Hugs are stupid. Yes, they really are. One moment someone tells you how much they love you and you’d think that would be enough. Then they go as far as to physically express it? What is it? Here let me mesh my body by wrapping my arms around your torso while you do the same. It’s not sexual or anything. I’m just trying as hard as I can to put my bare open chest onto your bare open chest. Yes your excuse is so that our hearts can touch but what are we really doing here? No it is not sexual. It’s expression It certainly isn’t since I want to keep this particular friendship clean. Shit, well, here it goes. I’ll hug you I suppose.
Finally, it’s done. Another person less that I have to worry about hugging. Again, hugs are pointless. You know where the hug derives from, right? They derive from the optimist. Did you know that? Why of course, think about it:
Optimist: Primarily uses the right side of the brain. And what do these optimists love? Feelings. That’s right. With all of these feelings they do everything they possibly can to express themselves in every way, shape and form. First there’s writers. Writers think they know everything but they don’t as they create fictional worlds to feel powerful and godly. Then there’s singers. Singers thought, “Well talking is one thing but say if I spoke to a rhythm while basing all of these things called notes into an A minor key signature while elongating certain notes to a vibrato ending I could call it singing thus calling myself a singer,” and thus it became a thing. Fucking brilliant… and a good waste of time. Then you have the actors who are so sick of being themselves that they decided they must be everyone else now. One month they’re a damsel in distress and in the next month they’re a kick ass super soldier who wears skimpy clothing to affirm their sexiness… that they’re insecure about of course. Ugh, despicable people.
Yep, that’s my definition of them. Again, they are rather disgusting people and pathetic excuses for adults. One could literally be trapped in a burning plane as it falls from the sky at 300 knots and somehow tell itself that everything is going to be okay. He or she will repeat it over and over until their satisfied with the situation- Death. However, if there was a left brained person as myself in that situation, someone who understand the necessary need for cold and decisive instinct and planning in situations as such, would search for the nearest exit and parachute by pushing myself though the zero gravity atmosphere concealed within the fuselage and at least try to force myself out of the horrific tragedy thus avoiding it. Result – living. See my point?
Again, optimists are stupid. Same situation goes for the zombie apocalypse, for example (By the way, the zombie apocalypse was something written up by optimists to tell a good story. Can you tell?). Say the flesh-eating monsters that were construed within the walls of the optimist capital, Hollywood, became a real living crisis within today’s world. Yes, the human numbers are shrinking and the zombies’ appetites are growing. The last people alive to defend themselves, find each other, unite and repopulate will be the pessimists- those who didn’t tell themselves and their children that it will all be okay. Did you say okay? Does Grandma getting her brains eaten out by some Hollywood made creature sound okay to you? That’s what any logical mother or father would say to their naive child in order to strengthen him or her for such an event that it is not going to be okay. First they would have made a bomb shelter. Then, they would have bought as many guns as possible. Then they would have defended themselves and moved on to find better resources and in the end, would repopulate the Earth. This right here is the perfect family.
Now what I have said thus far is not cynicism. It is all purely fact which us left brained people have a knack for foreseeing. We’re political, calculated, business-oriented, aware and sharp thus making us the superior being. We use the part of our brain that is real and important. We set aside the right brain because let’s face it… hugs are stupid.
So what’s my focus? I sit in my cubicle and I make the world a better place. I am the best worker on my floor due for a promotion in July. I’ve have the best sales and make the better deals. I know how to manipulate your right brained psyche into buying my product and I certainly know how to get away with better commission than the average Joe. How do I do that, you ask? I can’t tell because this room is social darwinism and that is how you survive in the wild jungle of business. It’s all politics really. I’ll laugh with my bosses and tell them crazy stories of the things I did in college, but let’s face it. I’m doing this for that promotion. So after I tell you all of these jokes and stories and laugh it up to create the subconscious awareness I get back to the cubicle without any hesitation and begin to type ferociously onto the keyboard. I analyze the numbers and charts, percentages and monthly records. Type, type, type, type, type and just like that I make the world a better place by sharpening my left brained skills.
