No one tells you about the smells of a decaying body, when you get older – or am I too sensitive?
No one tells you about the dirty hands and how it can irritate you: or am I too sensitive.
What about cleaning? You clean your body, and you make the surroundings dirty; you clean the surroundings (house, floors, car, windows…) and you become dirty. So, you repeat the cycle again, and again. Do animals do this, No: did anyone tell you that your sensibilities won’t allow you to live like an animal any longer?
Who sets the rules? Who are they that should have told you?, but more importantly if you look out above what is in front and over to the horizon, no one told you there is no going back to ignorance, there is no going back to being unaware.
All the sweats, all the smells, uh! All the rules, all the desires.
Glory in them, you say…uh I cannot stomach them. Live an anti-septic, sterile life, you say: it is impossible, just as the obsessive, compulsive disorder sufferer.
A never ending cycle…eat (that which I did not suffer to catch, and skin and process), clean the dishes, with water I did not fetch, with soap that is a chemical cocktail of who knows what. Work and use, and break and fix and make dirty and clean and do it all over the next day and the next and the next. All the while decaying, all the while suffering the rules of men, the rules of society, commentaries and comments and scrutiny: by bosses, managers, parents, children, the law, the government, social reporters, social media: what a fish bowl!
The song that comes to mind is that of the romantic sitcom Friends (The Rembrandts):
“So no one told you life was gonna be this way
Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's D.O.A.
It's like you're always stuck in second gear
When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year…”
What about the pain, physical pain, mental pain and the pain of not living up to all these rules all these expectations? Pain in you back, pain in your leg (is that a blood clot?), pain in your head (is that a stroke?), pain in your chest (Is that a heart attack)?
Worry, worry, worry. All a result of the mind perhaps. All a result of the build up of year upon year of input and input and thoughts and worries and propaganda and desires and mistakes and unmet desires.
Ear wax, how nice. Stinking feet, stinking ass, farts and puss and bad breath and what no one told you is that the dainty, sweet smelling, thin, pretty women have the same. Suddenly when the woman is fat, she can smell badly as well. Suddenly after familiarity she also farts and has stinky feet. Suddenly when the veil, the illusion evaporates then the dynamic changes: then you love perhaps because she is the mother of your children, you love, because of the need for company…or, you suffer each other, the relationship deteriorates over time, and you start to hate each other, and then perhaps murder, or divorce, or beatings, or persecution of each other. So many illusions, that illusion of falling in love is so powerful, so wonderful, a tool of nature to capture a mate…an illusion that fails after a while and in the past you made adjustments, society forced you to make adjustments and stay loyal, stay married, or get another wife…but in today’s individualized world, that feeling of being in love is the most important, that feeling that magic, that idealization of a woman (or a man, from a woman’s perspective) but no one helps you really to face life as a mate, a companion after that.
How to behave, how to cope with smells, and dirt and imperfect humanity and differing points of view and sweat and showers, and hair and grit…
- Written by Omar Daniel Fourie on 24 March 2018 and finished and published on Steemit, 21 November 2018.