How many times have you mentally
scoffed at the maddeningly annoying amount of noise your
we-take-this-route-together-everyday-whoopee neighbours on the morning bus
manage to make, all seemingly fused to form one continuous crap-spouting, mental-asylum-deserving
flexible body, and how many times immediately after that have you suddenly and
miraculously recalled similar embarrassing instances involving none other than
you and your equally insane friends (though you dare admit that to no one but
yourself. Learn to accept the hard truth.)? How many times have you condemned
one of your love-struck friends forever to the island of There-Is-Less-Hope-For-Her-Than-For-Manmohan-To-Wear-Yellow,
when she quite blindly chooses the wrong guy again, the stupid girl, and
two seconds later recalled every one of your own failed and, sadly, stupider
choices?
‘The
point?’ you may well ask (probably damning this same piece as a piece of shit
in your admirably well-read minds while secretly agreeing with every word, even
recalling similar ‘It’s informal!’ instances of your own ill-received,
it-hardly-qualifies-as-sense write-up). My entire point is to put on display (Aah.!)
the immovable I-was-born-this-way hypocrisy of the human mind which is
nevertheless acknowledged by itself, but never ever accepted. Or perhaps we were simply born senseless to our own
senselessness while aware with all our (six?) senses of the same in others.
Maybe we are selectively kindly and forgiving creatures, entirely
self-centered. Or all born misanthropists.
Whichever
the case, it matters not. The conclusion is always the same. Everyone else is
excessively stupid and oneself unimaginably superior in all one does. You RG
everyone in the vicinity and the first instance of it you face in a situation
unfavourable to you, you damn the person to the hottest confines of hell, the
disgustingly selfish, unendingly contemptible weirdo. Tell me I’m not right…
I
certainly don’t pretend to be an expert in any way or sense on the bizarre
workings of the human mind. I am merely an observer, who is herself not in any
way immune to the very human nature I’ve tried to describe above. I’m probably
more prone to that nonsense than anyone you know.
Besides
hypocritical, the mind seems to be a strange convoluted thing in more ways than
one. It’s downright perverted. Let me try and explain. Can you deny that at
least once in your life, probably too many times to remember, you have wanted
something, or alternatively, someone
with all you possess and on finally attaining the this-is-the-best-moment-of-my-life object of your desire, you’ve promptly
lost all interest in it? As long as it was dangling there, elusive, you wanted
it more than air (or so your utterly silly romantic heart whispered), and as
soon as you touched it, the be-gone-you-repulsive-error-of-creation mode of
your mind kicked in, effectively shattering the illusion.
Perhaps
we love the chase, not the finish. Perhaps we are strangely masochistic, and
the pain of denial excites us more than attainment. I’m inclined to chuck the
former goody-goody explanation off the nearest rooftop.
With no
effective conclusion in sight, I must abruptly sign off. There really is no end
to speculation on the varied stages of degradation every mind is in. One can
only hope the hypocrisy and perversion in oneself is muted at the surface.
Though we may as well be trying to actually die of boredom. Alternatively,
acceptance of oneself is, after all, supposedly the key to a happy life. Do I
really believe that? Of course not, it’s a large vat of bullshit.
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