A Different Person
Daily Prompt: It’s a Text, Text, Text, Text World – How do you communicate differently online than in person, if at all? How do you communicate emotion and intent in a purely written medium?
First off, let’s rephrase the first question.
“Do you communicate at all in person?”
No. No I don’t.
Well, OK, obviously that’s not strictly true. I couldn’t function in today’s rough-and-tumble world without saying a word. I communicate fine at work, but I’ve known many of those people for years. I’ve worked there for nine and a half years and I’ve never had a day off sick – that’s entirely irrelevant, but I’m very proud of the fact :-).
Put me in a social situation and… nothing. If I know the people, I generally try to ignore them, close my body language and let other people talk. Then I get upset when they ignore me back. Go figure. I’m my own worst enemy.
I sneak unseen into a room of “new” people.
If it’s a group of “new” people, I ninja my way in at the back of the room and “people watch” – I won’t say anything, other than answer questions, until I’ve “sized them up” a bit.
And small talk – what’s up with that?
“Goodness, it’s raining again.” Yes, I can see that.
“How about the game last night! Eh?” What? What game? Are they talking about football? I just don’t know.
“How are you today?” You don’t really want to know, do you? Maybe I’ll take you by surprise and bang on about all my troubles.
Text-wise, I write texts in complete sentences (usually) with proper punctuation intact. “Text-speak”? Have you ever tried actually texting “c u l8r” on a phone with auto-correct and suggestion lists? Can’t be done.
Online (e.g. in a blog) I find it easier to “speak”. I can express myself more readily. I can think before typing. I have time to find the words. I can proof-read to ensure I haven’t said anything nasty. I don’t have to actually interact with people in real-time. (Don’t get me started on using the phone :-(.)
As for communicating emotion, there’s probably more emotion in my posts than there is in real life. And that’s not a lot. Hey, I’m a bloke. I’m emotionally crippled by design. I’ll just hold it all in, thanks.
Photo credit – Katsushika Hokusai, derivative work: AMorozov, Wikimedia Commons licence
A Fluffy House
Daily Prompt: Mad Libs – Turn to your co-workers, kids, Facebook friends, family — anyone who’s accessible — and ask them to suggest an article, an adjective, and a noun. There’s your post title! Now write.
I wasn’t at work yesterday so I sent my friend three separate texts and he sent back “fluffy”, “a” and “house”. Hmm.
The Parable of A Fluffy House
Samuel took one last look in the mirror. Hair – check. Tie – correctly fastened. Shirt – immaculately pressed. Everything in order.
Samuel was a vain man. Arrogant and conceited, he was always perfectly dressed, spending upwards of an hour checking his appearance before leaving the house. A man of indeterminate age, opinions ranged from mid-thirties to early fifties.
An architect by trade, he had created a house designed to set him apart from the rest. Boasting twelve bedrooms, three bathrooms and a kitchen a chef would be proud of, it nestled against a hillside two miles outside of town.
All of this was nothing compared to the house’s crowning glory. Samuel smiled as he stroked the outside of the house. Soft, fluffy.
He had looked at other houses. The houses belonging to lesser people – people who were not him. They looked so bland. Concrete, brick, wood. This would not do. Samuel had covered the outside of his house, his masterpiece, with the softest and most luxuriant of fabrics.
People came from miles around to see his house. His house! They would take pictures (for a reasonable price, of course). They would spend time touching the fabric, running their fingers through the soft, deep fibres covering the walls (discounts available for parties over five persons).
Samuel was the envy of all. He basked in the adoration of the admiring crowds. He had reached his pinnacle!
Then the rains came. At first only a few solitary drops, then a heavy deluge. It rained day after day. The fabric covering Samuel’s house grew wetter and wetter, heavier and heavier.
The walls creaked. The timbers shook.
Three days after the rains began, Samuel’s house, his creation, the ultimate extension of his towering ego, slowly, almost gently, collapsed in upon itself under its own weight, until it was nothing more than a mound of wood and extremely expensive, extremely wet fabric.
People still came from miles around, not to admire but to laugh at Samuel’s house. At his foolishness.
And the moral of this story?
“Practicality before pride”
or
“The carpets go on the inside, dumb ass!”
I Found My Childhood Friend!
A little while ago I wrote all about my childhood friend, in a response to a Daily Prompt. The problem was, I couldn’t find the little fella!
