I’m happy. I’m in Pittsburgh in the morning at an Einstein Bagel place alone. I feel like a guy getting away with something - like this minor indulgence would get me judged by persons unknown, but they can’t find me cause I’m in Pittsburgh.
The thought of those invisible unknown persons amuses me and pleases me, but I simultaneously recognize that the feeling of persons unknown judging you is probably what people feel when they are secretly running away from practically everything.
I tell myself that I don’t care what other people think of me, but why then am I imagining these invisible judgmental goons while I’m eating this bagel? As a matter of plain logic, I know for a fact that nobody cares about this bagel or the fact that I got strawberry cream cheese on it.
I prefer the framework where there are invisible goons judging me, but I don’t care because I am a brave hero named Pixy: When I get to Pittsburgh in the morning, I burst through the doors and say “Great!” when asked, and “It’s Brisk out there!” unprompted and “I’m from out of town! I wasn’t ready for this!” just to color it in a little bit more. I order the bagel how I want it, and give my name as Chris after a stuttered second of thought, because they sprang the question on me when I wasn’t ready, and I’m deeply secretly always running away from invisible judgement, and Pixy is a weird-assed name that I dared myself to adopt and wear like a proud badge on a guy who definitely doesn’t care what anybody thinks.
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