About My Flattened Ego
I find the world to be an inscrutable place. Okay, I get it—blanket statement. But seriously, explain something to me. Anything. Even if you do, I’ll wonder how anybody figured said thing out, and the wheel of imponderability will continue to roll forth, flattening whatever ego I once considered at my disposal.
This is probably a good thing. The world should seem uncanny. Mysterious. Mystical. Heck, frigging magical.
It helps to realize that existence is a proverbial sphinx. (Not the one in Egypt) It warms up the creative process. For instance, I try to notice couples when I’m walking around downtown or eating in a restaurant. This is highly inscrutable stuff. You don’t need much imagination to get a sense of wonder and astonishment when it comes to couples. Some questions that you ask yourself but pretend not to:
How did she end up with him?
How did he end up with her?
Was he skinny when they met?
Is this like her last chance marriage or something?
What could those two possibly be talking about?
Does he know she’s in it for the money?
Does she know he knows she’s in it for the money?
When and how did the universe bring this combo together?
And so it goes.
The world can be cruel and unforgiving. I know the cold better than some, not as well as others. That said, don’t call it boring. Things are too weird to be boring. Do the couples thing next time you’re out and about, and just see where your mind goes. Boom. That’s like a billion fresh questions for you, right there. After that, perhaps move on to things that actually matter. You’ll really be banging your head on those. Existence is a cryptic son of a gun. Not that I’m any different. Surely I look like a murky, unanswerable question to everyone that’s not me. I’d have to agree. I’ve got the inside track, and I still don’t know what or who the heck I am.
See? Inscrutable. But inscrutable is good for exploring. The sphinx asks questions. Ask them right back. Stupid sphinx.
Cheers and see you after.