Pretense

I've not been much into the cynicism, or the walls of negativity like walls of sound at hardcore shows, or brutal self-refutation or self-deconstruction. But let's give it a try. Let's pretend like I had formative high school experiences that still linger: you know, the kind of experiences on hilltops when I looked into your eyes and awkwardly, clumsily made my first terrifying move, but you were equally terrified so it worked a little. Let's pretend we were a couple of kids that just needed reassurance and symboolic guarantees of fidelity. Let's pretend I gave you a pin which you wore, pretend you consulted your sisters on ancient feminine lore and the formal structure of dates. Pretend I had a car I knew how to drive so we could go anywhere. Pretend we laughed and joked at the Spring Fling. Pretend we talked to our respective circles of friends about this. Pretend I knew precisely where to put my hands at which date. Pretend I swathed you in my heavy coat when you got cold on the football field. Pretend we had little "bits" we referred to and laughed about which made us smile when they popped up to remind us of how we met, those first awkward encounters, troubles which turned to stories and so on. Pretend it was all better because we waited. Pretend I actually listened to you drone on about the constellations. Pretend you lived on my street so that you were only natural around me. Pretend the snapshots I took of you in the cab ride home ended up framed in our living room twenty years down the line. Pretend we made plans during listless summer days on the verandah with the wind chimes ringing. Pretend we went grocery shopping together. Pretend you knew exactly which paint you wanted in the living room. Pretend I lorded over the unpacked boxes of that first apartment. Pretend we had our moments from the third act of a shitty romantic comedy--sad music playing while walk my dog and you channel surf aimlessly, me stacking folders and you brewing coffee disaffectedly, me looking out the window disaffectedly and you pretending to laugh at a client's witticism--followed by the uplifiting reconciliation: orchestra swselling, tulip bulbs bursting. Pretend that gimmicky first time was more "cute" than "terrible". Pretend you parents finally learned to approve of me.

In the great hedonic treadmill that are human "relationships" I don't have even the most basic groundwork. Maybe that's why I think the rituals surrounding them are insane. My opinion has not changed. Good people come and go: the senseless mechanical ritual remains constant. I don't have a dog or a pin to give or a car. Affection for me is more cerebral than limbic. That's how unbalanced people have. And (jai deva guru om), nothing's gonna change my world.

Consider: "Education would be much more effective if its purpose were to ensure that by the time they leave school every student should know how much they don't know, and be imbued with a lifelong desire to know it."