Gossip

I don't think I ever quite understood why people, including myself, enjoy gossiping so much.

I never considered myself a gossiper until last night, when I had nother better to do but to think. To think about nonesense, and to mock the ironies of life in general. Inevitably my mind traveled back to a certain conversation I had listened to and participated in. The subject was about a relative of mine, who unfortunately lives in a very dysfunctional family.

The trouble with this is the fact that conciously, I detest gossiping, and yet I seem unable to not do it. It is one of the fastest conversation starters, most dramatic topics to talk about, and most of all, it somehow made people feel better about themselves.

I guess that's really the trouble: gossip allows us to feel better about ourself by secretly agreeing with others about how so-and-so is such a screwup.

This brings up an interesting point: when is it really gossip? What is the line that separates gossiping from story telling?

This is a question I have yet to understand. The answer eludes me whenever I seem close to grasping it, and unfortunately, this is one question that might prove too difficult for me to answer.