Welp. I spent the drive home from work wandering from one thought to another, as I always do, and somehow wandered back to thinking about the good-for-nothing lawyer I once hired after having been reminded of him earlier. I thought about how he compares to what I know of resident criminal lawyer Truean, and my experiences with police officers in the past. And the more I stewed the more I revolved around an idea that's been gnawing at the core of my being for as long as I've had thoughts about society at large.
Why does it not matter what I think?
I suppose it's the most fundamental question in politics, and for that matter the most fundamentally juvenile question a person can ask. Why not? Because it just doesn't matter, that's why. And in the course of immersing myself in politics and law as I have, I could probably come up with a half dozen perfectly good and rational reasons why not.
But I don't want to. It's the schism in my mind, and has been years. I hate that it's supposed to be a juvenile question, and I hate myself for asking it. I hate it took me this long to put it into so few words. I hate that I can come up with so many good ways to answer it, because I don't want to hear those answers. I want validation; I want to ask it of someone that it would actually matter to, and I want to watch them sputter helplessly as they fail to think of a good way to respond. I hate that I'll never get that reaction, (because aside from the obvious counterpoint that if I can answer it someone in a position of authority over me certainly could) the fact that if they were willing to acknowledge it as a valid question, I wouldn't be asking it. And I hate myself for wanting the validation of an answer in the first place.
I hate that I'm getting tied up in a knot over angry daydreams that I don't want to be thinking about anyway, because I know it won't go anywhere. And I hate that it won't go anywhere. Fuck this, I'm playing videogames.