{superlefty}

I don’t understand

I don’t understand how HTML works. I don’t understand how the operating system of my computer works. I don’t understand why the archives on this blog do not work. I don’t understand how a bill becomes a law. I don’t understand what people of the opposite sex think, do, say or feel and why they think, do, say or feel it. I don’t understand why in the more than half my life since I became simultaneously curious about and suspicious of the opposite sex I have not come to any greater understanding of its motives or meanings. I don’t understand why the things I cook keep catching on fire. I don’t understand where all the unexplainable bruises and scratches on my body come from. I don’t understand why Leonard Lopate does not understand how fucked up the world is and keeps asking all his guests incredulously if everything is really that fucked up. I don’t understand the difference between alternating current and direct current. I don’t understand the novels of Thomas Pynchon. I don’t understand the psychopharmacology of caffeine. I don’t understand many of the comments men yell at me on the street. I don’t understand the lyrics of songs unless I read them as I am listening. I don’t understand why so many people want so badly to drive enormous cars back and forth between gated communities, shopping malls and office parks. I don’t understand why I sometimes want so much to be in a fight though I suspect I might lose, unless I fought someone very small and weak. I don’t understand why everyone was so upset about seeing Janet Jackson’s bare breast. I don’t understand the languages I attempted to learn in high school and college when they are spoken to me by native speakers of these languages. I don’t understand why my herb garden is not flourishing. I don’t understand why every year I lose several hundred dollars to my inability to abide by traffic and trespassing laws and the allotted minutes of my cell phone service. I don’t understand how some bands can have one song that is totally amazing and all their other songs can be completely bland. I don’t understand the purpose of small talk. I don’t understand why I can only feel the L train going by in my apartment at night.

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