Lemme tell ya...another infamous mid-essay blog.
Have you ever eaten four creamy caramels at one time?
I thought not.
It's kind of disgusting. You end up opening and closing your mouth to ridiculous proportions, and it kind of hurts your teeth, because let's face it, sweets hurt our teeth now, we're at that age. But just when you're on the verge of spitting all that overly sweet piercingly painful goo out, you swallow it and that brown sugary mass just slithers down your throat and sits in your stomach, no doubt encapsulating that hard technicolored rock of gum your mother always told you would stay there forever. And it's kind of warm feeling, and it reminds you of that time when you were little when you and your brother melted all those really nasty wax wrappered toffees from your halloween bag into one large lump. You rolled it into a huge sticky ball and stuck it in the freezer and later threw it from your brother's bedroom window and watched it shatter onto the sidewalk like your mother's good crystal could have. And you both learned your first valuable lesson about digestion. "That can't be good..."
Thinking about the human mind tonight has made me realize the interesting dichotomy I have as far as all my past love fixations have gone. It runs one out of two ways each time. Primarily, I'm attracted to brains. Big shiny gobs of myelin sheathed grey matter. The more the merrier- I delight in complexity. But the funny thing is, when I'm attracted to the personality and all the stuff that races around in some person's brain, I sort of forget about their appearance. It never manifests itself as important, and sometimes I'm shocked when I sit back and realize, "oh yeah, this person is also physically attractive. Huh?"
On the other side of things though, I can be totally enamoured of someone based on their physical looks, and forget that they have brains. Contrarily though, these attractions are very fleeting and never last very long. They don't trouble me, and I never care which way they go, unless perhaps, I have been misled (ok, ok, misled myself?) into a relationship where grey matter became of secondary importance all of a sudden. Which is never healthy, and causes me to run away like a school girl being pursued by pedophiles with cellphone cameras.
What I've realized though, is that somehow I have become more ...what is the word... subjected to the latter of the two, because those brains that I so crush on hard, are much to smart for me. But then I realize, I can't just keep running away from the uninspiring clods, and I wonder what to do. What to do, what to do?
But with the latter situation, I wonder if it is my hormones that consistently lead me into battle to crush the hearts of the innocent. And by hormones, I don't mean my monthly flashes of insanity. I mean the bits that have me fantasizing about a certain rose colored mister at any given point of the day. I shouldn't be constantly thinking about him in a compromising sexual position should I? I should be thinking about how great of an intellect he is, how much I love hearing him speak, how much we click mentally, how much of a shy innocent I feel like when I'm around him. But do you think I could push naughty thoughts out of my head for an instant? NO. And it worries me that I can't, because what if I've been misleading myself towards all the intellectual aspects, and all I really have left are the physical things that I keep thinking about? What if I'm wrong and I don't give it enough time to find out? What if I'm right and I stick around too long? It's all very confusing.
I saw a woman at the smoke shop in front of me today, who had the most bizarre looking bum. She was wearing much too tight jeans, and had a really sort of round but flat bum, the non-descript sort of saggy kind. But, (and do I mean but) her thighs came up to the bottom of her butt in such a way that it appeared by all means that this woman had mastered the art of growing her own armour. Or, that simply, her thighs were the only thing holding up her butt. If she shifted (she did often impatiently), a huge wedge-shaped chink would appear in the armour, between the bottom of her butt and the top of her wedge shaped back of the thigh. You could store munitions in that wedge, or a second flank at least. I wondered if her kids hid things in there when they thought she wasn't looking. All in all, I'm not criticizing it. It was, if anything, a masterful engineering feat of nature. If I had buns like that, I'd be my own bookcase. "Neitzche? Sure, just one sec, I have it on me!" Yeah right, because I read tons of Neitzche. I probably haven't even spelled it right, lol.
I squished a small bug in the bathroom today, simply out of spite, for being trapped in the bathroom, and not doing something more purposeful, like finishing my two essays. At first I felt bad, and then realizing that it was so microscopic that I couldn't even discern what sort of bug it was, I didn't feel bad. Because if you kill something with no identity, it's ok, right? As you can tell, I'm a little upset about the most recent invasion in Iraq. I'm a little upset over the amount of soldiers being killed. And I'm a little more than a little upset about the fact that many more are going to die on both sides, both civilian and otherwise. People are already becoming so distracted that the media is starting to have lenience reminiscent of Vietnam. There was a picture of a dying man on the front page of the paper the other day, ripped to shreds with an army nurse doing cardiac pulmonary resciscutation (sp?) on top of him. It doesn't bother me. Perhaps if we had the same coverage that Vietnam had for Iraq and Afghanistan, more people would realize that what's going on is absolutely, unnegotiably wrong. More people would realize, "oh yeah dude, people are actually dyin' over there." More people would realize, "dude, Bush is a fucking retard..." More people would realize that out of everything stupid humanity has ever done and not learned from, war is something that it is imperative we learn from. The one thing we need to realize is inherently a bad way of solving a problem is using violence as a means.
I suppose I'll return to work now. Bah.