Monday, May 23, 2005

pretty stupid

If you had a choice to either be a genius, or utterly beautiful, what would it be? Me, I'm sorta torn on this question and of course, I need more details. So for the sake of simplicity I'll whittle it down - if you were a genius you'd be of moderate looks and if you were utterly beautiful you'd be able to add, subtract, read, all that, probably a bit more but its not like any of that matters you beautiful motherfuck I'll smash your fucking face in. So what would it be?

Ever since I was little I wanted to be beautiful. I remember being young and always wearing my mom's makeup, her stalkings, her high heels - I just wanted to be beautiful, and it wasn't until my mother informed me I was heading down the wrong path that I decided to change my ways. I'll always remember that concerned look on her face when I walked into the kitchen that one night. She wiped her brow as she told me about teams, batting, the correct way to swing. I wondered why she was so worried about baseball. She finally told me she wanted her things back, so I took off my panty hose, gave her back her mascera and never wore them again.

Instead I resolved to become better at little league baseball by knocking balls at the batting cages and correcting my swing.

But the longings never ceased...

I recall watching Beakman's World and Bill Nye the Science guy, secure with my looks but now insecure with my knowledge. I wanted to be smarter, a well of knowledge, like Bruce Willis in Die Hard who always just knew what to do, or Dustin Hoffman in Rainman but without the speech impediment. I wanted to be brilliant. I started reading books, or at least attempting to, only to realize that after a couple of minutes I was no longer comprehending what I was reading. I'd read the same sentence over and over and over, and if I overcame that sentence I'd soon be tripped up by another. Frustrated, I concluded I was an idiot and gave up reading all together.

(True story, so Sex, this is why I can't do your book survey, because to be quite honest I've never finished a book in my entire life. I recall reading parts of Catcher In the Rye and The Great Gatsby for high school though, boy that Ryan Caufield, what a fucking psycho eh? Where do all the fish go, grrr I wanna murder them all! What a cuck (c-oo-k), huh???)

I later realized that being dumb required a bit more than slow comprehension skills, and I still had a chance. Delighted, I became extremely pretentious and suffered from occasional illusions of grandeur. I was also hella high and self-assured that my thoughts were better than everybody else's - but aren't we all? Just nod.

Now I'm all fucking scared of the idea of offending someone's intelligence by telling them something they may already know, to the point where communication sometimes seems pointless to me unless some sort of new information is being relayed, and when the fuck does that happen? Where the fuck is this post going, hold on...

(Artificial segway)

In conclusion, what would you rather be. Genius or smoking hot?