Noone understands you.

Noone understands you.


I’m so sorry. I guess this hurts. But that’s just the way it is. For you. Like you are trapped in a dark room all by yourself. I imagine it’s very painful. I understand…err, I can sortof see how…I mean, I suppose, that’s what I do, I suppose you wish very much to be understood. I assume? I can and will suppose this for you. Since you cannot be understood.

Supposing it, I wish someone did understand you. Too bad noone does.

Not one single person understands you at all!

Oh no, telling you this like this might make you upset. Are you upset now? I really don’t know, because you are impossible to understand. But if so, that’s terrible.

I’ll try telling you some other things to cheer you up!

1) Death is certain.
2) I can’t speak for anyone else, but it’s unlikely that I will hurt you on purpose.
3) Most foods are not poisonous as far as we know.

4) Prunes.

Did any of those cheer you up? Wow, it is completely impossible to tell!


Let’s pretend you said something. Then I would say, “Wow, I totally understood that!”

But I can’t understand you. Is that confusing? For you? How would I know?

Here, pretend you are a baby. Go ahead. How’s that? That’s fun, right? I wish I could tell.


Anyway, now you are a baby. And you see me. What am I?


See, that’s how babies are. Now, when you were a baby, you were supposed to learn that other people are different from you, not in an embrace-multi-colored-individuals way, but in a you-are-not-me-and-vice-versa kind of way.

But then you grew up and forget this. You had so much stinking experience that sometimes you accidentally correctly predicted how people would behave.* You thought you came to believe slowly that you could guess what people think. I’m guessing. Or even what they will think, in advance! like a little meteorologist. With our armsfulls of data collected from everyone else. We believe this probably by the time we are ten.

Noone can guess where a drop of water on noone’s windshield is headed. But you think you can guess what another person thinks. (I’m guessing.)



Just think for a moment–if I were you, I’d take a good long one– about what a human mind is. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. So big. So complicated. Like a rich humming carbonara sauce made of supernovas. Deliciously fascinating and huge.


You have no chance. I’m sure of it.


Now let’s look at a sample interaction, as proof. Can you guess what I would think?

You: Gee, that pasta looks great.

Me: ———




You: Gee, that pasta looks great.
Me: It is! Would you like some?

No! Wrong wrong wrong! You can intend an understanding for me, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get any! My understanding is all mine. None for you! I get to decide what I think about what you said, and I will do so on a tangent on purpose because I don’t like your guesses! And for fun. Like this:

You: Gee, that pasta looks great.
Me: Yes. Do you often like to look at pasta?


This makes me stronger, because I have the option to play along, but don’t have to take it. Lasagna.


Ok. In my last attempt to cheer you up, I will now tell you again that I understand all of the things that you say. To me. Additionally, I understand that you have not said, to me, all the things that you have not said to me.

And that is all you are going to get. From anyone!

I wonder if that helped any. It’s so hard to tell.




PS: it’s seed-starting time for those people who do those kinds of things.

PPS: I have a lot more to say about this. This is the crux of the matter. For me. As far as I know. At this time. So consider yourself warned, because I can’t. At least not in a well-supported way.

*Not me, I don’t do that. And anyway, this is actually less of an accident than it is them being polite.