Monday, February 02, 2009

No. 1

RULES: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

(To do this, go to “notes” under tabs (+) on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.)

Sometimes I would rather not know you or even know you existed.

Though not everybody, enough people can throw screws into my machinery, with as little effort as lying on ones side, as to make me miserable for many hours. And I think this:
“I would rather not even know you existed.”

And what does whoever do to have me kicking my legs as if I were clutching to some branch high in a tree?
Not much. Really. Chatter mostly.
Some people, enough of them, think I, and everybody, care enough about them that we will listen to them describe their lunch. But I, and everyone, don't care uniformly and most completely.

I am astonished by the act however, and do tend to obsess over it. I read and listen to people's lunch descriptions, or tales of alcohol consumption, though I can stop or walk away but I wait for them to explain why they are sharing this. When do they reveal why I should care?

They don't, never do, and I still don't care about what they put into themselves except for the fact they are telling me without solicitation.

This does broaden out to areas beyond other lives inane details. I tend to wish people out of my memory who are not calibrated to reality as objectively as a human can, given such madness.
[I ask for a simple awareness, not for people to erect shrines in the memory of history's victims, but just for the understanding to recognise a donkey when one is being sold as a horse.]
There tends to be a tolerance of external hypocrisy and internal dissonance when there are sufficient distractions in ones life. Christmas time is confusion and excess, for example, and sums the worst of humanity into an annual ritual. It's a repeatable, verifiable experiment on modern, western cultures failings and... well...


It's clear I'm not great with the self-absorbed section of humans. That's the message. The two examples above, and unspoken others, tally to that conclusion, ironies and evidence of self-hate aside.
You are free to exist but I would rather not know about it.

(Yeah. 24 more of these. Lets hope some are good.)

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