There is a line at the intersection of any two – the line is the balancing point. Talk about the line and people listen – laugh. Fall too far to either side and you either put people to sleep or render them manic in a pool of their own self-assured correctness.
—
I’ve been struggling to separate the language of math from the English language. Along the path of exploring all the things a mind can do the two got somehow irrevocably fused. I am a mathematician, I don’t want to be. Everything is captured by it like a vine that laces around my raw awareness, categorising, correlating, and perceiving from all angles things that I’m not sure were ever meant to be measured. And I’m so disgustingly rewarded for thinking this way. I can see it clearly in the silence of laying in bed late at night. (sorry, I can’t go to work tomorrow, I’m batting my own logic).
I’m having a slumber party with my grandma. We’re eating ice cream in bed together and she hazily starts reciting Spanish poetry. For a moment I can feel it, though I can’t understand every other line. Then I see myself packaging up the words, organising and parsing. Stop doing this? She asks me to tell her something and I can only tell her about some clothing I just bought from online shopping. She doesn’t care, she’s vetted in not minding the unknowns of another person’s being. She is able to love a whole family without knowing much more than their online shopping habits. I’m not like this of course. I have a nasty habit of digging up that yard.
Well, it’s written here so I’m done.
—–
My anxious attachment style is self aware,
It knows the importance of building trains and setting up automobile regulations. Those things are trump cards against the plethora of emotional nuances. Truthfully, taxes and trains aren’t sexy but they are necessary. So it (my anxious attachment style) got really good at all the boring stuff, the way one gets good at folding laundry super fast, or gulping down the vegetables so as to have uninterrupted time left for the good stuff. I’ll outperform the SMP 500 with a hastily put together profile in a matter of minutes, I’ll fix your stupid software algorithm, I’ll put together the Ikea furniture in record time. Now that all that’s taken care of –
Lie on the floor with me.
—-
I wrote a piece a while ago equating logic to hate (I deliberately use the word “hate” instead of “fear”). I traverse through various social circles and I found that a lot of them have ways of measuring people. Like make sure they went to college if you’re going to decide whether or not…. Or reducing love to a healthy dating app routine – there are so many. I equated these generalizations to the type of generalizations I’m used to forming in the field of engineering – in the crocheting of circuit boards. Hate at a tech company – “You can max it out here”.
Hate as to Logic, measurement, analysis, self help books, boundaries, memes, reputation, podcasts, battle of the sexes/political parties, social pressure, humor at someone’s expense, fear, control …
People are not this, do not render them this.
Anthropological Magical Realism 