My Fave Fruit Shop.

Women and spatial awareness

It's very poor. It becomes very obvious in a busy city like London. Either that or they enjoy playing chicken as they insist in charging at you in loud clunking shoes and then swerving away at the very last moment. Also they suddenly side-step out from behind another pedestrian just as you approach. It's so uncalled for. Then there's the trance they enter outside a clothes shop as they come to a sudden halt- unaware of the fact that without some deft ninja moves on my part she would be looking at paving stone rather than those potentially loud boots in the window. I want to put learner plates on all of them.

I'm done now.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/4202199.stm

Time to Move On.

Can’t cross or see the lines of hesitation
No choice, so uncomfortably strapped in
Chest tight with twitchy passivity
A responsible member of society
In a warm caf, inertia takes the initiative
So familiar that it tricks the brain
It’s dry, though it seems like rain
Unconsciously he shouts out an expletive

Gets funny looks.
Time to move on.

In the Machine

“Finding a pattern it must all fit. If it doesn’t it then it is wrong. In fact it’s scary. I can’t help it, I am addicted to patterns.” She has no opinion on this strangeness she is nodding her head to. She wants to connect with the guy, he’s safe she won’t be hurt with him. As long as she understands the rules she knows where she is. She always needs to know where she is. The embarrassment of this failure in her is too much for her to acknowledge, but the need for certainty and the structure of rules is another pattern. The chance of connection that she is struggling for could have occurred if this thing she could not admit to herself she admitted to him. Her journey it seems is far from complete. Too delicate, the flickering thought is gone, not able to stay alive enough to burn into memory to be of use. She has failed again in a way she can deal with now by simply agreeing with him “Yeah I love patterns. I can’t stand it when something is not in it’s place”. Suddenly aware that this may sound scary and controlling she says “but you know I am not a control-freak. What I mean is I like everything in its correct place so I know where everything is.” She feels stupid, he is going to think she is stupid. A weak nothing-thing to say.


Nothing of this exhausting difficulty his words have put her through is seen by him. He has no idea that until she knows the rules she will never enjoy conversation with him. She doesn’t want to talk to him she wants to talk to his machine the thing that will produce predictable outputs form a set of given inputs. He needs to explain what he said. “ I like to see consistency in things because otherwise I go on analysing why things are not consistent. Like if a person says something and then says something that contradicts or something that doesn’t fit with what they said earlier it bugs me. I need to find out why. How can that person have an identity otherwise?” He is hooked on identity, this is bad news for her, she has a worried look in her eyes that he doesn’t fail to notice. He has given up wondering why she has these sudden changes of expression and tries not to let them affect him. Her groundwork is done, she has warded him off enquiring too much. Until she knows the rules she doesn't know herself.

One looks through curiosity the other comes from fear. It’s already over, too much unspoken and unrealised, it’s going to be another arc towards the end where no one is to blame, may be some fun along the way- but trapped in the machinery all the same.