Judgment machines
People judge fast. Like a soldier spotting movement in the dark. Clean and quick. But people aren't targets, and life isn't combat.
People judge fast. They see you walk into a room and decide who you are before you speak. It's how we're built. The brain needs it, like a soldier needs to know friend from foe.
I do it too. Someone reminds me of a former bastard of a manager or a mean kid from the neighborhood I grew up in, and that's it. The judgment sticks. Clean and quick, like sorting mail into boxes. No mess, no questions.
Truth is, we're all deep water. You can't see the bottom from the surface. But we keep trying anyway, putting labels on people like price tags at the market. It's easier that way. Doesn't always make it right.