wolfwings | Well, I saw Reign of Fire today...

Interesting film. Feels around half ro three-quarters of an hour too short though, and severely rushed.

Looking at it from a bio/chemistry/physics perspective though, damn, it roxors in some places. Yeah, it's a little flimsy on the 'core principle' that the entire movie revolves around, but that's usually the one 'gimme' a movie can expect. :-)

Still, later today I'll be at Rick and Tess's cafe... Might see `Nyssa there if she shows up. Hope to talk to her, since she seems to think I'm trying to run off in a corner or something...

She's half-right. I am, but not for the reasons she states. I'm saying/typing this after being up for far too many hours, and being about to go crash for a while, so forgive a little rambling.

When this whole blow-up first happened... she compared me to Remy. And I heard roughly, from herself a bit less and from what was written she'd said in various places that she was somewhere between never wanting to have anything to do with me except perhaps as a one-night stand, and wanting me to effectively go away for a month and then see where things go from there.

I took this at as close to face value as the varied messaged would allow.

I'm determined not to lose touch with her and Steph over this, was when it happened. If I let that happen, I've let my flame snuff itself out like it always likes to do, let myself fall into a damnable funk again.

So with one side apparently telling me to, if nothing else, bug off for a month or so, and the other being the only side I could keep in touch with, well... I can see how she'd think I was trying to avoid her, or brush her off.

I didn't mean for it to feel like that, my intentions were good, or at least I hope they were, but I should have risked the bit of fire to explain my reasoning for my actions mroe throughly somewhere before doing them I guess, be it here or elsewhere.

As a quick example of you're even reading this, Allison, there was a reason I didn't comment on your recent request for sacrificial flesh. You're mildly wrong about me, hon. Yes, I love the feeling, the sensation of letting the more animalistic, feral, rampaging side of my blood flow through, in, and out of me. But I refuse to let myself become, in my soul, an animal like that. I refuse to be a series of one-night-stands for anyone... even you dear.

And ya' know something, hon? You may not realize this, but I don't think you could have physically chosen a more cutting phrase than to compare me to Remy, short of comparing me to my father, whom you've never met that I know of so for all I know you might have used that instead.

I read far too much into the written word, just as I take much of the spoken word too flatly, too emotionlessly, compared to it's true value and meaning.

And, sadly, my actions sometimes speak far louder than my words, and say things I wish they wouldn't.

And I hurt those I care about...

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In my experience, a psychologist is someone who is both crazy and brilliant, having found a way to get society to subsidize their insanity. They also have this unfortunate tendency to confuse their own neuroses with "sanity" and thereby do much unnecessary harm.

I take a functionalist perspective of sanity -- if your behaviors work . . . i.e. get you what you need, keep you mentally and physically healthy, and don't leave a trail of twisted human remains, and

[_especially_ don't trigger violent intervention by cute people wearing blue uniforms, lots of leather, and various weapons ]

. . . then you are sane enough to get by, and that's all anyone can ask for in this twisted world.

WolfWings says earlier: "I read far too much into the written word, just as I take much of the spoken word too flatly, too emotionlessly, compared to it's true value and meaning.

And, sadly, my actions sometimes speak far louder than my words, and say things I wish they wouldn't.

And I hurt those I care about..."

Words on paper (or in this case, as electronic text) carry a power of apparent "truth" . . . I used to hate checking E-mail for exactly this reason until I got over it.

All of us say and do things that hurt people sometimes. Usually not on purpose. The best any of us can do is muddle through fixing those things we can and making amends for those things we can't.

"Goddess grant me the serenity to accept those things I cannot change, the courage to change those things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference," . . . or at least to hide the bodies of those I had to kill because they pissed me off. :_)

I tend to take a functionalist view of sanity, m'self... except that what he's dealing with isn't any kind of 'insanity', it's a physical incapability to understand what other people say, do, or expect. People with AS need intensive coaching on how to interact in social situations.

(Oddly, Andrew, you have given me that kind of coaching in the past -- when I express confusion about how to handle a certain situation, you tell me the steps to deal with it. When I ask you things that are outside the norm of what you would normally answer for anyone else, you tell me the answers, but you also precede them with 'I'm only telling you this because you're a friend, and I trust you' types of comments... which teaches me that that's not something I should normally ask people.

Marcus has decided to start interacting with me as though I have AS -- which has been wonderful, and has actually helped me believe in myself again. I have had problems at school -- in addition to the emotional baggage of the spring quarter, I can't take notes effectively because I can't write at the same time I hear the lecturer speak AND effectively process what the lecturer is saying... exclusive-or situation. And this causes me issues that lead to really poor grades. Since AS is actually a physical problem, it's handled in the "students with disabilities" office, and they do SO MANY THINGS to help students with disabilities it's not even funny.)

Just think, Wolf -- you could actually go back to school.

I think... I have a minor advantage, in that I only have minor AS, and on top of that I've always had a very distinct knack for picking up on emotions. Not intentions, not social cues, but emotions, which has let me muddle through a little better than some.

And Winged? I was scheduled to be in Special Ed for my entire school life. When we moved to Kern County, they refused to let me in. Period. Outright. No, his test scores are way too high to be in special ed. Oh, and he has to take all three proficiency tests again, we won't allow those credits to transfer. He took them too early. (I took the High School state profeciency test while I was still in Jr. High because I had the chance and the school allowed me to. They said since I didn't take them in High School, they couldn't be the High School graduation-required state-level tests.)

They then refused to let me use a typewriter, computer, or anything at all except pencil and paper. On math, and reading, that was easy, they're both multiple-choice.

On the english writing test, I walked out when refused a typewriter the first time.

I was able to get all of two paragraphs done before I had to simply, outright stop the second and third times.

The fourth time, I was in Home Study. I planned for it this time, and basically said fuck you and took a massive dose of painkillers.

And 'cheated' further by doing in the Home Story room, typing the entire thing up in all of 5-10 minutes out of the hour alloted, and spending the rest of the time hand-copying it across to sheets of lined paper, the pain-killers blocking me from the agony I was causing my wrist, arm, and shoulder.

I passed, with a perfect score, even though I'd only copied less than half of what I'd written.

The same score I'd gotten the last time I'd been allowed to use a typewriter to type my essay. Four years prior.

Just don't get me started on the problems I would have without being allowed to tape-record a teacher's speeches to write notes from later, or why, despite always getting a zero for notes in Social Studies in the new school, and being horrible with dates, I never seemed to have any trouble sailing through the tests and getting a C grade, though notes was one full third of our grade in that class.

Sorry, ranting again... I just... talking about this is bringing up a lot of history I've made a point of not wearing on my shoulder like some god-forsaken chip.

Other than saying that I didn't know you were on LJ, I'll stick to simply agreeing with you re: what Shrinks are.

You're comment actually needs the least counter-comment here. :-)

Well, I saw Reign of Fire today...

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