Old Friends

Walking home from school you notice a familiar face. Someone you have known since primary school, but never managed to remain in touch. Different interests, hobbies, clothes, friends. Marching diligently down the street, you glance up, and realize that your long-forgotten acquaintance is staring back; but what a stare! Long, sly and a hint of hypocritical pity, the eyes looking on into the distance, as if I wasn’t there in the first place, a ghost. Tolerant, that’s the word! Tolerant and sincerely sanctimonious.
To my disdain, I was confronted with a temperate, yet bold Hi, Nick. Judging by the intonation, one would assume that it was a greeting made solely for the sake of being polite. However, there was also a very subtle hint of laughter, a smirk fixed on the face, and eyes steadily tracking my foolishly unwelcome steady strides. The expression you read was imminently clear, however obfuscated it seemed to be in etiquette and smiling at first glance, wants you to know that you’re nobody, pathetic and unwelcome. Tolerant, it is.

Why do I fantasize like a maniac? Maybe I’m the one who’s looking down upon the lot, thinking, You puny, little humans, to yourself. What if it was just a good-hearted gesture of respect? Why does everyone have to be wrong and ill-meaning? You’re the one who’s wrong!

$root - whoami
puny person
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