On Things That Don’t Make Sense, Episode 1: Love

everything is weird.
somehow we’re supposed to believe that it is precisely this lack of order that signals everything is happening exactly how it’s supposed to be.
never in my life have I encountered such a senseless evolutionary disadvantage.
for example, i’m pretty certain only things that are there should be able to move,
or at the very least some kind of tangible sense of something –
something you can point to and say ‘this is a thing called this, here is this thing’.
why then do those that claim this thing quiver in places that don’t exist?
the thick gooey stuff holding your heart beats together in a string,
that place is shaking and shaking and shaking.
it has to be dangerous to have that little control over your own bodily state –
a waving eyelash, the swish of a pink, pointy tongue, a coffee-flavoured baritone and
you’re a mess of quiverings.
apparently even a vague hint or a memory stuck on a replay loop is enough to
send you into some kind of catatonia –
hours spent theorising, philosophising, or otherwise trying to deny that
yourself no longer belongs to just you,
and a vague, formless anxiety sort of becomes second nature.
it lives in a mason jar with a blue lid, next to where you keep your vitamins.
do you think god (if you believe in that sort of thing) does this for funsies?
is he/she/it up there just kind of tra-la-la-ing,
watching us fumble around, hearts trailing –
offering feeble imitations of forever to each other in the hopes that
someone out there enjoys naked Harry Potter marathons too?
that would be kind of… mean.
wouldn’t it be much kinder to say ‘hey, you with the paranoid eyes,
you’re going the wrong way’, and lead us to where horrible things don’t happen –
like dropped heart stitches and bad kissing?
i don’t know, maybe there’s a reason why humans are so obsessed with binaries…
you know, for sanity.
because if there’s a you, surely that must mean that
someone out there has this life thing figured out… right?


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