn’t deserve it. Envy can be an ugly emotion. A study published in the journal Science showed that it actually activates a region of the brain involved in processing physical pain. No wonder people go to such lengths to ignore or deny the emotion. Yet it’s nearly impossible to dodge, because envy is an inevitable consequence of the comparisons we seem programmed to make. Researchers have found that when you put a group of strangers in a room, they start to assess each other almost immediately. “Whether you’re aware of it or not, most people are automatically sizing up the crowd—who’s smarter, who’s tougher, who’s more beautiful,” says Richard Smith, PhD, editor of the anthology Envy: Theory and Research. “We’re all different, and those differences matter.” But—contrary to popular belief—feeling envious isn’t always a bad thing. Psychologists have identified two very distinct kinds of envy: malicious and benign. Malicious envy is bitter and biting, driven by a need to make things equal, even if that means tearing another person down. Benign envy, on the other hand, has an aspirational aspect—you think, “If she can do it, maybe I can, too.” Though the feeling is still unpleasant, it’s tinged with admiration rather than resentment. In a study published last year, economists at the University of East Anglia found that malicious envy stifled innovation among farmers in four villages in rural Ethiopia. During experimental games, the farmers were often willing to sabotage their peers, even at their own expense. As the sabotage became more widespread within a community, farmers were less likely to adopt new practices, for fear that they would be targeted by their neighbors. Meanwhile another 2011 study, done in the Netherlands, revealed benign envy as a powerful motivational force. Researchers at Tilburg University discovered that—compared with feelings of malicious envy and pure admiration—benign envy led students to dedicate more time to their schoolwork, and perform better on a test that measures intelligence and creativity. 
{blinks} 