The Compulsive Squire

Where Outstanding Humour Meets Desperate Boredom

Tag Archives: mind

Is Reality Real? Are You In A Simulation?

Welcome to The Simulation Argument. Feel free to leave your sense of self at the door. Sit back, and allow yourself to have everything you were ever sure of, second guessed by the wonderful intellect of Kurzgesagt & Vsauce3.
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What Are You? You Are Two.

You. Are an infinitely complex being. And not just the ways that make it difficult for you to find a partner. Watch this 2 part collaboration from Kurzgesagt & CGP Grey and try to figure out what makes you, you.

A Vivid Journey of Realisation Pt 2: “Depth, Not Volume”

Click here to catch up with Pt 1.

But even the nerd and the jock can agree on at least two things.

But even Hotshot Harry and Paranoid-Pete can agree on at least two things.

So I’m sitting in Costa Coffee like an anecdote opener with no build up; awkwardly. I’m awaiting my companion’s arrival when suddenly an inner nervous disposition strikes. Although a normal James Franco-like character would sit by himself confidently, maybe being entertained by the movement of a light spot on the wall as the door opened and closed, my paranoid inner-Toby Maguire begins plotting unnecessary aspects of the coming encounter. An array of chairs are available and I have a couple extra moments – neglecting preparation of indescribably pointless details seems totally folly. C’mon mind, let’s take the mental tour of torture, starting with where we sit. Do we place ourselves close to the window? Well, exposure to the world and an increased chance of detection by anyone familiar may not be what my accomplice wants. Negotiating the situation so the line, “Oh, how about we sit where people can’t see us.” is something my evidently low self-esteem wants to avoid at all costs. However, gazing out on to the nihilists, nerdowells and neanderthals that inhabit my local area could provide a constant reservoir of entertainment and discussion. Or perhaps further back? Hidden, intimate, dependent on words and looks alone. The necessity for flowing, deliciously light conversation is at its peak. Laughs and smiles mean more when there’s nothing else to distract, as does awkward pauses and look aways. With all the passersby and background noises stripped away and you have only the others company to source entertainment from (and vice versa), will the person opposite have a good time with the hope of doing it again, or will it end with a hesitant hug cut even shorter by a sprint to the bus. Well thank you brain for creating such a lovely- oh right, you’re not done yet.

Do we sit on the leather couches? Given the comfort and space awarded with the 2-seater-set-up, can I trust a hand won’t openly scratch my lower regions or a feminine ‘both legs folded a top the cushion’ stance won’t be adopted as a sink into behaviours only seen within one’s living room…or is a relaxed me, a more attractive me? It’s almost become a back and forth between myself and a brain insistent on being the contrarian.

Brain: How about glancing at the menu and deciding what you want now?

Me: Makes sense. I’ll at least use this time to make up my mind rather than later getting accused of spending 10 minutes looking at a spot of reflected light on the wall.

Brain: But if you decide now, it’ll look like you’re getting the same old thing you always get. That just seems boring and unadventurous.

Me: Ok then, I’ll just pretend to make up my mind on the spot.

Brain: And if you get caught acting? Well that’d be even worse. Well done, dickhead, you tried to appear cool and impulsive, turns out your even more pathetic than that guy struggling to figure out which button hole he’s missed, staring at his reflection in the coffee shop window-.

She arrives.
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A Vivid Journey of Realisation: “Alcohol Free”

Thinking back, the day started off a fairly boring actually – which, in turn, might make this an equally boring anecdote opener, but bear with. You see I didn’t know stumbling through the local high street, letting my mind glaze over miscellaneous, egotistical advertising like soulless factory line worker #4 in the Krispy Kreme factory going through the motions, would lead to a vivid journey of realisation into my own psyche. It was a deal I wasn’t aware they apparently give away at Costa Coffee with every blueberry muffin, which at some point it had become customary (nay socially required), to eat with a knife and fork. Yeah, discoveries could be made in the tiniest, most unassuming of places and like a curious toddler crawling around their single mother’s cupboards, anything uncovered could potentially leave me shaken.

“…And so the family wore red to honor the memory of the blood that stained the streets the day their father was killed by Microsoft.”

The plan for the afternoon: meet a friend for coffee. I don’t often find myself meeting for mid-afternoon coffee. It feels a very ‘business’ thing to do that only regular suit wearers, art exhibit curators and the cast of Made in Chelsea partake in. A world away from my partially-posh-post-pseudo-art student lifestyle. But this was more of a reacquaintance hookup, with a friend I hadn’t had the pleasure of being around in years. And we had to do something that provided enough opportunity for chat while also giving colourful yet meaningless artwork on the walls to distract enough while thinking of new topics if conversation ever ran flat. So coffee at 3. Eating and drinking seems to be the only thing that entertains someone in their 20s. After several hours thought I could only come up with Xbox and STI distribution; and those commonly take place indoors. Plus I have it on good knowledge that women tend to fake interest in one while interest diminishes in the other. Something I at least don’t want to happen until after I’ve stared at a Jackson Pollock for 24 seconds wondering how Ollie Locke does it.
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