"You're too smart." She first looked down with only her eyes. Now rising, they lifted the rest of her face with them to produce a look of affection and excitement.
"Huh," rolling his eyes, "I hate it when people tell me that. The only difference is my capacity for(more) understanding. When people tell me I'm smarter than them I get embarrassed and nod and say thanks. What I want to say is 'No. You are just as intelligent as I am. All you have to do is let yourself be. Find it within yourself to separate everything in your life into two categories: things you feel comfortable doing and things you do not feel comfortable doing. With this you can distinguish what you are doing for yourself and what you are doing for others. Now ask yourself, what is necessary? A long time ago I chose the path of committing myself to science and love. Find yourself. Then you will be as intelligent as I am.'" He took a sip of water.
She was staring at his upper lip in a daydream, half listening to his words and half silenced by the pounding blood in her ears. After first noticing how glistening his lip was on the glass she noticed he had stopped talking. "What are you doing later?"
A lightning fast countenance, perplexing and painful, took hold before he pushed his chair back, stood up, realigned his coat on his shoulders, and walked away.
Before understanding the non-verbal communication she uttered, "Hey! Wait up!" sitting up in her chair. Once she realized the message of his actions she sat back down, looked at the top of her hands, and chewed off a loose piece of cuticle while looking out the adjacent window.(less)
They say "She's too smart for her own good"
I see the way they sneer
The gleam in their eyes
The look of anger overcomes me
Pushing my boundaries
Making me think outside the coloring lines
(more) The lines break
My heart drops
The outside walls are just like the inside
Lifeless and dull
Maybe being to smart IS a bad thing...(less)
I'm not too smart when it comes to girls. On my first date with Ginny, I spilled mustard all over her shirt because the dang mustard was stuck at the bottom of the bottle. I also told her she was pretty in a canine way. I mean it's true!(more) She looks like a trustworthy and loyal sort of girl, which are attributes usually given to dogs. Am I awkward? Of course. But all that being said, got a second date.(less)
The underside of her coat collar's wet. She's just come from somewhere that's been raining. I check to see which areas in the UK have had rain today, naturally quite a few but she's got a suitcase full of clothes and a crumpled up plane ticket in her pants(more) pocket. So she's come from an airport, the closest of which is Manchester. "She's just come from Manchester airport and I've checked to see if any of the cars outside belong to her, none of them do, so she took a cab. Cooper, I want you to find out which cabbies have been operating in and around Ringway, Manchester this evening. Evans, I want you to visit Miss Fairway's neighbors to see if they've heard anything suspicious." They leave straight away to do what I told them, of course they have, the chief instructed them to follow my instructions without questioning me. I feel as though this may have soured my relationship with them, like they see me as their superior. Their boss. We never really got on well but it was at least pleasant to have some people to talk to. Maybe it's for the best. If I don't have anybody to talk to I'll be able to focus on my work. I take a step back to get a better view. Fully dressed, no tears in clothing, make up unsmudged, what on earth happened here ? I bend down to reach for her hand to check her nails, nothing on the left hand. As I check the right I notice something under her nail. "What did you find ?"
"Skin Anderson, I found the skin of her killer"(less)
She was only 7 years old, but she was wise beyond her years. She had seen things no child should ever see, and she had felt things no human should ever feel. Fiona was brave; she was noble. She exuded more strength than was right for a girl of(more) her age. You see, Fiona was not a normal girl. She was a fighter, a warrior. At the tender age of 5, her parents were brutally murdered, and she barely escaped the attacker's fire. She knew she was in danger, and she ran for miles. She wandered the forest for weeks, until she happened upon a small village, where she was taken in. Though she now had protection from immediate harm in the form of her new family, she had already seen too much. Her experiences may have given her intelligence, but they've taken her innocence. (less)
There was never a time I thought I'd amount to anything, but then I met a teacher who changed my whole outlook. For once, my dull life meant something. I was able to connect with what I was doing and finally feel like I was worth it... However, elements(more) at school made me sure I was going to fail ultimately. They called me a freak, a nerd, and I believed it. Now, looking back, I shouldn't have cared, but I did. I was "too smart" for my own good, and people wanted to use that to their advantage.(less)
He always thought they were too smart for their own good. They would over analyze situations, and it never got them in to any more danger than incorrectly guessing how a suspect would react because the suspects never thought as logically as they did.
(more) But now, bleeding from gunshots, he wondered how they had gotten here. Even with his intelligence, he couldn't understand how he and his partner had ended up on the cold concrete floor, unable to call for help. He reached for his partner, dragging himself through pools of his own blood.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, and his partner's gaze turned towards him, a tired gaze.
"It's all right. We knew it would happen someday," his partner said softly, reaching a hand to take his.
He collapsed on his side next to his partner, clasping his hand. He managed to smile, and his partner returned the smile.
"Thank you, for everything," his partner whispered. "Maybe we'll meet again one day, friend." His partner's eyes closed, but the smile was still on his face.
