trails of thought

Fictional Us / Decency’s Place

I mentioned the idea that I have a wonderful skillset: to keep tons of data in stasis over a long period of time, until it settles logically into a pleasing or useful arrangement:

I have special skills, this I realise now: a dear person close to me lightly described them recently as being akin to a kind of Sherlock Holmes mind: I curiously maintain in stasis so many apparently disparate pieces of data – sometimes for months – until they suddenly settle into a puzzle-resolving pattern that resolves this puzzle thus laid out.

 

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I’m not saying I am as good as Sherlock Holmes in any way at all – Holmes was after all an invention of fiction, and I find it difficult to conceive I am a fictional character (except where the things I do are influenced and nudged by the events around me: in that sense of character, we are all being bent out of shape; we are all fictional beings to a greater or lesser extent …).

But I do do similar things.  And it’s exhausting.

And I’d like it to be less exhausting.  Which is why I need the release of physical love and affection: the joy, the friendship, the amiableness even.  Just at simple, day-to-day levels.

 

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Can you all understand that?

And in that, like Sherlock Holmes I am not – although I do have a brother much wiser than me with a very particular name; and who may indeed do stuff I have no idea about.  Weird tangential relationships with women have flitted through my life too: again, these mysterious beings have remained mysterious to me.  And in the round, and overall, my life is full of puzzles: the only thing I’ve never done, nor ever wanted to do, is drugs – where not prescribed, you understand – which I get the feeling Holmes found necessary in the absence of an appropriate affective and intimate relationship with anything more than data.

But a final point I’d still like to deal with today, before I finish.

That word “stasis” is defined by my Google (at least) as:

a period or state of inactivity or equilibrium.
“long periods of stasis”

But also in quite a dramatically opposite sense:

civil strife.

How on earth can this be so?  How on earth has a language come to describe within the same space such diametrically opposed concepts?

Does civil strife – not just societal but also marital – come from long periods of inactivity?  Is that what we are learning here?

How the absence of change changes us for the worse.

And if it is the case, what can I do?  Do I need to impose – is that fair or kind?  Or should I continue to run the risks of falling ill again in the presence of sad jealousy caused by childhood trauma?

I want to help, but when you reach out to help and here you are also rejected, where on earth can a decent solution be found?  Where is decency’s place in this whole damn mix?

 

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