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andsometimesyoudon’treallythink,youjustexist

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.”

“What chair?”

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?

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trial and error

chips

Reduced Guilt is what it’s called. Like you can actually measure guilt. Like it can be this edible thing you consume to make yourself feel better. Wait. But guilt isn’t supposed to make you feel better. It’s supposed to make you feel worse. I don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s just that I saw this bag of potato chips and I knew it was special. Trader Joe’s is cool like that. You can get all sorts of neat snacks you can’t really find anywhere else. I’d like to think a bag of Reduced Guilt potato chips is something you can have that makes you feel less guilty about whatever it is you feel really bad about. Wouldn’t it be grand if life worked like that?

But then if such a magical bag of chips actually existed, wouldn’t it remove responsibility? No. It would be responsible for people doing whatever they wanted without consequences. Or with consequences and not having to care so much anymore. So bad chips. Bad! Or maybe the guilt is eating the chips in the first place and these kind lessen the pain of that.

Psh. Of course they are. And we’re back to the literal. Here’s to my lame attempt to take a photo of something and uncover something hidden deeper like I’m a real writer or something. Cheers!