I Hate Word Games

They make me feel incredulously stupid (ignore the big word).

Like the camping game ("WE'RE GOING CAMPING! What are you bringing?!").
It's a word game where you can bring some things, but can't bring others. You try to figure out the rule.

But it's so unrealistic!!

Get this: I can't bring Sabrina, but I can bring Ina. AND THEY'RE THE SAME PERSON!!!!

Oh my gosh I was getting so mad. And, okay, the reason why I was getting all hyped up was because I couldn't figure out the rule. Like I said, I have certain mental inhibitions that drive me insane ("why didn't I think of that!??"). I am utterly astounded by my lack of cognitive or constructive thinking, which I often discover but rebury because the condition is unfavorable.

I read this essay called "Intellect" by Ralph Waldo Emerson. First things, the essay was brilliant (despite its many contradictions), but I really attached myself to this view of intellect constructive vs. intellect receptive.

The essay held that most people have only intellect receptive, at best. A genius is someone with intellect constructive, that is, the ability to combine facts, emotions, and current situations into original, coherent thoughts. I read this, and marked it bright purple. It's something I can relate to.

At the time I believed that I had part of this intellect constructive. After all, I get the glossy "that was deep" look all the time from people who aren't used to me, and sometimes even friends who ARE. I flattered myself a genius.

Alas. I was sorely mistaken. If I can't put two and two together to find the rule for word games, or even come close to considering wondering about something remotely relatable... Then I must be mediocre. Or worse... incredulously stupid.

I include the word "incredulous" for a reason. I speak of mental inhibitions, in that, I have a hard time being original. I glean everything I write, speak, play, and think off what someone else shows me. Again, so much for intellect constructive; not even a thought is my own. I am inauthentic and base in my intelligence, and--can you believe it?--I further handicap myself by refusing to accept other modes of thought aside from previous ones. I hate progress, apparently, and I hate that.

Why am I so stubborn?

Back to word games. "Look how ANGRY she's getting!" one of my friends exclaims. "Don't you get it?" they all wanted to know. "Double syllables?" Really? I'm that stupid? I performed my best distraught sketch, falling over onto Cambry's shoulder, half-laughing, half-self-condemning. My friends tried to mediate my inner crisis, but no one really made me feel better.

"It's okay, Brittney, I don't get it either," they tried to say.

Well, how on Earth does your lack of mental function relate to mine?! I screamed in my head.

I'm obviously still upset about it, and you know what's worse? I feel stupid feeling upset about being stupid. I repeat: I hate word games when I'm the one playing. Publicly failing is something I can handle, but when my intellectual capacity is involved?

That's a little much.