M to D- Pure breed of thoughts is a myth

It all started when mummy cam e home late after work the other day. It was already dark outside and being late from work is always a turn off for her. I had, apparently, decided to cook that dy and trust me when I say that it's a rare occasion. I like to feel I'm too good a cook to cook often and I like to believe that i leave people craving for this luxury. When in reality, and I know the reality, they secretly wish the recipe does just fine so that I don't start throwing things around in a fit of pique and behave like I just lost a war. 

 Okay so this day, i  think my dish wasn't worth eating, let alone craving, AND mummy wasn't in the right spirit. I settled her down as she came home and then carried on with my work. She tried starting up a conversation a few times and I harshly stepped down on each of them, rubbed my foot on the ground to squash them further and pretended the past few seconds never happened. [Exceedingly contrary to her, in my lows I prefer no company at all, I help myself get into the right frame of mind.] When she couldn't handle me any more (I didn't want her to! That is the whole point of secluding myself) -

Mum: You know what, I know you hate me. What I do not know is why am I all excited to reach home to you guys when I know it's of no good to you. (That's her way of igniting me to saying something atleast, even if in rebel.)

Me:  Mum, you know that's not true.

Mum: Leave the room, please, if you do not want to talk properly.

Me: You know how I hate to fail at anything, that food there- it's shit as fu..I can bet a dog vomiting on it.

Mum: Why didn't you let Sunita help you? (Sunita = the cook)

Me: I wanted to cook it my way, without anybody's interference. My mind isn't programmed for teamwork.(ohh! Bad say)

Mum: You kidding me? You can never be successful without being a good team member. Why are you such an anti-social person? Sweetie, you cannot survive the world by escaping it's ingredients! Tell me why do you run from people?

Me: I do not run from them. If my wavelength with them does not match, I see no point in conversing with them.

(By this time, I already felt like Einstein) 

Mum: Tell me one person whose wavelength matches yours.

(I think, or atleast pretend to. The question had to be rhetorical!)

It's 4 in the morning and I'm still pondering. It's the world against me. I have to save my pride, I have to be different than them. If I start discussing my thoughts with them and come to a compromise, my original ideas will die. The pure race will extinguish! There will only be hybrids left in the world of ideas then. If I stop incoming and outgoing of ideas and views and thoughts to my brain, only then can I be a product of only me, not of the society. I do not want to be a product of the society. Ah! Here is a scholar in making, I thought to myself. Mummy will be proud one day.

Okay, Reality check (I hate them)! Am I taking myself too seriously? There must be more out there who think of them as Einsteins, and unlike me, they might even be real Einsteins. If everybody stops discussing their thoughts, where will new thoughts pop up from. What will be left for us humans to do? We spend 3/4th of our time in discussing views, opinions and ideas, and i do not use discussing as a synonym for expressing.

Oh, and who will win the debate competition in 7th, 8th and 9th grade consecutively, if there are no debates? (A bit for some shameless self-appraisal, if you may :P )
It sure wasn't one man's idea alone, without other's thoughts involved in it, to invent something like the light bulb, or the telephone or the aeroplane, or the scotch brite for that matter. I secretly wish they were though. I guess it's time I realise Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest applies to thoughts and ideas too, for the best!

Now when I think of it, I have no great ideas worth saving from hybridization. Except my new recipe of course, and this too Sunita will hybridize the next time she cooks it. And I'm also sure it will taste better after her hybridizing it. I might even name it the hybridized rice. Then probably ideas are meant to be discussed, commented, compromised and hybridized. Enough of hybridization already? Oh cummon, every time you utter a word, you are actually letting that word be hybridized by the number of listeners, the conscience listeners and the unconscious ones.

Some for the thoughts of a young lady maybe? Go hybridize it now!