I spent a whole week in close quarters with another human being and it was harrowing for a recluse like myself.
At the end of it, a few things came to mind that offered clarity on many things. Like how I attribute the wrong names and words to the things that I confront in the mental arena.
Busy working: this means busy unravelling the ball of yarn that is actually my confusion with life at the moment. It is not an exercise in vain, except when it is (which is the case, most of the time).
Clearing my desk of its workload: this means I've been in a state of confusion for so long that I cannot tell where the problem begins and where the solution ends...but my ego maintains that I have the solution and only the slow passage of time will reveal this.
I'm angry: I am not really angry. I'm just disappointed in my inability to act like an adult and throw a tantrum over the undisguised fact. Very mature, I can (not) assure you.
I'm under time pressure: This is usually true. The lie/misnomer is assuming that I didn't have enough time in the first place. I did. I falsely assumed that time dilation would come to my rescue. Einstein would have been proud of my attempts at engaging time dilation in thought experiments, but would have been sorely disappointed in my execution.
I'm not sorry: this is personal. I hardly say that because I was raised to be a gentleman. It is not rude, but it is usually abused by rustic intellectual fiends disguised as fellow decent human beings. I'm a neurotic chap. I can claim the sins of my ancestors. I can also take a bullet for a complete stranger. I shouldn't have to be that way. It is unfair to all involved.
