cognito ergo sumfin like that

i fucking hate philosophical ponderings. always have. well, at least since i got over my petticoat-wearing, best-friend-pashing, i-say-its-a-bong-and-you-say-its-a-bong-but-are-we-seeing-the-same-thing-or-like-something-like-totally-different-dude? phase.

"who am i?"; "what does it all mean?"; "what if g-d was one of us?".

i mean really, who the fuck cares? well, other than rancid tree-hugging hippy folk and first year arts students. all of whom need to get a haircut and get a real job. slackers.

does anybody else give a fuck? anybody? i thought not.

don't get me wrong, i'm down with plato and descartes and jung and all their homies. those dudes had their shit going on fo shizzle. and they wrote some killah rhymez in their badass timez. big ups themselves for trying to make sense of the big bad hood that is our world.

but when you're sitting in the oncology ward of the hospital watching your mother be prodded by the sharpness for like the gazillioneth time that day, and you're trying to get some uni readings done because you're already falling behind on your work because you're balancing work and study with your full-time role as a carer but the fucking topic for the week is 'the sociology of embodiment' and some wordy wanker is talking himself through hoops trying to figure out whether 'the self' is a tangible being or an ignis fatuus, only two thoughts cross your mind:

1) "i bet this fucker never watched a parent go through hell in a hospital bed. cause maybe if he had he'd stop with all the 'what is the true nature of the self?' bullshit and realise that all that matters is that people are real and fragile and vulnerable and wonderful. and that it hurts to see them hurt when you love them."

and;

2) "fuck me, that tradie fixing the creaky bed is hott. look sexy, la nadine, look sexy. and smart. actually maybe not too smart. but maybe he's really intelligent and this is how he's paying his way through medical school. you're so judgmental sometimes. hold on, fuck, where'd he go? damn!"

i really think its time i hurry up and get the hell out of my communications/sociology/international studies (aka 'glorified arts') degree so i can fulfill my destiny of selling my soul to cosmo for a crappy salary and a pair of jimmy choos.

or maybe i just need to get laid.