darkwall
Well-known member
One interesting part of the Cinderella story I found is that she is panicked by the thought that at midnight, all her gowns will be turned to rags. This is the sort of state I am perpetually in when talking to people: I am only interesting when I am aware of other people, and when this energy starts to slip I've got to be off, so that people constantly ask me, "are you going somewhere?"
Evidence: today, I'm talking to someone and at first I'm telling my little stories, listening the proper amount, using my observational style with her where I paint myself as someone who notices/thinks about original things. But then ...
You know when you want to ask someone, what am I meant to reply to that? They're probably waffling about what their boyfriend thinks of BMW drivers: the point is that the conversation is irrelevant to you. We like to think that when we talk to people, we are expressing ourselves freely; but really we are continually aware of their reactions and interest, so that everything you say is woven into their reactions like a tapestry and could not exist on its own.
If we were properly expressing ourselves, we would propel them into a disorientating world of small objects with personal meaning: the tiny things that make up the bulk of our thoughts - I wish she'd stop interrupting me, what was that telephone number I was trying to remember earlier, this seat is comfortable, more grey skies.
There is of course a fine line between expressing yourself in a way that manipulates interest from them, and one that they are unable to connect with themselves. We have to be continually aware of the other person, which requires a skill and patience we are not aware of until we see toddlers hilariously hijacking each others' conversations. As on A.L.L., I am unable to properly define this line, or maintain this awareness, which is why I continually lapse into these strange monologues of mine that leave people looking at me like I have just turned purple.
Evidence: today, I'm talking to someone and at first I'm telling my little stories, listening the proper amount, using my observational style with her where I paint myself as someone who notices/thinks about original things. But then ...
You know when you want to ask someone, what am I meant to reply to that? They're probably waffling about what their boyfriend thinks of BMW drivers: the point is that the conversation is irrelevant to you. We like to think that when we talk to people, we are expressing ourselves freely; but really we are continually aware of their reactions and interest, so that everything you say is woven into their reactions like a tapestry and could not exist on its own.
If we were properly expressing ourselves, we would propel them into a disorientating world of small objects with personal meaning: the tiny things that make up the bulk of our thoughts - I wish she'd stop interrupting me, what was that telephone number I was trying to remember earlier, this seat is comfortable, more grey skies.
There is of course a fine line between expressing yourself in a way that manipulates interest from them, and one that they are unable to connect with themselves. We have to be continually aware of the other person, which requires a skill and patience we are not aware of until we see toddlers hilariously hijacking each others' conversations. As on A.L.L., I am unable to properly define this line, or maintain this awareness, which is why I continually lapse into these strange monologues of mine that leave people looking at me like I have just turned purple.