After all of these closely evaluated details within my life are speculated it is time to sit back and relax for the evening. The sun is about to set and everything seems perfect. I suppose once in a while it is fun to look down at the world below and laugh at the optimists who ruin it. So I sit down on my couch (which isn’t too soft and isn’t too hard- perfect for doing paper work on for casual days) and turn on the television. Flipping through channels I find several different stations full of optimists who are busy making their lives into optimistic heavens. You have writers writing fake lives for actors who got the role by singing in an audition. Look at that! All three so-called talents derived from the right brain. So many silly and useless emotions to make fun of. The only emotion I feel for them is… well humor I suppose. I mean look at them! Just what are they doing with their lives! Obviously nothing except for telling themselves that it is okay to be making lies to the public on what supposed parts of the world are like. It is so laughable.
Here, enough of this nonsense. It is time to watch something intellectual- The News! (The News being of course the only station in the universe worth watching for the virtue of awareness) But wait, what’s this? A crisis? Here in America? The news anchor frantically reports thus, “The notorious Area 51, thought by the public to be a fake location in America, has gone awol as scientists and staff working on the facility have not been seen for over a week. One camera crew made it in and out alive to tell the story as to why they could not reach them.” The station then inserted raw footage onto the screen. The camera is shaking frantically. Back and forth, back and forth, the camera man couldn’t hold the camera steady as he ran for his life screaming. In the back, a series of ominous moans echoed from behind him as he ran through the dark and shallow corridors. Suddenly, a light shows at the end of the corridor. An exit! He runs in dear hope trying to flee the unseen source until he turns the camera around to find himself being chased by tens of hundreds of deformed human-like beings. Their eyes are bloodshot. Their skin is half torn off. Blood runs off of them as their bloody foot prints scar the floor with infested diseases and fluids unseen before. “Yes, this secret facility has been overrun. By what? We’re not sure. ‘The Monsters’ as General Smith has described them are vicious man eating creatures that spread an infected virus while violently dashing towards their victims to gather more meat for their appetites. General Smith suggests that all citizens should remain calm and keep their doors locked as to remain safe from such a situation. Although they have broken through the first line of defense the General is confident in solving the problem and aims to rid the crisis down to the last monster. “They are vicious, they are relentless but are more than stoppable with our advanced military. We ask that you remain calm and keep those that you love closest to you during these times. Everything is going to be okay!” says the general. “This is reporter Angelina Right reporting live from The News.” I am speechless.
Surely, this can’t be happening. Man-eating? Did I just hear that correctly. I begin to flip through the news channels skeptical of such a report. I can’t believe what I’m seeing though. This can’t be real. Each report relevant and correlated to the next of an impending spread of some sort of monster invasion. One report says that almost all of Nevada has lost its power and has no connection for communication. Wait a second. Area 51 is in Nevada. Even worse, my family is from there!
Quickly, I pick up the phone and call my parents cell phones. Their phones ring and ring and ring with no answer. The only thing I hear of their voices are their answering machines. “Thanks for calling! Please leave a message after the beep. Beep!” They joke and laugh like nothing is wrong with the world and cut the message to voicemail. How could this be happening? A zombie apocalypse? I must go out and get my survival necessities. Come on left brain work! Water! Yes. Wood! Yes! Gas! Yes! Food! Yes. Matches! Yes. Guns! Yes. Wait, shit! The General said to stay inside with doors locked. Quickly I run to the window facing my neighborhood to see whether it is safe or not. Outside I could see people running in the streets like a riot out of hand. With zombies chasing for bloody human flesh and planes flying vertically down at 300 knots crashing down at top speed into dry mountains that spread fire, the California I once knew turns instantly into the apocalyptic world I’ve seen in Hollywood films. Shit. It’s all real. Oh, how stupid it was to never call my parents because of work-related excuses. Oh, and how stupid it was that I didn’t make any friends at the office so that maybe I could shelter up with them and be safer in a more resourceful atmosphere. Oh, how stupid it was that I didn’t listen and never prepared for the worst. What seemed fake was now real and what was once so far was now here. I am going to die. I know this quite clearly. My house isn’t a bomb shelter. It’s merely a suburban house with a small piece of metal called a lock to stop intruders from breaking in. But they won’t enter through the door. They won’t enter in any proper manner. They will enter through the windows and through the roof if they can manage. Fuck! I’m a business man, not a creator. I don’t know how to board up walls and windows with wood let alone the fact I don’t have any. I don’t know how to turn my house into a defense vessel!
I’m going to die. I know it. So I begin to tell myself the only thing I could possibly tell myself: “It’ll be okay. There will be a rescue team out to save me. It’ll be okay.” But I know I’m going to die. I have no one with skills necessary to sustain my life in such a place. I am going to die…
I need a hug.