(no subject)
just had the best walk home. thank you, my friend, my muse, for stirring in me these lively thoughts.
it's much like a dream overall. i had my hands full between walking charlie and walking my bike, so the profound thoughts of the early part of the walk are hazy and lost. i just remember that they were amazing. the thoughts near the end of my walk were more clear as i arrived home, but now those have faded a bit as well.
oh well.
i began with thinking about personalities and motives. i was thinking about RM and the conversation prior to the walk.
i don't believe that rm has a genuine interest in many things. not in an assertive, confident kind of way, not in an "i don't care if i'm the only one who likes this, i think this is freaking awesome" kind of way. it's more of a defensive device, that if she knows a bit of everything, then she is safe from persecution, she is able to chime into a conversation, she is eligible to be invited. as a person with only one skill of swinging a hammer has less chance of being hired to build a house, she has learned how to swing a hammer, use a drill, seal a door - but not very well. she will balk when presented with an alternative opinion, admitting too readily that she is wrong but you are right - and she tries to cite an actively open mind to any of those opinions that you have offered, even if they are drastically different, she will support your side just as readily as she will proclaim her own.
i feel as though i'm simply reiterating the same point. i may proof and revise this later.
anyway.
i also thought of BK (not the fast food joint) and of her personalities and motives. the problem with bk is that i actually don't know her motives. she has such an overbearing personality that it's hard to get close to her. furthermore, she talks a lot of being successful, of knowing all the right moves... but she's not going anywhere. all i ever hear is that she's starting something amazing, and she's so excited.
i think that's her problem, though. she can't follow through on anything.
what i can't figure out, though, is: what does she want? there are the surface wants, sure, the sex, the crazy times, the funny stories, the food, the money, the friends. but what's below the surface?
every time i think i see, every time i think i got her figured out, she does something completely out of left field.
or she doesn't do anything at all.
when i was growing up, i would play out back in the fields behind my house. i would run around and explore with my dogs, trespassing, sure, but the land was large enough that i could hide in them for hours, even if the grass itself barely reached the tops of my tennis shoes.
my games were often adventurous and/or murder mysteries. my dogs and i were always on the trail of some dastardly villain who had stolen my lover, a beautiful maiden who cried out to me from her prison, her voice carried on the wind, her trace scent lingering on the foliage and had traversed.
i was never the villain, either. this carried over on the school playground, as well - i was always the valiant hero, or i wouldn't play.
thanks to buffy and xena, i could be the dashing hero without being a man. i could be a hero just the way i was, without a penis, without the inherent strength, without the broad shoulders and the bulging muscles. i didn't want breasts, but i never wanted a penis. i never had a male love interest.
when a challenge is presented, i rise to it. i am eager for it because they come so infrequently. the challenge to help with the playground, the challenge to swap a data projector in ten minutes. when charlie was wandering around a backyard and began fighting something, i didn't care what it was, i ran to him, ready for action, ready to fill in that last piece of the puzzle, the "what was he fighting," as soon as i could so that i could then siphon through plans of how best to deal with whatever he was fighting. racoon? kick it off and grab the dog to let the racoon run away. snake? that woulda been more complicated. furthermore, my visibility was so limited, i would have had to have been right on top of charlie's antagonist, and if it were truly dangerous, i would just have to bear it.
but i was not going to stand back and let something hurt my dog.
i feel like i'm standing back now, though, with someone else, someone who's also important. it's driving me crazy. in my story, the main character holds everything back, keeps everyone away, and as she does that, she taps a stick. tap. tap. tap. every tap is an urge to say something, every tap is pushing down those dangerous words. like my character, i tap. my fingers, my toes. tap tap tappa tap.
then i smile, i nod.
tap. tap. tap.
it's much like a dream overall. i had my hands full between walking charlie and walking my bike, so the profound thoughts of the early part of the walk are hazy and lost. i just remember that they were amazing. the thoughts near the end of my walk were more clear as i arrived home, but now those have faded a bit as well.
oh well.
i began with thinking about personalities and motives. i was thinking about RM and the conversation prior to the walk.
i don't believe that rm has a genuine interest in many things. not in an assertive, confident kind of way, not in an "i don't care if i'm the only one who likes this, i think this is freaking awesome" kind of way. it's more of a defensive device, that if she knows a bit of everything, then she is safe from persecution, she is able to chime into a conversation, she is eligible to be invited. as a person with only one skill of swinging a hammer has less chance of being hired to build a house, she has learned how to swing a hammer, use a drill, seal a door - but not very well. she will balk when presented with an alternative opinion, admitting too readily that she is wrong but you are right - and she tries to cite an actively open mind to any of those opinions that you have offered, even if they are drastically different, she will support your side just as readily as she will proclaim her own.
i feel as though i'm simply reiterating the same point. i may proof and revise this later.
anyway.
i also thought of BK (not the fast food joint) and of her personalities and motives. the problem with bk is that i actually don't know her motives. she has such an overbearing personality that it's hard to get close to her. furthermore, she talks a lot of being successful, of knowing all the right moves... but she's not going anywhere. all i ever hear is that she's starting something amazing, and she's so excited.
i think that's her problem, though. she can't follow through on anything.
what i can't figure out, though, is: what does she want? there are the surface wants, sure, the sex, the crazy times, the funny stories, the food, the money, the friends. but what's below the surface?
every time i think i see, every time i think i got her figured out, she does something completely out of left field.
or she doesn't do anything at all.
when i was growing up, i would play out back in the fields behind my house. i would run around and explore with my dogs, trespassing, sure, but the land was large enough that i could hide in them for hours, even if the grass itself barely reached the tops of my tennis shoes.
my games were often adventurous and/or murder mysteries. my dogs and i were always on the trail of some dastardly villain who had stolen my lover, a beautiful maiden who cried out to me from her prison, her voice carried on the wind, her trace scent lingering on the foliage and had traversed.
i was never the villain, either. this carried over on the school playground, as well - i was always the valiant hero, or i wouldn't play.
thanks to buffy and xena, i could be the dashing hero without being a man. i could be a hero just the way i was, without a penis, without the inherent strength, without the broad shoulders and the bulging muscles. i didn't want breasts, but i never wanted a penis. i never had a male love interest.
when a challenge is presented, i rise to it. i am eager for it because they come so infrequently. the challenge to help with the playground, the challenge to swap a data projector in ten minutes. when charlie was wandering around a backyard and began fighting something, i didn't care what it was, i ran to him, ready for action, ready to fill in that last piece of the puzzle, the "what was he fighting," as soon as i could so that i could then siphon through plans of how best to deal with whatever he was fighting. racoon? kick it off and grab the dog to let the racoon run away. snake? that woulda been more complicated. furthermore, my visibility was so limited, i would have had to have been right on top of charlie's antagonist, and if it were truly dangerous, i would just have to bear it.
but i was not going to stand back and let something hurt my dog.
i feel like i'm standing back now, though, with someone else, someone who's also important. it's driving me crazy. in my story, the main character holds everything back, keeps everyone away, and as she does that, she taps a stick. tap. tap. tap. every tap is an urge to say something, every tap is pushing down those dangerous words. like my character, i tap. my fingers, my toes. tap tap tappa tap.
then i smile, i nod.
tap. tap. tap.