The Lottery of Life

Some people really lucked out in life (I realised 'lucked out' could be interpreted with two meanings in either UK or American English > which sort of reminds me of this article). 

The lucky ones are a combination of good looks, charming personalities, great bodies and are all-rounders (psychically and mentally). I hate dislike them. Of course, there are not many out there to hate dislike because there are not many blessed like that. Then there are those who really lucked out and... well, did not draw the best lots in life. I, personally, have not met anyone with the winning combination. Until recently. It is disturbing. I now know how I will react to people like that. 

I know people who are a mix of the winning combinations:

• smart but not good-looking
• smart and charming but not good-looking
• charming but not good-looking and not smart
• good-looking and charming but not smart. 

Right... most of the combinations have the good-looking word in there. I am shallow, so sue me. But recently, I came to know, or came to be acquainted with, a person who is incredibly smart, good-looking (in a boyish cute sort of way), looks like he works out daily (toned, muscled arms, no tummy bulge) and has a semi-charming personality. I am not sure if he is an all-rounder, but I would say that he is already a winner in life. Besides, I think he came from a well-to-do family and that is half the battle won. In the battle of survival. In the battle of life. 

I am not against people who win the lottery of life. I may hate dislike them, but I am not against them. They are allowed to live in the same world that I live in. Really. However, let us be honest. The number one reason why I hate dislike them is because of the intense jealousy envy admiration I have for such people. I admire them greatly, much to the point that I would be lost and tongue-tied when placed in front of their greatness. I cannot (absolutely CANNOT) speak to greatness. The reason is simple. 

I do not want to appear downright stupid in front of greatness. Would you like to appear stupid and show that you have a profoundly lack of knowledge in front of God? Do not answer that! The analogy does not fit. Would you like to appear stupid in front of the one person you greatly wished to impress? Or President Obama? Or your blind date? NO. I know for sure that when, and if I do, open my mouth, I would immediately look and sound utterly stupid. Greatness can probably smell the sour acrid smell of stupidity the moment my mouth opens. So, NO. I like to admire greatness from afar and not have any interaction with them. They probably would not want to share the same breathing air as me anyway.

But here is a little contradiction. I love hearing smart people talk. They can talk about anything (except for politics and religion because I will absolutely zone out in a matter of seconds) and I will listen to them with a besotted look plastered on my face. Greatness mesmerizes me. Moreover, it definitely helps when they are good-looking (in a boyish cute sort of way). It just makes my plastered besotted look tenfold more intense (bordering on near insanity). Added bonus is when they have nice eyes, those clear watery see-through eyes with endless depths that you can drown your socks off in (see example). If such greatness finds it in his heart to regale me with his enticing tales and opinions, all bets are off that I will die of pleasure. Therefore, although I admire greatness from afar, I would love to be in their company or in the near vicinity. Like vultures around a potential carcass. 

Here is another contradiction. As much as I would love to hear greatness talk and tell me his opinions, he should not force me to agree with everything he says. What am I? A naive young lass?! Although in a besotted trance-like state, my brains do process what people say. That is, after the first fifteen minutes of my brains being suspended from reality and all I could think of is how bewitching the muscles moving his mouth are and how captivating his eyes are. After that my brain resumes function and will begin to evaluate the words formed by his moving oral muscles. I will not contradict him or correct him if he happens to be wrong (highly unlikely), but will allow greatness to continue. Tongue-tied, remember? In addition, it gives me a certain petty sense of pleasure to know that greatness has some failings too. But if he asks if I agree on something that I disagree on, I will shrug and feign nonchalance. Greatness deserves to stew in his own (wrong) believes. Besides, I will never be able to argue my point through. Greatness is smart yeah? 

But of course, there are other types of greatness. Greatness that turns up his nose and sniffs the air above your head. He would not deign to talk to you or be around you. In this case, that is not greatness. More like asshole. Greatness has a charming personality and does not choose people he talks to. He talks to everyone. Is friendly to everyone. Accommodates everyone. And so goddamn good-looking and mesmerising that everyone crowds around him just to listen to him. 

So far I have been describing greatness using a masculine term. I sincerely apologise. Greatness can be a him/her, a he/she. But greatness is greatness whatever the gender. 

I also greatly apologise if this post is very unkempt. It is a departure of my usual style. This is verbal vomit style because this topic has been gnawing me for a while and is just begging to be let out. 

But seriously, I do not hate these life-lottery winners. I just dislike them. 

P/s: I highly recommend you watch this comedic duo, Key & Peele. I love them. They are into their third season now.