I will never understand why people think “intelligence” to be a quality: In my opinion it’s a curse. yes, this is experience talking.
When you are intelligent, you are blessed with an amount of intellect which is going to facilitate surviving everyday life. If you study you will get good grades. You will get a good job. You will buy a fuel-efficient car. You will invest in property and maybe win a little more than an average person in Poker. You will have your moments of brilliance, and people will laugh at your jokes. Your parents will boast about the grades you got, the competition you won, the books you read, the awards you got. You will have friends. If luck has it, life will be good.
However you will always be very acutely aware of you being intelligent but not brilliant ; How far away you are from ever doing anything genius. In the gallery of life, you will be the curator. You will have an eye for a great piece yet you’ll never be a great painter or a sculptor. If you are lucky you will have some random one night stands with some up-&-coming artists but every night before you go to bed you are destined to mull over your lack of such absolute talent which you get to see every day, sometimes in the shape of a song you heard on the radio, sometimes in the ingenuity of the great advertisement hoarded on your side-walk, sometimes in the painting you saw at a roadside by an ordinary looking bloke. It will just never be you; a genius.
Intelligence to me is like you’re caged in heaven, you can smell it, you can see it, but all from a distance. You shall never be let into these gardens. It’s this dark secret that you’re forced to live with, day-in, day-out . Others around you, in their innocence, pass their compliments and you can never really take it with a just a nod of the head and a “thank you”; There is always that loud internal “little do you know.”
The worst drawback however remains the ability to coin justifications for our shamelessly askew actions. “I love you but I really need to concentrate on my career right now!”, “There’s nothing wrong with smoking up; it’s not addictive”, “ I’ll go on a vacation next year; Right now, I really need to save up for a car”… Every day, we let go of so many “little” things for the sake of the “big” ones. Every day we break hearts, we disappoint, we dream less. We read the best-sellers; we are fans of “Harry Potter” and Umera Ahmed. We analyze and think and ponder and over-analyze. We are probably more depressed and confused than the dumb-bimbo-brigade , but self-preservation has us thinking we are better off. We are the ones who become agnostics; we are the ones who become the fundamentalists. We run in circles, trying to do what is right, and most often than not, miserably fail at it. We try alternate life styles, we experiment. We are experts on theology and philosophy and yet nothing cures the forlornness that incubates in our heart, haunting our days and nights.
I guess, all this leads to one question: exactly how does one go about being intelligent?
Easy; You need to be a genius.