I wish people wouldn't ask me how I'm doing. The issue of useless small talk aside, the answers they expect aren't ever the appropriate answers to the question. They would be more suited to asking what I'm doing.

Vanity is alive and well.

There is a seemingly endless list of things that find a way to annoy me, but the topic for tonight is when some moron tries to have a deep conversation, only to arrive at "how do I know that you don't see colors differently than me." Asinine. The ironic thing about this is that the answer is the last thing anybody wants to hear. The reality is that nobody sees things the same way, and people only care because they want others to see things the way they do. I can't even politely disagree with my girlfriend about something important (voting. It's bullshit.) to her without getting yelled at. Basically, my blue is different than your blue, but we all want to see the same blue for fear of being considered a heretic. It's an Emperor's New Clothes situation.

I think I'm becoming some sort of bitter, sociopathic King Midas. Everything and everyone I touch turns into some sort of social experiment. Try as I might, I can't even have a beer with someone and enjoy their company without trying to achieve some great insight into the flaws of mankind.

I don't really know why I'm doing this. I suppose it's my repressed desire for some sort of attention. I'd keep a journal, but my fear is that I would tell people not to read it and that they would listen to me. Am I vain for maintaining the notion that someone is that interested in my thoughts and ramblings? absolutely. Whatever.