When I don’t have my glasses on I’m always afraid someone is smiling at me and I didn’t smile back. Or I missed something in someone’s facial expressions that reveals something I need to know about them related to me and I’ll never get it back and can’t ask them about it because that’s just weird. But then again, I’m weird. I try to look at someone normally like I can see them clearly, but for those few moments, there’s no way to know exactly what I’m looking at.
Well, duh. It’s all blurry. Maybe it’s like you’re looking straight on to the future, yet at the same time all the lines haven’t connected all the dots so the drawing is left hanging, a group of dots scattered around some blank spaces like a constellation. But what does it mean exactly if you’re looking at a blurry face? That person is somehow a part of the future you can’t identify?
Nah. It doesn’t work like that. Plus you can’t mix reality with philosophy. Today I was thinking about the old philosophical question about the chair and proving it doesn’t exist. A high school friend told me about this one. It goes something like this:
“Prove to me this chair does not exist.”
I mean, it makes me smile secretly to myself whenever I think of it, but I wonder how you really prove something doesn’t exist, you know? How would I prove I didn’t exist?