It's my sweatshirt. I wear it everywhere. It's the middle of summer. And there are lots of parties. And everyone asks, aren't you hot in that?
It's a $10 sweatshirt from Walmart. It's paper thin. I'm about as hot in it as you are your t-shirt. What's the difference?
The sleeves are the difference. They cover my arms. Which is what I want exactly. I got too tan in Europe, too much sun. I don't want any more. So I wear sleeves to cover my arms. And maybe it's just a touch hotter than your t-shirt, true. But not much hotter. Plus, it's all I have. And look, you're still hot in that t-shirt. And I am hot in my sweatshirt. We are the same. But my arms are covered to keep me from getting more sun. If I had just a t-shirt, I'd still be hot too. But my arms would be cooking in the sun even more.
There's some psychology in this. But I don't even want to get into it. It's only just formed in my head. How people question weird. But they don't see that they themselves are weird just the same. Like if someone accuses me of being crazy. Well, okay then. I say that you're crazy too, why not. So who's right? We're both crazy, damnit. We're all crazy.
So then, it's a belief that they are superior, that their ways are correct. But look, your arms. You are getting melanoma. And I am covered. Though, yes, I am suffering a bit. It is only just a bit more than you yourself are suffering. And that Bacon quote again springs to mind, that people are so delusional to believe that the greatest things are accomplished with only the least bit of effort. If it means a little more discomfort for a greater benefit, then no thank you. Give me easy. And give me cheap.
And then there is me. Maybe I am looking too deeply into all this. And it's all much simpler really maybe. There's that Dostoyevsky quote that goes something like, people are never so complicated as we think—ourselves, too, included. Maybe it's just plain, genuine concern these people have for me. Aren't you hot in that? Take it off and get cool, you idiot.