On superciliousness

Jaded is the word I’m looking for; ‘disappointed’ belongs in my rear-view mirror, ‘angry’ has been obliterated and forgotten. Jaded and slightly curious is my current predicament. I am no longer surprised by people’s strange and often unacceptable behaviour, but I am curious as to why they do what they do. The reasoning behind their social faux-pas (which have by now entered the realm of normal) is of sociological, if not ontological, interest. 

Both men and women have in the past few years mutated into anthropomorphic zombies characterised by indecisiveness, fear, insecurity, qualm, and most importantly, a lack of personality. The strangest this is that each sex has adopted the worst and most defining feature of the other, thereby becoming asexual supercilious little fuckers. Gone are the days of gallantry, romanticism, in its purest sense, and eloquence, both in speech and movement. The dance of seduction has been reduced to a clumsy wobbling of the senses, teetering around an ego that has been carelessly inflated to bursting point. 

The question has stopped being ‘How do I express  my desire in a manner that is civilized, polite, yet determined and clear’ and has instead become a dirty pool of nonsense fuelled by rhetorical questions pertaining to the macho kind; and that is true for both sexes. 

The point most people miss is that this is indeed a game, but not of hide and seek. I shouldn’t have to consult the Oracle of Delphi and then attempt to decipher what you want. If you can’t even express it non-verbally, then please step aside; you’re blocking my view. 

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