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This seems like an incomplete, and overly simplified, way of looking of looking at the world. Just because our minds (more “sacks of meat”) cannot grasp the merits of something, does not mean that the merits do not exist.
Books were a beautiful thing, my only source of joy in a gray world I did not understand — a world full of bullies where I ate lunch alone. Suddenly, books and stories were no longer acceptable. The real world was waiting.
“Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner.”