"Friend," he repeated, coughing violently. He hadn't been called that by anyone in a long time. He had always been too smart to be called "friend." His partner's smile was mirrored on his face as his own eyes closed. Maybe they would meet again, someday. (less)
I beg to differ. I long for the ignorance of my childhood.
Knowledge is a burden, and there's a reason why people of higher intelligence suffer emotionally. Many geniuses go insane from the amount of passion put into their creations. The(more)y do what they are the best at, and do it even when it alienates them from society.
Nicola Tesla. DaVinci. Johannes Sebastian Bach. Vincent Van Gogh.
I wonder what life is like for normal people. The high point of their day would be to eat at Taco Bell, or finding out their favorite celebrity has a sex tape out.
Instead, I try to keep my thought quiet, remain apathetic to many unanswered questions I have about life, the universe, and everything. It's easier just to be dumb. I envy the stupid.
Adults are smarter than children. Everyone knew that, everyone followed that, no one questioned it. The ones who did didn't live to tell the tale.
It happened on a Tuesday. A very sunny Tuesday, which should have showed that something very unusual and/or bad(more) would happen, as it was rarely sunny in the town of Smith, population 8,642, land of the oppressed.
They sat in a classroom. Like usual. Drenchel drowned on as always, about something completely made up or at the very least, censored. No one in the town was allowed to have opinions that conflicted with the government. That was just wrong. Everyone was basically droids. It was like the Hunger Games, the book that Johnny found and smuggled to Bob's house so they could read it. At least in Smith, children weren't brutally murdered in front of the entire population. No they were brutally murdered in some backwoods, never to be spoken of again.
Drenchel stopped, pausing to seeing if anyone had any questions. They never did. But there was a hand in the air today. It belonged to Marcos. Drenchel, for some unknown reason, allowed the boy to speak. In a timid voice, Marcos utter some form of disagreement to what Drenchel had just spent the past hour droning on about. Everyone was aghast. Drenchel didn't respond. He just motioned to the door, and up Marcos went. About 5 minutes later, the class heard a small cry of pain and the sound of axe. Then silence. Drenchel continued, like nothing had happened. Johnny and Bob gave each other glances of terror. They would be next, simply for being the acquaintances of the one who dared question the government.(less)
All my life I was called 'smart'. I got the highest grades, the most awards, the greatest honors, and I always came out with this beaming sense of optimism that I would go far in life. People had such high hopes for me, always telling me to aim for(more) the stars, but what if I aimed to high? It occurred to me, one day, that I may in fact be too smart.
Now I know what you're saying. "Too smart? You sound like a jackass, go open a book or something, nerd." But I'm telling you, what I am cannot be healthy. I take in knowledge so quickly, I comprehend articulate equations and problems at a breakneck speed, and I think outside of the 3-Dimensional box that has been crafted around me by society. I am, by all means, too smart for my own good.
So what do I do? Do I continue being too smart, until I'm drowning in the vast ocean that is my ego? Or do I take things slowly, rewrite my very being for the sake of becoming a more average person. Perhaps I'm just being crazy, and I'm nothing but a smug bastard who loves to pat himself on the back, and every so often, get reminded that he is in fact, a 104.00 Average student...
Or perhaps, I'm not over thinking things and I am in fact, too smart for my own good. (less)
"Be on guard against too much cleverness!" Gautama Buddha says,
"Keep compassion in your heart, don't credit your head!"
Do they listen? No!
(more) "Nevermind" the humans say.
Without all this thinking, how would I get my way?
I'll save time here and save some money there,
I'll worry worry worry
It makes me happy! I swear!
This is good! This is bad!
You need that! It's what they have!
How does this help me?
What's in it for me?
How could thinking be bad?
By now Buddha's frowning,
(A rare occurrence at that)
"Cleverness without compassion destroys, you see
Doesn't it get tiresome, thinking 'me me me'?"
The people stared- this one had them stumped.
Who is this guy, and what is this junk?
"Thinking makes us happy! Can't you see?
How else would I benefit me me me?
Go somewhere else, you're wasting our time.
Why aren't you at your 9-5?"
But one ran forward, screaming and kicking
"Help me Buddha! I CAN'T STOP THE THINKING!"
"Thinking thinking thinking
Been thinking quite a lot
Tsunami of consciousness
Now my thoughts won't stop!"
The smile returned, the hand raised,
"In and out breath, brother. Practice every day."
The tsunami calmed, relaxing its waves
When the stream dried up, only joy remained.
The man smiled, and turned to the crowd
There was only a note, blowing on the ground
"We're putting Buddha on t-shirts, it'll be all the rage,
hope there's no traffic, my car needs an upgrade.
After that we've gotta work, we need money you see.
How else is someone supposed to be happy?"
The man turned to Buddha, unsure on what to say.
Why couldn't they see his Way?
"Cleverness is good, like I said, but too much cleverness leaves you stuck in your head.(less)