At a Loss for Words to Express How You Feel? Here Are 8 of the Weirdest
Emotional vocabulary hit a new low when a D’Amelio sister went out singing (and I quote): “I was really, really, really, really, sad.”
I don’t think she has the emotional range of a toaster — she simply lacks the words for more nuanced emotions.
Like the nostalgia for knowing you won’t get to see the future. Or the liberation of having zero responsibilities. Or the anticipation of guaranteed success.
We have words for all three of those — and more. You won’t find them in a letters soup, I promise you that.
The melancholic realization that we won’t be able to see the future.
Ellipsism is what I experience when I think about space travel.
I’m talking about the elegant period of space travel. Not the early missions where we’ll shoot a flock of early adopters in a rocket-powered tin can, hoping they land on Mars before radiation cooks them into chickpeas.
I’m talking sight-seeing vacations to the moons of Saturn — reclinable sits, leg space, champagne, recreational zero-G. You could say I’m really, really, really sad for knowing I won’t make it that far.
Sense of relief that comes from caring less about things.
Besides being the perfect name for your psychobilly post-punk indie band, liberosis is exactly what some of us, neurotic workaholics, need more of.
It could be my only reason for “awakening my inner child.” Screw their indefatigable enthusiasm and annoying sense of wonder: all I want is the carefree lifestyle that only infants and dogecoin millionaires can afford.
Pleasure derived from anticipating success.
If you ever tricked a little cousin or nephew into playing a game of Monopoly — that is it.
It’s hard not to anticipate success when you’re up against someone who’s clearly never known the pressure of having to mortgage your properties to pay the rent of one of the blue ones.
Also, they’re terrible at math, so you can pretty much sack the bank in their little faces. How not to feel nikhedonia?
Solitariness for missing something or someone you love.
Basically, it’s what Matt Damon felt when he was away from his family in Saving Private Ryan.
Or when he was away from the planet in The Martian.
Or when he was very, very far away in whatever constellation he got stranded in during Interestellar.
The point being, Hollywood has drained trillions in rescue missions for Matt Damon, but not a single penny trying to come up for a word that summed up how the man felt. Well, now we have one.
A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.
This is where all your devastating comebacks and eloquent counterpoints go to hide when you desperately need them to win an argument.
They’ll only return once you’re home, hanging laundry and cursing your slow mind. A good jouska is the best you can hope for.
Not all of us get to be a Groucho Marx or a Don Rickles, I’m afraid.
An intense feeling of being on the very brink of a powerful epiphany, insight, or revelation.
You guessed it: a presque-vu is both French and the less-successful sibling of déjà vu, which owes its fame to that line about bugs on The Matrix.
Presque vus is much more common though; it’s when you almost remember something, except it sounds more sophisticated than saying “it’s on the tip of my tongue!”
Avoiding that tired cliche will be a win for language.
Intense arousal when making eye contact.
Not all eye contact is arousing. In elevators is a no-no. If it happens in a subway station across the railway, you’re very likely a spy and the bad guys have caught up with you.
But when it is arousing, we now have a word for it, apart from the very clear bodily signal.
For once, it was fitting not to keep it in our pants and take it to the thesaurus. Or as the saying goes, “if you liked my Poker face, you should see my opia gaze.”
Sickness or indisposition resulting from an excess of drinking (or eating).
This is now my favourite word.
It’s a shame I won’t get to use it often, as my intermittent fasting and nonexistent drinking habits make me too much of a bland drag to feel any crapulence at all.
Besides, I got enough of it in my early twenties. Crapulence was not a mood, it was a season back then. Lucky I didn’t know the word though, cause had I opened my mouth I would’ve probably barfed on the carpet.