wong

"There are two ways to dehumanize someone: by dismissing them, and by idolizing them."

Thank you, David Wong, whomever you are, for that quote! I agree! You are not wrong, wong. Wrong Wong? More like Right Wong! But actually more like David Wong, because that is your name. Why did your mother name you David? Was it because of the bible? Or an ancestor? Or did it just sound nice? Are you a nice man, Mr. Wong? Would I dismiss you or idolize you if I were to meet you? Do you eat meat? If so, come over for Thanksgiving at my house. If not, come over for Thanksgiving at my house. Our home will have both carnivore and herbivore options, David. So please. Join. Give thanks with friends. (Note: We have yet to become friends, Wong, but I have a good feeling about you. A really good, solid, hearty feeling about you. I bet your mother named you David because her husband told her to. Do you know your mother's husband? Assuming they were married. Maybe they were never married, maybe she used a sperm donor, maybe she conceived immaculately. That's ridiculous. I am ridiculous. Are miracles inherently ridiculous? Am I a miracle, David? I'm going to go out on a ledge and say that we are both miracles. Probably.

This post was not meant to be this. But this is what this is. It never existed before I typed it, so how was it "supposed" to be anything other than what it is? I may be sloppy in my thinking, but it's always sloppy before the storm, you know? The storm of insights. Just stay with me. Stay with me and keep reading and respond and then get upset at your response (or my lack of response to your response) and then slam your computer or your flip phone or your phone book (who were you going to call? were you ordering takeout?) and throw whatever object you just slammed across the room to the wall with the red mark on it. No, the red mark isn't paint or blood or unintentional ketchup stains. No, the red mark is from the shoe you threw at the wall last week when you were mad at something you've now forgotten. You buried your head in a bath towel after to muffle your scream. You scared yourself, you strained your voice. You had no choice but to try to remove the shoe stain on the wall. It wasn't your wall, that's why. It was David's wall and you don't want to make a bad first impression on Mr. Wong when he returns home. "Why the red mark?" Wong inquires. "Why the long face, Wong?" you mumble. It wouldn't be a good way to start off your friendship with David Wong. It would just be confusing.

But sometimes confusing is okay.

Okay?