Herein lies the dilemma: recently, I find myself asking questions that I don’t want to know the answer to. Things like, “how much revision have you done?”, “what’s your favourite colour?” (when getting to know someone) and “what did you have just now?”
Not saying that the lives of other people mean nothing to me, but all I seem to be doing is asking irrelevant questions when what I really want to ask is “why do you like eating mushrooms?”, “what do you think of Queen?”, things like that. And more outrageous things that are better left unsaid.
Maybe the reason behind the meaningless thoughts is the stress of imminent exams. Like a parrot – repeating what other people say without proper thought. It just made me realize that I’m nothing in the grand scheme of things. I think this quote from “Le Petit Prince” sums it up nicely;
“Grown-ups love figures… When you tell them you’ve made a new friend they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you “What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies? ” Instead they demand “How old is he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make? ” Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
The point I’m attempting to make is, as we grow up, why is it social suicide to ask interesting questions? And why have I, as have everyone else, succumbed to being one undivided, unremarkable group?
photograph from https://media4.giphy.com/media/WorgVZxXKdrEc/200_s.gif