Life: Holding Hands

Couples hold hands. Girls for affection and guys for show. It feels wonderful to have a beautiful girl on your arm, or if you are a physics or math major, any girl. With this simple nonsexual touch, guys give a socially accepted “fuck you” to every other jealous bachelor. But every so often a couple doesn’t look quite right. The girl, bless her heart, is obviously and desperately infatuated with her male counter part and guy is two hiccups away from ending it. She just isn’t pretty enough.

I realize I am going to be reincarnated as a dung beetle but let me explain.

The girl is probably too good for him. He is probably an ass and treats her like shit. He is lucky to have her. Ti's true. But as nature would have it, humans aren’t attracted to personality or character. All he knows is that his girl is emphatically groping him as he walks. She does this for affection, of course, as all girls do. But in an interesting twist of fate, she now becomes the show-off. She is trying to scream to the world “He likes me! I have a boyfriend!” and of course, “Fuck you sorority girl!” All the while, he is looking up in the trees barely touching her, unequivocally whispering to every passerby, “We are just friends.” But he’s not fooling anyone, it is obvious that he is either using her for sex, in which case he is obnoxious filth, or he truly likes her and she is beautiful to him, in which case he should not insult her and his relationship by acting like he doesn’t really like her. Despicable.



And the same situation could be reversed, but it never is, because girls feel more than they see. Girls are more thoughtful, nicer, less superficial, and are overall better human beings. My advice then? Don’t get involved with someone who you can’t proudly hold hands with.

Life: Going to the Bathroom

I don’t have many habits, or at least irregular ones. I change my pillow case more often than most, true, but I generally enjoy predictability. Don’t we all? Case-in-point, today I went upstairs, went into the bathroom, shut the door, and went. I’ll have it noted that my roommate was in Ohio, doors were locked, and there are no windows from my bathroom.

So why did I shut the door? No one was going to see me. I didn’t need to hide myself.

Why do we find it necessary to continue the routine, even though all logic tells us it makes zero sense? And why also do we find ourselves so uncomfortable when life changes? If you don’t believe me I dare you to face the back-wall on your next elevator ride, walk down the middle of the street in the dead of night, or dare I say, keep the door open while going to the bathroom (when no one is home of course). It is quite uncomfortable.

Thus far, things in my life have gone extraordinarily well. I’ve been either tremendously lucky or markedly gifted. In short, I am lucky. But without cause or warning my life has changed toward the uncomfortable, though not negatively (because I hate drama). I simply feel less in control than I ever have.

And only because it is good for me, I give you this writing’s final antidote (or euphemism): I will not shut the door.