Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be one of my pals for a day. To see the world with their eyes, see how I and all my strange pals move through it with a different sensibility, to see how they might see me, to understand what they like about being my friend.
Then I start to think of all the ways I think I am, compared to all the ways people think I am, and I think about running screaming away from the whole idea.
Alexander Pushkin once said, "better the illusions that exalt us than ten thousand truths". I think I understand that.
Maybe part of it's just growing into being a round faced invisible middle aged woman, but the older I get, the freakier it seems to think about how others see us moving through the world.
I know I'm fuckin' charming, well built, dramatic and darkly enigmatic as well as being a hardcore genius. But I doubt the rest of the world sees me that way. So I am glad I can't see myself through the eyes of other people.
Telepathy would be a terrible gift, hearing things you don't need to know, like how often people would think of scratching their butthole, how much they think about sex they'll never have, and how stupid and boring the thoughts most of the human race think.
And on another note:
Happy "fuck you King George, we're outta your empire, and you can go piss up a rope along with your Parliament, and then hang yourself with it" weekend. Odd to think we have our own King George now, who locks up people without due process in his own Tower of London in Cuba, a place we embargo because it's not a democracy.
I have been thinking of the irony of using a base in Cuba to keep people locked up without recourse since we did it.
But I digress. I'm going next door now, so I am egressing too, to the party our neighbors are having, where a whole pig was roasted, to drink beer and play some music and masticate dead porcine mammals.