Paraphernalia of the mind

Why do you speak? Why do you address me, when you talk? Is it deliberate or is it just your propensity to be utterly nonsensical when I am desperately trying to make sense of an illogical world? I think its deliberate. I think I fail to understand the logic of this world because you are making me woozy with your spittle and speech.

But I am a good man, I am a democratic man, I have been programmed to let you voice your opinions; you are a nincompoop, you are a douche, you know nothing but to jabber on and on claiming its your bloody civil right. You are testing my patience, you are testing my resolve, you are testing my tolerance, you are testing my civility.

I am frustrated but I am polite. My legs hurt but I vacate the seat for women and elders. I am in a hurry but I ask to be excused or quietly find a way around someone in front of me. Someone bumps into me accidentally while talking on the phone but I apologize. I drown myself in inordinate guilt and pity every time I see a beggar looking at me ruefully pleading for his share of existence. I am destined to be sad forever, because I try to be good, humane, logical and reasonable.

I am an idealist. I believe in the inherent goodness of human beings. I believe that there are no good or evil men, but just good or evil deeds. I believe that we are all grey and struggling to rid ourselves of our banal instincts. I believe that torture, murder and rape are consequences of a shoddy upbringing or a destroyed childhood. I believe that men and women aren’t capable of unadulterated evil and there is always a reason, a logic behind such barbarity. I am an idealist. I am naive.

You will never change and I will never learn.

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