The threadmill and the cage

I was sitting outside the cinema at about 9 something in town on 22/1 Tuesday:

I wonder one very simple thing that: what is really terribly great about pretending having something when you really don't have it.

I have never pretended to be popular when I am really not. I never pretended to be successful when I really not. Less and most of all, I never pretend to be better than you when I am really not. Truth is that- I would rather sip coffee and watch the world go by than to pretend the world is in love with me or the world cares about what I think.

I used to treat everyone with pretense of any desire to be well-known with vehemence. Now I really just let it be. What is so good about being famous- you cannot eat a burger without looking stupid. I really do not understand with this obsession.

On one of the social network status, I put this as an ordinary person with average looks, short with premature balding. And I really do not understand this fixation with being interesting for the sake of it. It's like being interesting because nothing really interest you. Apathy is interesting up to a certain point- anything beyond the passive aggressive thing is simply gag-worthy.

At this moment, I have to tell you that I am at this stage. Nothing really gets me up now. I have always to hated to give this 'holier than thou' attitude but I really have to say that I really do know more than you. It's hard to know something without being preachy. But everyone gets the drift.

People interest me- not because they are interesting but they are so typical that sometimes I find it more interesting to note the habits than to show any interest.

Have you watch the hamster run the threadmill and have you run on the threadmill before- do you know the difference now.

Running the threadmill is fun when at the end of it, you get the reward- but when you are the owner- what is more interesting- or stepped outside the cage and see your peers running on it. You found it almost silly when it is better to run across the hallway.

Some people have asked me why do you allow people to make fun of you or disrespect you- my answer is: have you ever seen the hamster run the threadmill in a cage and keeping their storage underneath a coat of sand built by you. And when they see you, they run the threadmill- in hope of more food or other form of deviant exertions.

Yes, it is sad I know. But the only cure for this is amnesia and the only other choice would be to stay outside the cage and allow the fools to rush in.

You see the sad thing would be that your friends and people whom you run the threadmill with are still inside the cage- refusing to step outside it and see things beyond the threadmill. And the moment you mention this little 'secret' to them- they freeze- because that is the only thing that they know or will ever know.

Hence would you run back to the cage if you are me or run around the hallway- 'abandoning' your 'comrades'. The only ever thing that one would ever do is what is beyond the hallway and not what is underneath the threadmill.

Not sure- why it always comes back to women or sex. The above is quite different from it. Assuming that I have bed all the women from different countries- does that make me the hamster running across the hallway. It would if I want to be Maquis de Sade or Don Juan- but trust me there are many other things more important than ejaculation.

Just the other day, I decided to buy some books just for the heck of it. I found out that Holly Golightly is really a call girl unequivocally and not just a social escort like in the movie. Now- what is the big deal- seriously. Can you imagine all the girls who wants to Audrey Hepburn in breakfast at Tiffany's is really trying to be a high class prostitute- now what is so glamorous about that.

And can you see all the girls on the thread mill- trying to be a high class prostitute now... If I put it like that, it really sounds ridiculous- but read the book, true story.

So, anyone would wants to be anyone and tries to be do something just for the heck of it or think that it is what it is made up to be: will bear the brunt of the full force of reality- sooner or later. You have your reward, that's because I want you to- you sucker. Go and be your Audrey Hepburn- you will enjoy it and wait till the end- by the way she was the mafia's moll and messenger as well. Reality will not ship you off to Brazil to marry a future PM with fugitive though. It will most likely from Trainspotting- puking into a disused toilet bowl- as a druggie.

Hence anyone can be anyone you want or be with just insofar that remember: Breakfast at Tiffany's is a book and a movie- and she was orphan and was a pedophilia victim. Seriously.