I’m going to sit here and listen to pop music. Blurred lines. It is mayonnaise. Bread is easier to chew with animal fat. She would say how does meditating bring an animal fat in to your mind? Why can’t you just breathe? Count down. Okay, 100. 99. 98. 97. 96. 68. Turn the lights on. I cannot. I can breathe.
You are not dumb. But you are not smart. What’s upsetting to me is that you’re not concerned about what you don’t know. You like being stupid. Not stupid, ignorant. You like not knowing the answer. For me? Never. I have to know why. You? You want a dark-skinned stranger to make the margarine flat on the bread. Me? I’m looking for butter.