It is not normal, I tell you, not one bit. You step out of your house, and all you see around you are starecases. No, I did not spell that wrong, that’s what you see, STAREcases. Whether you are on foot or in your car, you notice so many people staring at you that it is enough to give you the creeps. At first I thought that it was just me, and I learned to live with it. I thought that a six and a half foot beauty on a wheelchair must be worth a stare or two, so why not enjoy it. But this is the pseudo-philosophical comment I got when I mentioned it to Shuntoo.
“Ha! You wish bachhay. It is not your beauty or attraction; we are a nation of starers. We love to stare. We stare at everyone, man or woman, pretty or ugly, interesting or boring, everyone. We stare with the most moronic expressions on our faces and a look in our eyes that shows that we have absolutely no purpose, in the staring, or in our lives. We just have too much time, nothing to do. When we are in public we stare, when we are in private we complain. But no matter where we are, we just cannot do anything that means anything. No thinking, no action, no innovation, no nothing. We just stare in the hope of seeing something unusual that we can concoct into an interesting story to gain some cheap popularity and silly leverage among our peers who are just as farigh as we are. We just cannot mind our own business, because we appear to lack both, a mind and a business.”
Pseudo-philosophical, but…….I wonder.