Iceberg Effect

A thought: many people believe that upon being photographed, part of their soul is stolen. If this is true, my observations, speculations, etc, will prosper once I find myself a good camera (by that I mean a film camera--there's something so nice about that authentic "click" noise when you take a picture). Just a note.

I haven't been doing much in the way of conscious observation lately; no really recent stranger speculation--been so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. But of course, I'm still watching. There's no way not to--everywhere you go, there are people and they're all talking laughing yelling crying dancing tripping falling. Just seeing how the people around me interact with one another, how I interact with them--it's still interesting.

The thing is this: I'm not sure how normal it is, but I can't simply hold a conversation with someone. No matter what we're doing, what we're saying--I always wonder what is going on in everyone's head. It's strange to think that everyone is always thinking, just the way I am. I mean, not just the way I am--but that other people are not just what they say or do. They are everything underneath. I know I never say everything I'm thinking--other people must be the same way. Whenever I'm around people, I am picturing the insides of their heads: I am thinking of gears turning and typewriter keys clacking. I wonder how other people think--if it really is the same way I think. It's distracting sometimes--overwhelming. If you're trying to imagine what's going on in the mind of every single person you encounter, every single moment of every single day--it's a lot. It has to be.

When you think about it, really, isn't it strange to imagine other people having the same kind of thoughts you do--racing, incoherent, a lot of things that never make it out but may be important nonetheless? Isn't it strange to think that everybody is this churning, feeling, constantly goinggoinggoing being just the way you are--that everyone around you is living and breathing and whole; that there's a whole world inside of them that there's no way for you to penetrate? It's so frustrating, being around people sometimes--I sort of want to shake them and yell, "What's going on in there? What are you thinking for REAL?" I just want them to spill it all out. But of course I don't ever do that. Because they never ever would. There are some things, I suppose, that just have to be secret.

Consider that, though. Tonight. Tomorrow. Next conversation--think about all the things that aren't being said. Think about people as people; think about yourself as just a person. It'll change the way you think--I promise. Or maybe you already think that way--there's really no way I can know, is there?