Sometimes, you feel this blind fury building up within you, and you feel the need to suppress the crazy flash of desire to reach up and snap that person’s neck, just so your life will have one less annoying person. Now, of course if you weren’t in public, in the middle of a crowd, where the cost of such an action would obliterate any momentary satisfaction of seeing the source of your perpetual annoyance, lying on the floor with its neck twisted at a strangely grotesque angle, you might actually consider acting upon your thoughts.
However, it is probably considered more socially acceptable to smile and pretend to agree or sympathise with the person. It’s easier to walk around behind a facade, it doesn’t matter that you’re really quite hollow inside, and all you feel these days are anger and frustration. While the monotonous flow of inconsequential chatter grates on your senses, you have to press your lips tightly together, struggling to harness the nuclear force coalescing within your words, and you didn’t dare let your thoughts escape lest they blew you wide open. You try to corral the rage that building up within, not even daring to look at your reflection as you walk past a window, for fear of finding the face of evil glaring back at you.
It’s all a pretence, the act of “caring” about someone else’s well being. Why should you care if someone is feeling upset? What benefit does it give you in consoling or comforting them other than the fact that it is what society expects you to do. Or that it is the appropriate response to a person in distress. You could hear the words tumbling from your mouth like rocks, you feel your facial features contorting into the obligatory sympathetic expressions, pretending to listen, pretending to show interest… It’s like a perpetual masquerade, portraying a believable rendition of a normal human being. When all these while, behind that mask, you don’t give a damn what actually happens to the other person. In fact, you find yourself planning and altering scenarios of the best ways, should I add most painful ways, to get it to stop its inconsequential blathering and leave you in peace. You find it a tad amusing that its focus is so short term, and you also find its tendency to magnify small worries and trying to ensnare you in its web of paranoia slightly ridiculous.
You’ve learnt early on in life to split your concentration perfectly, that way, you could give all the appropriate responses, all the while concocting schemes in your head about what you’d really like to do. It’s getting more and more difficult trying to act within the rational constraints of societal expectations. Spending time in the company of people that you don’t even really like, talking about matters that you don’t give a damn about, all these pretence…
You usually know what you want and how to get it, how to talk to people to get them to act in accordance with your wishes, all the while thinking they made that choice based on their own reasonings. You observe that there is this strange need for emotional connection, and you watch curiously as a ballet of guilt and remorse dances across their features in perfect synchronisation to your cues, and secret smile tugs at the corners of your lips, watching their reactions. They suffer because they have a moral anchor, that you never had in the first place, stemming from a deep sense of social obligations to others, something they deem as part and parcel of having a relationship.
There is a sense of entitlement that comes with your underlying sense of rage, fuelling the sense that you have the right to get what you want. Imagine a person with two distinct self at work, duplicity incarnate, with a polished self shown to the world, and darker, covert, hidden self with a rigid and calculating agenda: to win. Regardless of the cost to others. You view the world in a sterile game like manner, with no real attachment to anyone.
But in this current situation, your payoff matrix has revealed that it is better to continue to act like you care, like you feel sorry for it, like as if you don’t dream of just stabbing it to death, so it will take its useless concerns and needless whining down the bowels of hell with it, and leave you to play out the next game to soothe your craving for manipulations and connivance of the next gullible pawn.