i am sensitive: i'll read malice where there is only confusion, resentment in doubt, machinations in frankness.
i could say it's paranoia. or an over-active imagination mapping stories and characters, like tracing paper over a master. however, i haven't learned to separate the transparency from the master.
and again, i find myself wondering about reality vs perception. i speak as if there is a difference, but what has suggested to me that reality is anything but perception?
i return to a lecture i read years (!) ago, given by some pillar of modern science. inspired by e.'s ability to describe newtonian physics as translate-able into other, non-earth scenarios, he suggested that science be no longer be tailored to humans but freed of the limitations of its discoverers.
(for the record: i hated it. i was repulsed by the characterizations of all those scientific papers preceding it being dispensed with summarily as human and no longer central to science's aims.)
can a person's life be given the same treatment? obviously many have imposed such dichotomies, viz. morality. you know, stemming from something not of this world, viz. god(s). and as one is lain on top of the other, like blueprints, the meta becomes constrained by the particular, becoming characterized by it.
but none of this helps me.
fat cat gorged himself with such lust that he promptly regurgitated. it took all of a minute. it reminds me of doing the same when i was eight and the chinese take out was everything i could have dreamed of.