May have mentioned this before. What unsettles me more than anything else in relationships with humans, THE COLD FISH.
The cold fish has power to break me like no other creature. I suspect it’s because I don’t understand the cold fish’s approach, their detachment. That’s it: Detachment. Shout at me, criticize me, give me a hard time, tell me what you really think of me but don’t give me the cold shoulder, wrap yourself in silence.
The few times in my life I have been shown that cold shoulder, that silence, have crept me out. Made me feel a despair foreign to me. Years down the line I should have learnt; I haven’t. I cannot even begin to describe to you how helpless (and humiliated) I feel in the face of those shrugging you (and others) off. Them walking away with not so much as a backward glance. It literally defies all I myself stand for and believe in.
To give the cold fish the benefit of the doubt: Those who apply that approach are either on a power trip or are scared of life. What the latter do, first and foremost, is protect THEMSELVES. A bit like snails in their shells. Except, of course, that shells are easily crushed. Unless those shells are so calcified that little can break the barrier. Beware your bare foot being cut when, inadvertently, you step on sharp edges along the beach.
If you aren’t interested in boats – don’t go to THE BOAT SHOW.
If you are interested in people watching – go anywhere, even THE BOAT SHOW. You will not be disappointed.
My relationship with water is not as amicable as that I have with human beings. I trust humans. Water? Nah. It’s too deep, dark, full of fish, mysterious. On top of which you may drown. Though of all methods other than keeling over by natural causes I’d prefer to drown rather than, say, burn. From all I gather, drowning is serene, peaceful. BURNING? Why do you suppose hell is fire not water? Bet you never thought of that one.
Yes, so some people (particularly of a particular age and demographic) go on a cruise. Leaving aside the horror of being cooped up on what is essentially a hotel on unstable grounds how do these people sleep? Remember, noise is magnified in the depth and silence of the night. All that water lapping round the keel. Lovely. Who needs nightmares when you can just buy yourself a cruise?
I am convinced that people who go on cruises have a need to lull themselves in the sense of security money gives. Let those on the run drown somewhere off some god forsaken coast. What do they expect without a staff ratio of three to one per passenger? For heaven’s sake, keep perspective.
Fire and water, the other elements are earth and air. On the spur of the moment I’d say the last two are benign. Though, obviously, you wouldn’t say that if you sat on Mount Vesuvius when it has one of its turns, or being suffocated by a pillow, strangled or whatever – take your pick.
Where there is fluff a navel is rarely far away.
And so it came to pass that there is one gazer whose plight I should feel sorry for. I don’t.
In fact that woman’s blog brings out my bile. Not an unfriendly bile. Just bile. Amusing. If she weren’t so much trouble I’d write her column for her. Yes, that predictable. I rarely talk out loud when there is no one around to hear me. But she has me talking. Out loud. Laugh. Shake my head. Not conducive to my keyboard’s cleanliness (see my recent lament). Yes, really. That special she is. So special I want to shake the shit out of her. It would make her happier. Guaranteed. And everyone else. Still, some people are constipated and no shaking will help. Only a throat curdling dose of castor oil. Those were the days (age three). When castor oil shifted. I am not squeamish. Yet I remember that spoonful. Ever since I am suspicious of anything colourless and viscous. Which reminds me, apropos of nothing, of LSF (longest standing friend): He claims to be allergic to asparagus. Pull the other one.
Was told this morning that we can’t live our lives around a fishmonger’s bounty. I disagree.