Wandering around Paris alone has its ups and downs. The upside is being unfettered by the collective opinion of person(s) other than yourself on what to see and what to do - walk around, stop and stare at a small church tucked away in a corner or sitting down in a cafe staring at stunningly beautiful Parisian women. The downside is that eventually when your feet tire, your neck is sore from looking up at the stained glass and all the women have left you are left with nothing but your own thoughts. I have a slight problem with thoughts. Invariably, I always have some thoughts that keep running in loops - infinite loops. And, we all know that Linux is awesome - it can do infinite loops in five minutes. Sadly enough, my brain does not run on Linux - not yet.

One of those thoughts is this insane human desire to posses something - tangible objects or experiences. The harder it is to get them, the more is the drive to have them. Exactly what Twain was getting at when Tom Sawyer starts whitewashing the fence. What just makes this whole thing worse is when someone you know well has object X or experience Y chooses to constantly rub the lack of X or Y in your face. In ways that are sometime obvious and in ways that are sometime disguised. Their sense of disguised being standing in front of an A380 with a broken wing and holding their arm out hoping it will draw away attention. Bah!

In my particular train of thought I realized that in most cases the "rubbing it in your face" is done on purpose. For lack of anything better to do. So much so that X and Y could be things that normally you would preen off to others, but people will try to wrap all that under psychological hogwash filtered and cast into positivity using third-hand misinterpreted Freudian theories. The kind people who say "Fre-yood".

I have this deep desire to stand such people in my life in a line and rail them. Or worse - use the gauntlet. Die, fuckers, die!