Did you decide who I was before or after you spoke to me?
Did you decide to speak to me - or not - because of how I was dressed, what I looked like, my job, my education, my choice of beverage, my height, my accent, or my scintillating conversation with your plus one about the benefits of suburban parking spaces?
And who are you? Do you know? Are you sure? Did you dress yourself or did your date choose that sweater for you? Did you grow that ironic beard for her? Are you happy in your work, or just pretend to be to keep the peace? Did you miss taking up that scholarship because your family moved out of state?
Did someone ask you to hold their glass while they whipped to the loo? Do you slouch to compensate for those years of dance lessons which make you look too...straight? Are you trying to hide that southern twang? Do you talk ******* when conversing with strangers and tend to come across as a complete *****?
I thought so, go figure!
The more I think about it, it becomes clear to me - ironically enough - that who we are and how we communicate, interact, love and live is based on a pancake stack of impressions and fragmented contexts; a continuum of sliced-and-diced perspectives, learnt behaviours, and erroneous assumptions. Life is a veritable rabbit hole, thank goodness for poetry! :)
‘Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in a while, or the light won't come in.’
- Isaac Asimov
