not judging

i have a confession to make. i don't judge. i was reminded of a conversation i had with a matey i was yet to get to know (or a MIWYTOGTOK for those who like acronyms) on parliament square.
'i don't judge' i said to him.
'yes you do, you have to, you can't not judge'. he replied.
i was quite drunk at this point and, a little taken aback by the vehemence which greeted my admission, i conceded that perhaps i did judge, if only a little.

replaying this conversation in my head(i know, replaying conversations with strangers in my head, how sad is that?) the other night, i wondered why my confession of not judging upset him so much.

and then it hit me. to judge is to care. either you care about other people enough to bother to judge whether or not they have bothered to meet whatever sartorial/hygiene standards that have been set or you care enough about yourself to bother judging whether or not the person represents a threat or an opportunity. i don't do either.

i don't judge because i don't care. let's face it, we're all just a meaningless jumble of self-aware cells inhabiting slightly under-evolved ape bodies. of which there are already far too many. caring about things implies liking them. and if you know me, you know there is sweet little about this life thing that impresses me very much(apart from rilly, rilly hard drugs and they're no good for you. in the long run).

i, if i'm being frank, and i feel a bit like a frank today, don't care enough about myself or anyone else to bother judging them, it's just not worth the effort. besides, to care is but a hop, skip and a jump to sentimentality and if there's one thing i can't stand, it's that.



postscript: i do, obviously, care about my dogs. but that's it. and how could you judge those cutesy wikkle faces? aww, just look at em! they soooo cute!