Curiosity Wonders

Hey…
Have you ever wondered what makes the world, tick? As in, where does the sun go when it sets? And where does the moon appear from? Why does bread go into the toaster nice and soft, yet comes out hard and crunchy, sometimes burnt? What about those people on the television screen? Who are they, and where do they come from? What's their story?
I guess I'm just asking if you're as….as….
Curious.
That's the word. I asked mum. For some reason, she chuckled when I asked her. I wonder why….
Anyway, answer my question if you will; are you just as curious as I am?

****

Hi.
Have you ever understood how fascinating people are? At lunch today, I was sitting inside, reading the dictionary (it's the only big book on our class shelf…I've read all the others), when I heard a commotion outside. When I reached the window, I saw one of the bigger kids beating up someone from the class below me. They were yelling something that I couldn't quite hear, so I left my little world and ventured into theirs. Standing on the sidelines with the other kids, I watched as the younger one continued to grovel on the ground, while everyone else was either yelling encouragement to the bully, or screaming at him to stop. But no one moved.
I was curious again. If they hated this act of obvious violence, why weren't they doing something to stop it then? Was yelling and screaming really that effective? I tried to add my voice to the din, but I just couldn't match their noise level. I was pondering over the fact as to why the teachers hadn't been drawn to the crowd yet, when one of my neighbouring classmates yelled, "How would you like it if it was you getting hit?"
That struck me. How would he like it? I know I wouldn't like it, but what about other humans. The younger kid obviously didn't like it, but maybe the bully was trying to provoke him into returning the bashing. So I stepped out of the circle (another curious matter when I think about it now. Why stand in a circle?), and walked over to the bully. I watched him for a few more hits before throwing any caution I may have had to the side and punched him as hard as I could.
Turns out, that he didn't like it either. The teachers certainly didn't approve of it either. Neither did my mum when she picked me up. When asked to explain why I punched him, I told them about my theory, letting slip the whole story in the process. Kinda had to. I got scolded, even though I didn't cause that much harm to him. I was told I was unreasonable. So I asked them, what they would have done if they had seen the fight. Would they have tried to break it up, would they have hung back with the other kids, or would they have turned a blind eye to it like they had previously. Couple with that and the fact I refused to apologise to him even though I 'hurt his feelings', I've been suspended for a week.
Amazing.
Mere words can hurt humans just as much as a punch to the eye. Humans really are a mystery.

****

Hello.
Don't give me that look. I know it's been years since we last talked. I've been busy. Listen, have you considered that last question I put upon you all those years ago? About the fascination that is a human being? No? Well, that's all I've thought about since. I've read a lot of books, watched a few documentaries, listened to few tall tales, but nothing has satisfied my thirst for understanding. That's why I've come crawling back to you. You seem to hold the answer. I don't know how, but you do.
You know, after the bully incident, I use to bike down to the nearby park some afternoons, and just sit on the swings, watching everyone around me. I quickly learnt to stay away from the seating around the car park, especially the one closet to the creepy van, and away from the woodlands that the adults seem to disappear into. Unfortunate for some, they didn't learn as fast. Read about their tales in the newspaper. Sometimes they make the evening news. If only they had heeded my warning whenever they ventured too far away from the safety of the jungle gym. But they didn't. Now that I think about it, no one really wanted to hang around me much those days. Maybe that's why no one ever rushed over to the swings when I was there…
But anyway, back on topic. I would sit there for hours, just slightly swinging as I watched people come and go. The kids whose imaginations allowed them to become anything they wanted to be. They would jump from platform to platform, growling playfully, screeching at the top of their lungs from the monkey bars, acting like our fellow primates would, or simply stay closed within the climbing structure, acting like their parents, cuddling teddy bears and dolls to their chests as if they were babies. There were others whom would just sit in the sandbox or nearest patch of dirt and create structures, such as castles or race car tracks. Some would just shovel the dirt into their mouths when their parents weren't watching.
As for the parents themselves, they were just as interesting to watch. Some mothers would calmly sit and watch their children interact, a small, really caring smile gracing their face, which only vanished if someone got hurt or needed to be told off. Others would wave their children away and sit with their friends, gossiping (as I later learnt to call it) over whom was sleeping with whom, comparing the size of their wedding rings or how much their respective partners earned. Those same ladies would purposefully turn their bodies away from the younger girls, the 'nannies' or 'au pairs' I mean, muttering away about how some people just didn't have the respect or brains not to flash their billions for the rest of the world to see. It was either that, or how bad the parents were for not looking after their children properly. I always chuckled quietly at that tale, seeing as it was usually their kids that ate dirt or picked their nose and ate that as well. If their fellow gossipers weren't there, they usually held a phone in hand, either tapping away at it furiously, or yapping into it like their life depended on it.
People.
It was rare for me to wonder too far away from the playground, but as I grew older dear friend, I was drawn towards the depths of the park, wondering what it held. I learnt of how teenagers liked the privacy of the shaded trees, as did creepy men with a range of colourful sweets and foul smelling garments. How some adults biked or ran along the twisted paths for miles at a time, not stopping even if they were red in the face and couldn't even produce any more sweat to cool them down. I had occasionally came across some whom had collapsed across park benches, gasping for breath, like when my goldfish was left out of water for a little while. Sometimes I crossed people who hadn't been running, but sitting on those benches for long periods of time. These people usually wanted food or money.
I made friends with one of these people. He would answer any questions I had about the park, about the world, and the people that inhabited it. Turns out, he was an observer, just like me. We would sit together for hours on end, never really talking unless we had to, just watching the world go by. We would observe people's behaviour, making conclusions as to what they did day to day, or simply listen in on random conversations. Unfortunately my dear friend disappeared a few months ago. I still have no idea if he was simply removed by the cops, or if he died of that illness he obviously had but wouldn't tell me about.

