human communication

hi kids. I have not posted anything for some time. I feel like this gemlog has been all doom n' gloom lately, but it's honestly because things HAVE been pretty shitty. I really don't want to continue posting this sort of thing, but I honestly can't come up with a more cheerful topic to write about.

I had forgotten just how great fiction is. honestly, do NOT underestimate the power of fiction. books, films, video games, you name it. instead of spending days at a time consuming myself on the inside, I ought to peruse more fiction. uhh, I am a bit scared of growing tolerant to it though.

tolerance is a funny thing

I mean, I have been doing fiction since I was a literal toddler, so I'll *probably* be okay. maybe.

today I played a game with exceptionally well written dialogue. this might be a rather strange assertion for me to make; how could I of all people possibly know what well written dialogue looks like? indeed, the conversations carried out in the game couldn't possibly be further from the way I (and to some extent the people around me) talk. and yet I somehow have this vague innate sense of what real human communication looks like.

that's right people! this isn't going to be a light hearted post about how great fiction is after all! instead, welcome to another episode of 'guess the mental disorder', in which ashley is going to tell you all about her inability to communicate. you son of a gun, you fell right into my trap, mwahahahahah!

uhh, right. I have never been good at human communication, even back when I still partook in it. and yet I somehow know what it's supposed to be like. it's terrifyingly beautiful to witness an expertly written conversation -- sorta like basking in the beauty of a perfect jewel you cannot possibly possess.

I had an... interesting childhood. I want to be very clear that I do not mean to claim any moral superiority in anything that transpired back then; I distinctly recall being very a self-righteous holier-than-thou kid who thought future me would look back on all the terrible injustices inflicted upon me -- I do not specifically remeber any such instances, maybe for the best. I do claim, however, that I was made to do a lot of things that I did not want to do. I played the game of human communication, and I sucked at it. not sure how much of this was me being inherently socially inept, and how much of it was due to poor learning conditions. regardless, it took me a hell of a long time to learn that the word "no" is more or less useless, and that "yes" is even worse. but eventually I learned the lesson, and gradually I mastered the most powerful superweapon of all: silence -- what I have in my head been referring to as "abject non-communication".

abject non-communication is an extraordinarily powerful tool. it's also extraordinarily painful. it feels very incapacitating to be more or less unable to tell someone else what you want to tell them, but you know it's for the best. you know that if you were to engage, you would end up in a much shittier situation than you are already in. that fucking sucks honestly. I went through my grandiose narcissitic phase of course; go live in a cabin in the woods and become zarathustra kinda thing. needless to say that is a ridiculous idea (even overlooking the obvious logistics problems it entails) and I thankfully outgrew it.

ultimately, it was never about me being unable to communicate. I *opted out* of human communication, and now I don't know how to opt back in. to be honest, I'm not even really sure I want to.