XI. Judge One Another
The vile and icy gazes of the invisible mannequins that lie beneath the requiem called store are the only ones that soothe my senile soul and give me, even for an instant, the air of their abstract presence.
I no longer remember when I became so invisible; all I know is that in this moment I just wanted to be noticed again, worthy of attention from the simplest living being. Strong! No… spent, is how I see myself when I look in the mirror, yet I return and rebuild the image of those who observe me and feel I am one of them.
Poor humans, they’ve barely learned to leave their planet, they barely know themselves, and they already want to judge their fellow beings. I know deep down it’s just me, without any external observer, without any judge to tell me who I am, because that I have always known: I AM ME!
How much time do we spend trying to please everyone around us, trying to be the most estimable and notable asset, being only a source of others’ pride. Why this ridiculous idea then? If the majority behaves this way, there must be a very good reason.
Fear!
The fear of being shorn by voracious words for being different, or worse; of being struck down by a look of contempt that would only be dealt to a beast, an aberration, that abhors everything it feels so that it can cease to be itself, just to be what others want it to be.
I want to be only me. Those who don’t understand should at least accept those around them, never judge. The totality of another’s reality doesn’t belong to you. It doesn’t belong to anyone, only to the person who lives it. To say otherwise would be pedantry. Being human, in my dictionary, comes with the following attached entry: pedantry. Judgment based on a piece of someone else’s reality?
The totality is never revealed before having a complete opinion about someone, and that is perhaps why people are so surprising — because we forget who they are and take upon ourselves that a person is always what we idealize, and not necessarily is that the reality, since our perception is flawed and we only have five senses.
In other words, we live under the dictatorship of our own five senses, which makes us incapable of understanding how the five senses of the seven billion people in the world work, being capable thus of comprehending only our own angle of vision on everything that constitutes reality.
I think I have some reason in what I write, but… who would give credibility to a beggar who is always theorizing about the most outlandish things.
Everyone should be mad.
We live in an insane world, for we are too sane. If we were a little bit crazier, perhaps the world would be more sane. I felt like the Mad Hatter from “Alice in Wonderland,” urging you, reader, to detach yourself from this aura called reality as you read me.