****

Hey,
Have you ever watched a movie and wondered why the people do the things they do? Obviously it's scripted, but would people really do that in real life? What draws them to race a car at full speed down a busy highway, inflicting danger to everyone around them as they try to avoid the cops? Do they simply love the thrill of going excessively fast? If so, maybe they should become race car drivers. In the movies it's because they've done something bad, but why race away and draw obvious attention to yourself? If it was me, I would have committed the crime and hidden in plain sight. But I'm a good girl. I would never do something like that. Plus, I don't have a car or drivers license, so I can't test my theory.
Another thing that annoys me about movies is the radical change of emotions the actors seem to have. Does a normal person really jump from a happy one minute, to a sobbing mess another? Sometimes they go a mad rampage, all because of one little thing or word. I asked mum about it and she just hushed me, telling me not to analyse the movie and just enjoy it. She hardly ever chuckles at my questions these days. I wonder why…
But, I can't help but analyse the film. The engineering of them intrigues me. Especially those sappy romance ones mum loves to watch. I can't figure them out. The main characters go from hardly knowing each other to being so madly in love they'd break any rule to be together. All in a matter of days in most cases. The act that gets me the most though, is when the female lead runs into the torrential downpour, into the arms of her lover where they share a passionate kiss. How is that romantic? Is there something so alluring about being absolutely soaked to the skin that they just can't resist it? After watching one of these movies with mum, I walked to the front door and stood on the porch for a while, just watching it bucket down. While it was amazing to watch, I didn't see what was so amazing about it. So I decided to act like one of those girls, and dashed out onto the driveway. That's where mum found me, standing stock still in the middle of muddy puddle, looking up at the heavens. As you can imagine she screamed at me to get inside, demanding to know what had possessed me to think it was a good idea to stand out there for god knows how long. All I said in reply was, 'Exactly. Why is such a good idea? What's so great about it?' She then realised what I was talking about and sighed dramatically. I could literally see her body deflate in exhaustion as she ushered me back inside to get warm. A little while later, when she had gone to bed, I returned to the porch and just watched the rain, warmly tucked up in a blanket. I still didn't understand why the heroines found the rain so amazing. But then I remembered they were usually running towards their loved one. Maybe that was what was missing. The attraction of another human being. I shall have to test this theory out later.

****

Nope. Torrential rain isn't amazing when you're in the middle of it. Even if you are kissing someone you love dearly. Movies are so weird. They have no human perception at all.

