Why are you smelling? What are you smelling? What do you smell of?
I’m not surprised it’s scientifically proven that the sense of smell is, of all the human senses, the one most connected to memory ( You didn’t know that? Wow, too bad.) My strongest human sense is my sense of my smell. If something is burning far away, I smell it even when no one around me does. If I smell something this year and smell it five years later, I recall EVERYTHING. I recall the place, the time, the circumstance.
Months back, a friend passed by and although I did not see his face, I knew it was him because I knew his smell. I do smell people. I know I may sound like a weirdo but it’s scientifically proven that in the same way we have unique fingerprints, everyone has a distinct smell.
No, not bad body odour. If not for the disguise of perfumes, what I’m saying would resonate with more people. It’s really easy to notice.
What do you smell of? What do you smell most? I hope you don’t make the mistake of continuously poking your nose into what is not yours, smelling people’s mistakes. Why would you keep making such a mistake? There are new and better mistakes to make, aren’t there?
I’m not shading anyone here. Learn to smell the good in people. I mean we say it often but never smell.
Smell, darling. Smell well-well.
Smiles and smells apart, I’ve always known hope is an extreme sport and that the world is a mad place but some things are just too off-track that I wonder why on earth they’re still common. The planned blog post for this week – actually fortnight because I now post every two weeks (hope you’ve been noticing the changes?) – was body shaming. I decided to play low and talk about smells because blogging is meant to be lighter than fiction and poetry. Right? Well, today for the triggered section we have culture enthusiasts who vehemently fight for inhuman cultures that make no sense. I’d be more specific about such empty traditions in the next triggered section in two weeks ( subscribe if you haven’t). I’d just drop a line I wrote a few weeks back:
“The most disturbing pressure of culture: to be what everyone is assumedly accustomed to, as if everybody is the same, as if my name is everyone. I am not everyone. I am not culture. I am me. I do not care to do what everybody does.”
I recently finished Dale Fife’s A Secret Place and I’m returning to a short story collection you can’t guess. In case you’d love some quick online read, you can read a 2018 short story by Kate Folk, a Wallace Stegner fellow in fiction at Stanford, about a head growing out of a floor here. You can also read here, a more recent, lengthier but equally creepy story by her published in the New Yorker about three weeks ago.
Back to smell
Keeping it short, what do you smell of? What’s your favorite smell? What are you smelling? Why are you smelling? I hope this year’s Easter still smells good for you. I wish you shiny lights and the best of smells in these times.
I hope you smell good.
Obviously, I’m not referring to anybody’s body odour.
An ending after an ending. Yeah. I just created a Facebook page for this blog – show some love – even though I barely use Facebook! Click the social media icons in the “Follow Ife” section of this site.