Interesting is not a compliment

Hell no. Negative.

And yet there’s always something that draws us to people who are smart and directionless, obscenely hot and single, druggies, weak willed executives, rich living on less than 3000 a week, copywriter turned fashion designer, painter with no concept of credit cards and therefore only capable of cash transactions (in hundreds of thousands), and high strung yoginis.

I’ve met them all and I don’t want to get stuck in an island with them for the sake of my sanity. No, not all of them together because they are only good in tasting portions.

But I have to admit that they are fun to watch from a distance. And for a time I also wanted the adjective plastered on my forehead, so I did my share of sporting strange hairstyles (albeit done in bad taste) and pa-cool moves. The ordeal also involved deliberately getting drunk in the most populated bars and going to class the following day hungover–wearing the same set of clothes. In Filipino, that’s kulang sa pansin or lacking enough attention.

Jesus, that was pathetic.

My quest to become interesting, however, has taught me that there is an expanse of subjects worth talking about and they prove handy in cocktail parties, networking opportunities, cigarette breaks, and all other occasions that require a shitload of small talk. Trust me, for introverted types (latest MBTI result showed I am an INTP, but no guarantee of accuracy), small talk is emotionally taxing. Brutal, even.

Interesting. The word is neutral at best. But it does not guarantee anything like extended conversations, friendship, second dates, love affairs, profit, sex, fame, fortune, bragging rights, and other unquantifiable benefits.

Because, dear reader, a whore who quotes Hegel can be interesting but so is extreme idiocy.


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