Shooting from the hip

I’ve never been given to thinking of things much beyond the end of my own nose. It is a characteristic of the blessed, they say, this inability to dwell on unimportant things. Like politics, for instance, which to my utter amazement, people discuss even or only on commuter trains, depending on the degree of importance they attach to it. Or idealistic causes, like the banning of cow slaughter or bonded labor or any of the other ‘isms’ that are as common as mosquito bites. The comparison is not unintentional: just a way of expressing how much unimportance I attach to anything that is too serious.

Hell, man, life is too short for this kind of stuff. The world is a stage and all of us have come with a predestined role to play. So why should I bother with these futile issues when so many of my dear elected or appointed representatives are already bothering them to bits? Like, the best way to avoid confusion is to stop thinking. I’ve never wasted time on all that deep-thinking stuff. Which is why I’m so terribly clear-headed and practical and frightfully realistic. Simple living and simpler thinking, preferably no thinking - that’s my way of life.

Which is also why I can’t figure out why some sudden thoughts come to my mind, as if my brain was just shooting from it’s hip. Look, I really don’t care about such things, in fact, I don’t care about most things and I’m really struggling to understand why my brain conjures up such thoughts.

So I thought maybe I should start putting them down as they come to me. Maybe then one of you psychoanalytic types can tell me what is wrong with me, whether the rest of humanity has these kind of thoughts or maybe it’s just me…