I asked my parents about him when I went round for lunch today. They said I must have him as they don’t (uh-oh). I did get some more history, though. He was bought by my Gran for my Mum when she went into hospital to have her appendix out. I guess having your appendix out when my Mum was young must have been extremely scary, all leeches and sacrifices and stuff (sorry Mum :-)).
No, it was only 56 years ago. He was bought in Oban, on the west coast of Scotland (“in a little shop on the sea front”, my Mum tells me).
And here he is!
Cuddly Bear – my childhood friend
I popped a pen into the picture to give an idea of scale. As you can see, he’s been through a lot but now he has taken his rightful place on the bookcase with the rest of the gang. He’s meeting some of them for the first time!
I do hope they all get along.
Still Dark
Daily Prompt: Your Time to Shine – Early bird, or night owl?
As I start writing this, it’s… let me see… 7.28 am. On a Sunday. I’ll add that I’ve already been awake for 2 hours.
Can you guess whether I’m an “Early bird” or a “Night owl”? Currently it’s dark when I get up in the morning.
This is pretty much a combination of two things. I start work quite early so my alarm goes off at 05:50. Since this happens five times a week, the two days over the weekend aren’t enough to change this habit, alarm or no alarm. I also live alone, so there’s no real reason to stay in bed, if you know what I mean ;-).
In fact, on a weekend I often get up even earlier, keen to start my day off! Since I’m quite awake in the mornings this makes sense. I can get a lot done (i.e. watch a lot of TV, ahem). Later, I can have a nap. I’m in my forties. I’m allowed to randomly take naps. I’m practising for my retirement.
I generally wake up every 2-3 hours overnight anyway. Apparently, this is the way people used to sleep before there was a standard working day necessitating the standard 8 hour block of sleep. If I could get away with it I’d just nap when I felt like it over the entire day, but I don’t think my boss would like that.
So I rise early and go to bed (what other people would consider) early – lights out rarely later than 22:00. And that works for me.
Drali Two Point Oh
Daily Prompt: Clone Wars – If you could clone yourself, how would you split up your responsibilities?
Faster. Stronger. Better.
Day minus 1: The lab is prepared. The growth solutions are ready. My DNA has been extracted, sequenced and enhanced. Tomorrow we begin the cloning process. Our goal? To produce Draliman 2.0. Faster. Stronger. Better.
Day 1: My DNA has been added to the solution. The solution has been solutificated and the electrodes have been electroned. Let life be created. Ha ha, ha ha ha, ha HA HA HA!
Day 5: My creation is maturing nicely. Although still only partially formed, I look forward to the day when he emerges. He will have the intelligence to complete my daily workload and the stamina to see it through. His enhanced memory will replace my calendar and my sat-nav. He will have the confidence and self-assurance to go where no Draliman has gone before!
Day 9: My excitement grows. My clone has almost reached full maturity! I will soon be able to enjoy the better things in life, while Draliman 2.0 goes about the more mundane tasks.
Day 10: My clone is ready. May my new life begin! I release him from the solution and wrap him in a towel. Wait – he is about to speak! His first words…
“Wha… wha… what’s on the telly? X-Factor! Awesome!”
Disappointment fills my bones. Another failure. But I shall not be downhearted. I shall place him with the others and start again!
“Home of the failed clones” by DraliDoodles(TM)
(5 days pass)
Day minus 1: The lab is prepared. The growth solutions are ready…
Begone Foul Song
Daily Prompt: Earworm – What song is stuck in your head (or on permanent rotation in your CD or MP3 player) these days? Why does it speak to you?
I speak here of a song so foul, so insidious, that all who hear it are lost forever!
With that rather melodramatic start, I actually don’t have time to speak for long as I only get 45 minutes for lunch, but I couldn’t let this one pass me by.
I am, of course, referring to that “song” in the film Gremlins. It goes a little like this:
“na na na NA na na, na na na NA na na, na na na naaa na na na na na naaaa”.
Okay, it doesn’t go a lot like that. There aren’t any words so it’s hard to write down. I’d upload a video except I don’t have video-uploading capabilities, and there’s probably all sorts of copyright issues anyway. For those of you who have seen Gremlins, I think it forms part of the starting/closing titles, and is also “sung” by the Gremlins themselves during the film. The film was on over Christmas (as it often is) – I recorded it and watched it some time in January.
This song is so insidious, it has latched into my brain and won’t let go. This song ain’t for shifting. In fact, I believe it has actually burned new neural pathways into my grey matter – only an F-MRI scan will tell us for sure (maybe – neurologists please correct me on this – can we pull music directly from a person’s brain or is that still under development?).