****

Mum's starting to worry about me. I can tell. She wonders why I do things I do, and why I don't bring any friends home. In fact, she wonders if I have any friends at all. I can tell. It's written all over her. Her body language is so obvious to read. I do, but they're not the kind of people she would like to meet. We usually hang out in cafes or the common teenage haunts, discussing the world. We never go to the movies, and if we go to parties it's only to observe our fellow teenagers. Will, that's the only reason I do. The others do seem to let loose a little then, drinking their beers and dancing manically to whatever trashy music is being blasted from the obscenely big speakers. Everyone else just 'dances' or pash for the world to see, or most commonly, stumble around as the effects of the alcohol take over. I've have had a few offers to dance before the few times I've accepted the boy tries to go for the casually grope. Not fun. So I just sit near the middle of the dance floor, off to the side and observe.
Everyone has gotten use to my behaviour by now, as I have gotten use to theirs. But they still fascinate me. I love to see the mixed or repressed behaviours that become exposed under the influence of alcohol, usually filing each piece of new information away in my mind as it comes. Teenagers are still maturing young beings, so whatever brain processes they may have are only half thought through (or not at all in some cases I've observed), so-so watching my fellow peers revert to that of a typical caveman, possessed by their animal instincts, it's truly amazing to watch. Sometimes, they just let that childlike side they truly haven't let go but are trying desperately to repress loose, and the wonderment that comes from their mouths under the influence of alcohol. Fascinating. I've had some people approach me in school as to what they did the night before, curious for answers, or asking for me not to spread my knowledge of such behaviours to their friends. I shrug it off and say I won't. Besides, none of it is ever that note worthy. It's normal teenage behaviour. Nothing for them to get so jumpy over. But that's not the real reason my mum worries about me. You see, she found my bug collection behind the house the other day. Well, more accurately, she found me with my bug collection. I was in the middle of one of my experiments. You see friend, I had watched this-this, cartoon the other day about some cartoon animals. In it was a spider that screamed when crushed under a human's foot. In fact, each time a bug or animal was hurt, it screamed, or made a terrified face. Now, I know spiders have millions of eyes, and-and that everyone says they're just as terrified of us as we are of them, but what noise did they really make when squished? So I grabbed my recorder and started squashing some of my bugs.
Regrettably mum destroyed the recordings and bugs so I never got to find out.

****

Hi….
I've said it once, and I'll say it again.
Humans are such fascinating creatures. The way we talk, the way we walk, eat, sleep, breathe, everything! There's just so much to discover, to document! Did you, did you know dear friend, that if-if a human's core body temperature drops beneath or goes above a degree of the average 37.0 ˚ C they can die? And-and that, despite how tough we all seem to make ourselves out to be, we have soo many weaknesses, that can cause a range of ways for us to die? Humans really are incredible. I've pinpointed it all to our brains. Our brain! All the different functions it creates, the-the signals it produces, the thoughts and fears it stores! I often wonder what leads a person to do the things they do, the things they seem to, create! But when I pick at their brains, asking them about each action, they just shrug their shoulders or don't reply at all.
It was my curiosity that led me here. Books, tales, movies, documentaries; none of it seemed to satisfy my need to know. So I expanded my research. I started with the more simple minded of animals, looking into the way their brains made their body tick. Once I had gathered as much information as I could on that species I move on and up, slowly gaining some understanding. But nothing compared to that of a human.
It took me a while, but eventually I found a resource that held all the information I needed. It was fascinating. I had never seen anything like it.
But, when I tried to show my findings to my fellow peers, they seemed to draw away from me in fear. That confused me. Why would they do such a thing? Obviously I needed to do more research. I admit, I-I... lost myself, a little, in my explorations, losing any friends I may have had left, and though it saddened me for a while, I eventually came to understand it as a stepping stone to where I am today.
These people watching me now shake their heads and murmur for god's graces under their breath. They ask me, why did I do this? Why didn't I just go to university where all this would have been taught to me, like anyone else my age? This confuses me. I'm confused...I was at uni. That's where I met him. Dear friend, imagine my amazement when I met a professor whom allowed people to pick at his brain, and actually encouraged his students to do so! It was as if all my dreams came true!

Though, now that I consider it, I guess he didn't mean it.

Well,

Not, literally, anyway...