I wonder why my ego is so dominant that I feel compelled to
take showers anyway, rather than just becoming honestly smelly like people used to be
in the good old days.
I wonder why a recurring childhood nightmare is still
echoing all these years down the line.
I wonder where the recurring childhood nightmare came from.
I wonder whether, if I knew that, it would stop echoing.
I wonder whether getting drunk teaches you more about the
fundamentals of life and the human condition than going to school does.
I wonder whether having a high IQ is more of a curse than a
blessing.
I wonder why I’m always in such a terrible mood in the
mornings.
I wonder why injustice, be it personal or social, bothers me
more than most things.
I wonder why people don’t realise that money doesn’t actually
exist, but is just an abstract mechanism that can only function as long as
there’s common consent.
I wonder why people sometimes smile at me.
I wonder why YouTube is so good at persuading some of the
worst specimens of humanity to crawl out of the woodwork and give us the
benefit of their opinion.
I wonder why I feel guilty about hurting people’s feelings,
even when they’ve tried so hard to hurt mine first.
I wonder why I still do things which subsequently make me
feel guilty.
I wonder where Zoe Mintz lives these days.
I wonder why the writing of lists bores me.
I wonder whether I’ll regret posting this.
2 comments:
Does it also bother you to swim in a pool or the ocean? Just curious. I've never met anyone who had ... hydrophobia?
As for #2, I'd guess it's the same reason why I feel compelled to look presentable even if the only place I'm going is the library. There's a kind of suspension of disbelief that we're all complicit in. "Why yes, I wake up looking like this, and so do you. Humans naturally smell good, not bad."
Given the amount of bother that a high IQ can bring, I'd say that it would have to yield an income of $1 million or more (or the equivalent in social/personal capital) just to balance it out.
As for smiling at people, humans are naturally conditioned to do so in order to bolster the kind of social ties that better their chances at survival. They're not happy to see you, they're hoping that if you saw them in a ditch one day you'd be inclined to help them.
Tuesday is my cynical day it seems.
Swimming never bothered me, but entering the water did entail breaking through a slight psychological barrier. That's why it isn't a phobia - at least not hydrophobia. It's more of a sense of caution at changing state from dry to wet. Once I'm wet I'm quite happy to be so. I'm terribly aware of states.
I suppose it's a bit like watching a film where you start wondering whether the hero is ever going to go to the toilet.
I think it makes you prone to having chimpanzees constantly throw coconuts at you.
Thanks for the explanation. Now I can stop feeling guilty when people smile at me. And maybe it's a reason to stop bathing, since who the hell would want to be helped out of a ditch by a smelly person?
Tuesday must be one of my seven anti-social days.
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