I hear it in the shower, I hear it in bed, I hear it in the car. I have to turn up my stereo to drown in out.
“And next up on X Factor auditions, it’s draliman with his rendition of ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’!”
“Thanks.” (Clears throat.) “na na na NA na na no wait, can I start again, thanks.” (Clears throat.) “Somewheeeere over the raiiiinbow, na na na NA na na oh bugger, forget it.”
I’d actually almost gotten rid of it, and then this Daily Prompt came along and it all came flooding back. Thanks for that, Daily Prompt 🙂
Small Change
Things change. People, places, things. That’s life. No change means stagnation.
Stagnation? Bring it on. I hate change. Change is for other people. I’ll happily stagnate, thank you very much.
Small Change. Lunch is on me!
Last week brought me change in abundance. Nothing major, just small changes, but lots all at once.
These are all things which wouldn’t even be an issue for 99.9% of the population. They’d look at me as if I were mad.
I was already in a bad head space. A website we’ve been working on for months was about to go live and I was in a right state.
In my mind, I make a small error in the code. Everything goes wrong. The world ends.
(Please note – I don’t program nuclear missile systems. Therefore the world is not actually in any danger.)
Here’s the “small change” part. Along with this going on:
- The road near my house is under repair. Bits keep getting closed. I need this road to get to work, otherwise I’d need to change my route.
- The supermarket where I do my weekly shop has been refitted. The parking system has changed and everything inside has moved around.
- The petrol station where I fill up my car every fortnight has closed for a refit for up to 28 weeks. I will need to get my petrol elsewhere.
- And the icing on the cake – the barber I have been visiting since I was but a little lad is closing! Nooooooo.
Too much change in such a short time. So what happened?
- The website’s fine.
- The road works have yet to deny me access to work.
- I found everything in the supermarket without any trouble.
- I bought petrol at the garage around the corner.
- My hairdresser is moving 5 doors down and has given me her card so I can book my next appointment.
So, no need to panic, then. I knew there never really was, but my stupid brain keeps going off on one. It’s not under my control in these situations. It won’t listen to reason.
Does anyone have the number of a really good psychiatrist?
The Time of Reconciliation
Dr Franklin was walking through the town’s plaza with his official Guide, enjoying the warmth of Tranek Major’s twin suns when the bells rang.
“What’s that all about?” he asked.
“It is the Time of Reconciliation. For exactly one hour in every month, the Rule of Law is suspended for those who have filed an official Tak’reh, or grievance, against another. Some talk things through, though violence is not uncommon. Some deaths are inevitable.”
“By the Mercies, that’s madness!” exclaimed Franklin. Looking around he saw some people arguing. In the distance a couple were hitting each other.
The Guide shook his head sadly. “And still you continue to insult our ways. Did you not read the Rules of Entry upon your arrival at the spaceport?”
“I assumed it was the usual stuff,” replied Franklin. “No hats to be worn on the day of rest, don’t walk on the grass, that sort of thing, common to a dozen different worlds.”
“Indeed, one would not wish to walk on the grass. Incurring a Tak’reh from the Department of Parks is inadvisable. One finds that they have long memories, short tempers and all manner of sharpened gardening implements.”
“Mercies above!” Franklin exclaimed.
“And when I took you into my home and you complained about the room I gave you, did I not once again exhort you to read the Rules of Entry?”
Franklin’s face went ashen.”You, uh, didn’t file one of these Tak’reh things against me for that, did you?”
“Of course not! You are a visitor to our world after all, and I am above such minor indiscretions.”
Franklin’s look of relief changed to wide-eyed shock as he looked down at the knife protruding from his chest.
“However,” continued the Guide, “you insulted my wife’s cooking. I’m afraid that won’t do, Dr. Franklin. No, that won’t do at all.”
A Poem Poem
Having read this over I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. But I’m going to hit “Publish” anyway!
Just a bit of fun 🙂
There’s one thing I can’t do
And that thing’s a poem
There’s them say I’m rubbish
So I thought “I’ll show ’em”!
There’s long poems, short poems
All different sorts
Some of them quite profound
Others mean nought.
There’s some lines that rhyme
And there’s others that don’t
Some lines are couplets
And sometimes they float.
A haiku’s a poem
That comes from Japan.
It’s carefully structured
I’m quite a big fan!
Ideas in words
Structured in punctuation
Mind blowing colour.
So come on you writers
And give it a go!
You might be quite good
You just never know.
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