Long walk home
It’s a long walk home when it hits again.
I look into a busy restaurant. The people eating dinner look like they’re grazing. The awkward body language between the new couples wouldn’t look out of place on the Discovery channel. The clothes that they’re wearing appear out of place, like pajamas on cats and monkeys.
The women look like they’re trying to hide what they look like with makeup rather than make themselves more attractive.
The men look awkward using words and talking while they eat.
I can imagine the smell underneath the women’s perfume and the men’s cologne. The pretense is almost too much to take.
It’s too easy to imagine them rutting in bushes. It’s too easy to see them picking through each other’s hair for bugs. It’s too easy to picture them having a quick crap in the alley before running away into the night, hooting.
They’re animals dressed up. Sometimes I think the only thing that separates them from the other animals is their insecurities. As a race, they’re overcompensating for the embarrassment of their beast-like natural origins with intelligence, philosophy, manners, religion, concepts of beauty, clothes and money. It’s the shame of being primitive that drives them.
Their lives are painfully short. They waste so much time worrying about their unvaryingly ugly appearance and stupid behaviour. They are bags of meat and water.
I am hundreds of thousands of their years old and I am young. I’ve seen them rise to power and the way things are headed, I might even see them fall from grace.
It’s a bad night. Usually I like them the way a zookeeper likes the animals.
Tonight, however, they seem pathetic and doomed.
tags
I look into a busy restaurant. The people eating dinner look like they’re grazing. The awkward body language between the new couples wouldn’t look out of place on the Discovery channel. The clothes that they’re wearing appear out of place, like pajamas on cats and monkeys.
The women look like they’re trying to hide what they look like with makeup rather than make themselves more attractive.
The men look awkward using words and talking while they eat.
I can imagine the smell underneath the women’s perfume and the men’s cologne. The pretense is almost too much to take.
It’s too easy to imagine them rutting in bushes. It’s too easy to see them picking through each other’s hair for bugs. It’s too easy to picture them having a quick crap in the alley before running away into the night, hooting.
They’re animals dressed up. Sometimes I think the only thing that separates them from the other animals is their insecurities. As a race, they’re overcompensating for the embarrassment of their beast-like natural origins with intelligence, philosophy, manners, religion, concepts of beauty, clothes and money. It’s the shame of being primitive that drives them.
Their lives are painfully short. They waste so much time worrying about their unvaryingly ugly appearance and stupid behaviour. They are bags of meat and water.
I am hundreds of thousands of their years old and I am young. I’ve seen them rise to power and the way things are headed, I might even see them fall from grace.
It’s a bad night. Usually I like them the way a zookeeper likes the animals.
Tonight, however, they seem pathetic and doomed.
tags