Imagine: instead of sound issuing from lips, people gesticulate wildly- the teller at the bank counts money with one hand while the other flaps around like a trapped bird; the police officer shoulders his machine gun to cut his gauntlets through the air in your direction; emotions squeezed from faces sometimes hinting at the intent of an urgent punching of air.
Last night, after 81 days, after advances and retreats, I broke. In a packed theater, the sound of laughter and applause illustrated the clear separation of Chris and State. There is no isolation greater than a crowed.
We are built to conform, adapt, fit-in- lacking a vehicle to do this is intolerable. When my right frontal lobe was out of action, I experienced something similar -an inability to socially integrate on an autonomous level. At that time, reflexive behaviors and associated emotional feed-back didn't function; simple interactions, like being asked to choose between paper and plastic, filled me with overwhelming anxiety because I couldn't differentiate the contrast of the emotional import of the question. I love you. I have an orange. I killed your dog. Even reading these things on a page -when they don't apply to us- illisits a reaction; then, they filled me with a profound anxiety of not knowing what was the appropriate response. Here, it serves to illustrate how base a function fitting-in is; like breathing or swallowing, we depend on reflexive social behavior unconsiously, all the time.
Three and half hours of babel, in the form of a venerated three act play; three and half hours of laughter and applause and effusive emotional ejaculation. I tried to enjoy the stage craft, the merriment of my fellows- even the wonder of alienation- instead I felt suffocated, trapped in a box that only opens into another box...
I wonder if my dog ever feels this way?
Last night, after 81 days, after advances and retreats, I broke. In a packed theater, the sound of laughter and applause illustrated the clear separation of Chris and State. There is no isolation greater than a crowed.
We are built to conform, adapt, fit-in- lacking a vehicle to do this is intolerable. When my right frontal lobe was out of action, I experienced something similar -an inability to socially integrate on an autonomous level. At that time, reflexive behaviors and associated emotional feed-back didn't function; simple interactions, like being asked to choose between paper and plastic, filled me with overwhelming anxiety because I couldn't differentiate the contrast of the emotional import of the question. I love you. I have an orange. I killed your dog. Even reading these things on a page -when they don't apply to us- illisits a reaction; then, they filled me with a profound anxiety of not knowing what was the appropriate response. Here, it serves to illustrate how base a function fitting-in is; like breathing or swallowing, we depend on reflexive social behavior unconsiously, all the time.
Three and half hours of babel, in the form of a venerated three act play; three and half hours of laughter and applause and effusive emotional ejaculation. I tried to enjoy the stage craft, the merriment of my fellows- even the wonder of alienation- instead I felt suffocated, trapped in a box that only opens into another box...
I wonder if my dog ever feels this way?
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