I know someone, a woman, who does not like music, animals and other things which I will explain.
I like to listen to music, even as background for pleasure, feeling and mood or as a purpose. I love the melodies of Jazz, the poetry in French songs and the beat of Latin music. I like music which tears my soul, bring memories and open my inner emotion.
Not her! She lowers the volume to the inaudible point, turn it off when she has company in the house and has no distinct preference about the music she wants to hear.
Some people like to move to music. No, she does not, she says “I don’t know how to dance” and she won’t even try a wiggle.
I like pets, any type of pets. My grandmother, which whom I live as a child, had birds, fishes, dogs and cats. Not at the same time, but we always had one or two type of animal in the house. I like the look of pets, behavior and attitude. They make me laugh and soothe me.
No and no, pets are for the outside. She does not play or caress them; she does not feel anything for them. No pain, no joy, no love and interest. I feel abnormal for having a picture of my friend’s pet on my mobile screen, Pinky is a cute dog.
She has little interest in art. A museum, unless it is famous for a visit to say “have been there”, is boring for her. She does not see aesthetic in everyday item. A chair is a chair and when I see the extra chair she question-mark, in her head, what I see in it, “as long as I can sit in it”, its fine. If she cannot go beyond chairs so let’s forget about painting, sculpture and the rest of the artsy work, that’s a glitch.
In a supermarket she doesn’t browse, she goes straight to the item she wants and that’s it, she is done.
She gets quite annoy when I delay looking at things heightening my curiosity. I waste her time. Shopping with her, I can talk thinking she is next to me then look up at a stranger looking at me with big eyes and raised eyebrow.
The paradox is that she likes shopping mall and I don’t, they tire me.
For food is easy, she lives on raw vegetables and fruits. She does not give a hoot about cooking, recipes and the little secret in dishes.
Don’t ask her what she wants to eat, food is food!
She has no special comfort food or maybe yoghurt.
However, I did succeed in introduce her to Japanese food. Now, she loves vegetable sushi.
She is not totally void of interest. She loves TV but not the news, her favorites are series and soaps. I mean, almost all the soaps including the one from the Philippines and South America. You know the one were dubbing is done at a different speed from the lips. Also, she enjoys reading money-making articles, religious books and inspirational novels.
That’s strange because, I like TV news and hate the books she reads.
She likes Indian movies, you know the one where lovers never kiss and the whole cast burst dancing and singing at the most impromptu moments. Romantic movies are also her favorites.
The movies which can keep me up, because I can sleep watching movies, are thrillers and fact based stories. I do have a weakness for music-hall like West Side Story, Cabaret, Chicago, all that Jazz and even the old movies from Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly.
She loves to talk on the phone; her phone is so mobile that she walks with it outside when she uses it and when she runs out of credit she uses mine then delete, sometimes, the number called. She has friends and gets invite for wedding, funeral, pre-wedding parties, baby showers, bible studies, get together to get together and get well soon at the hospital.
I never go since at the beginning I was voted “persona non-grata”, so I decided to keep my status.
Maybe, I think, she is a minimalist. Everything is short, precise and concise with no allowance for waste. It must be good, it enables you for less choices and consequently a saving on the decision making process.
Is she a voyeur? Not the kinky kind, but the one who enjoys watching to satisfy repressed emotions. It could be that, I noticed that her social network on FaceBook is quite heavy. She looks and looks at her friend’s profile but does not respond.
I really do not know how to categorize this void of desire that everyone indulge in.
Is it infantile trauma?
She loves babies and I tried to teach her baby talk – “Agaga googoo”, “aniewniewniew”, “gooloo gooloo”.
She says am silly.