Smell

Ah, smell- the missing sense. I'm often quite jealous of dogs and sharks for their ability to pull molecules out of the air and analyze them by pure instinct. Our sense of smell is like the vague awareness of a light seen through your closed eyelids.

Smell is also our most abstract, and indefined, sense. We usually agree that shit smells bad, for example, but how do you describe a smell? I wish that I could rely for a time only on my sense of smell, so that I could dive headfirst into a world of abstraction.

Furthermore, I generally enjoy the smell of my own honest sweat.

The sense of smell is closest to the oldest parts of our brains – smell is memory, smell is feeling, smell is emotion.

A woman first uses a deoderant to smell less,
and then uses a perfume to smell more.

The sense of smell transports a person more than any other sense. If Hollywood knew how the sense of smell worked, movies would go out of style and we'd all go to theaters to slip a gas mask over our faces and live virtual-reality stories that would make our dreams seem like lame reruns of »The Golden Girls.«

In statements people use this to indicate great intimacy. Smell is as hard to describe as sound. Because there are no good developed words for it, it is a quite unconscious sense.