Do we think too much about what we think
others think or not enough? Will we ever know? Does it even
I was thinking about that all last week
and kept posing my questions to my classmates. And I
received lots of laughter and eye rolling. And head shaking.
And amused chuckles. And the oft-repeated “You
Which only further annoyed me. Because if
they think that I over-analyze, then that means that they
don’t care that others care to analyze them. Which means
they just don’t care.
And over-analysis is really often just a
label we give things that have gone so far in logical
linking and argumentation that they seem to have reached a
wall in reasoning. However, we usually purport over-analysis
as something exorbitant, a mass of netted thoughts that
unnecessarily tangle or extend issues to inconsequential
matters or maters contrary to the initial point. And the
reason we take the latter meaning is that society has a
general pre-occupation with the expedient. Like if we can’t
measure what’s moral or good, we might as well do what seems
relatively good and travels rather quickly.
But anyway, the point of all of this was
that “over analysis” label was quite bothersome to me. I
realized that under such a label, few of my conversations
would pass and people would become more inclined to reject
any ideas of mine due to past “over analysis.”
Maybe I would gain more acceptance by
revoking these theses of mine and sitting back in haughty
disdain and careful carelessness like my other classmates.
Like maybe that would stifle the insufferable collective
groan emitted from the populace every time I started a
sentence with something like “Well...” or “Not really...” or
“Ahh, but that would imply...”
So in a fierce quest to become at least
slightly more popular (but in a more secret battle to
diffuse my ideas), I decided to dilute my burning
inclinations to be too expressive. Poor me, succumbing to
the peer pressure.
So I woke up the next day and slunk into
school with a sort of Zen attitude. Calm, cool, and aplomb.
Tolerance, tolerance, tolerance. I chatted with my friends
and didn’t argue against them. Even if they’re viewpoints
seemed flagrantly wrong. I absorbed everything the teachers
said without a single recalcitrant thought flitting through
my mind. I smiled at even the most ludicrous things
benevolently, making the funny link that if they existed
they must be okay.
I should have been given some sort of a
prize. They all ate it up! The heaving sighs of
understanding, the conspiratorial nods, and the desperately
happy laughter that fringed the words of those who feel like
they are thwarted daily. They all seemed to label me a bona
fide Mother Teresa in my capacity to understand.
And then I gave up around lunch. It was
just too much.
But I guess I answered my initial
question, right? Because I clearly think too much of what
others think if I changed my own attitude to better
accommodate my peers.
But maybe there’s something bigger. Maybe
I mostly think of myself. After all, I only did all of this
to further my own ideas. Of course if that’s true, then I
think of others only if I feel better about myself after
thinking of others over myself, which means...