Existential dilemna #23718

I read the newspaper today after such a long time, that I blush for any prospective interviewers, I cannot trot out banal perceptions of international happenings or express outrage over the electoral candidates, just don't have the energy these days.

I am alarmingly of the mood that I will either make a change or shut up, which considering I have no qualifications or responsibility of outlook to change anything, is a fairly dangerous stand to take. But rest assured, it will be shut up all right. Shut up, on the rare occasions I achieve it, becomes me beautifully.

What I am currently annoyed about is an extremely perspicuous article that stated that "Men prefer beautiful women to intelligent". Oh I am not arguing the claim, I have been at the receiving end more than once of that particular charming propensity that males have, among innumerable others. No this is not a male bashing seminar, maybe later, the other standard is "Women prefer rich men to young, good looking, intelligent, humorous, worthy, fill in the blank"

My specific anger is against my own birth star or genes or drop angle. Not only did it decree, no beauty, no feminity, no barbie doll figure, in fact a clear masculine drive, no domestic achievement, no gentleness, no hair, it also made me uncommonly intelligent so I couldn't simply walk up to a plastic surgeon and challenge him to a duel.

Oh yeah, im a proud mensa member, just squeaked in on an iq of 136 (> 130 makes it). I actually went to a meeting and was pleasantly surprised to see I was at least close to the center of attention, not too many women there. But a crowd comprised principally of adolescents from IIT who were thrilled there was free beer didn't work for me, so I bowed out. And being a misanthrope is a delightful triple bonus everywhere in life, as im finding out. They always spot fakes and then torture them with endless conversation

Being above ordinary intelligent means having no one to explain things to you in a language you will understand because all the superer intelligent folks already died or went mad or lie behind barriers of a thousand average people who won't let you pass without drawing blood. I don't get it, what are everyone so threatened by, are insecurities reaching a crescendo these days that we are threatened by everything on principle now?

Being intelligent is the most utterly useless commodity for a man, or a woman, unless it is hidden and applied amorally. It means, you lose interest first, you have low attention span, constant mood swings, constant pressure to live up to some ridiculous label, a complete disenchantment with people starting at a very young age, not one fucking illusion to cling on to, a complete lack of responsibility or morality, paranoia, crippling fear and incipient madness to look forward to. The poster girl for misfit. I was the one standing in the middle of a crowded music room saying "what's the point of this?" at the age of eight.

But its excellent for inducing cold feet in men, party conversation and random bragging, like this one right here.

If I had the patience to apply myself to utterly useless formulae i could have made my parents and the world proud. but, you guessed it, "what's the point of this?" so instead i am reading an article on "men like bimbos" and feeling frustrated that its true. there is no point, should there be?