Mist by MC
Two somewhat weird ideas have preoccupied me this morning simultaneously. One is about a condition that afflicts me and the other is a tad broader and more philosophical.
It has taken me over three decades of adulthood to figure out my fundamental affliction. I have what I call free floating indifference.
It is an exceptionally rare congenital condition that is practically impossible to diagnose by anyone other than those who have it. It is not transmittable because there is nothing to transmit. Those who come in contact can only infer it much after they experience it. It leaves a subtle and unpleasant aftertaste.
My free floating indifference chooses its target randomly. I do not have any control on whom to be indifferent to and when and why. It can set in any time in the middle of an interaction. Since I am the host I can feel its onset and have to try hard to ensure that the person or persons I am interacting with does not catch on that I am in the midst of an episode.
There is no cure for this condition. It has no identifiable or quantifiable manifestation except what the host vaguely discerns. As someone who has it I can tell you that it is a strangely liberating affliction that cushions one from the buffeting mundaneness of life. There is no expression that encapsulates this condition but the one that comes the nearest to describing it would be “So what?” I prefer “It means nothing.”
The second idea that closely followed free floating indifference was about life generally. I have always thought my life is a performance art where the largely indifferent audience starts heckling me in the first five minutes and screaming for refund.
One has no genuine response to most things in life; so one has to confect it or manufacture it. It is indeed a contrivance most of the time with enough care having gone in to ensure that the recipient of that contrivance does not get wise to it. So far I have not come across anyone who could tell that my response or reaction to life’s situations was bereft of any genuineness. I do fake life rather well.
This is beginning to sound strange just about now. It is as good a time as any to end it.