actuality.log


Sunday, June the 13th, 2004

It is all beginning to make sense now – my agitation I mean.

For those who don’t know, I don’t live in the real world, usually. Not to sound like some supernatural being or weird alien creature or something, but that’s quite an accurate way of putting it. I take refuge in my ivory-towery-“world” that I build for myself, far far from the details that I assume plague yours.

(No, not real ivory. No elephants were harmed in the creation of my habitat. Animal rights people: Shoo.)

In this happy place, everything real is trivial, and doesn’t deserve thought. Timing, location, actually having to deal with new people in varied surroundings, the risk of something going wrong… stuff that’s fairly commonplace in reality, is conspicuously absent in my bubble. Basic needs are about as real as I am willing to get. The rest is all fluff.

All of that is fine and dandy when your life involves a few scripted activities whose exact specifics don’t really matter. So when I am picked up from that cosy set up, and forced to deal with the real thing occasionally, it takes some getting used to. I freak out internally and I tend snap a lot more, but for the most part, on the outside, I seem too laid back (to downright dispassionate) about the task at hand. This tends to annoy some folk.

And everyone who knows me know I need help. They just have no idea how to show it without annoying me further. Here’s a poor person who’s already struggling and will not stoop down to things like asking you for your hand (guy thing?), but expects you to be all understanding and supportive. If not, at least sshh and act like you believe he’s handling it all fine.

In summary.
– I need more help than most when it comes down to real life situations.
– You know this.
– Instead of asking me “whether I’ve already done this or that” (knowing fully well I haven’t, because I don’t know how), help me do it.
– Or STFU, it bothers me. Being constantly reminded of inadequacies or issues is not fun.

But, at the end of the day, I am more devious than you and I will get it done. Scheming takes time and I get this way when I sense there’s a high probability of failure.

Don’t mind me.

This is a printer-friendly version of the journal entry “Figured it out” from actuality.log. Visit http://emphaticallystatic.org/earlier/figured-it-out/ to read the original entry and follow any responses to it.

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