Thursday, June 28, 2012

Insomnia

Been too busy (or lazy?) to post, but I've been scribbling lines on receipts and napkins and ticket stumps -- basically anything I can get my hands on. So, I thought I should share at least one little something I've written:




I daren't close my eyes 
I'd fall asleep. 
I'm afraid you’d be there 
Waiting for me
At the edge of a cliff 
A secluded cove 
Or at my doorstep 
With a plastic rose. 
I'm afraid to face you 
I'm afraid to forget you. 
But more than anything
I am insanely afraid 
When I close my eyes 
You won't be there at all.






Picture source

Friday, June 8, 2012

FF - Blifaloo.com and How to Detect a Lie


I've mentioned before what I terrible liar I am.  Well, it turns out that sometimes I'm a terrible truth-teller as well.  I seem to have a...skill, if you will: I can make the truth sound like a lie.  Especially in the awkward situation that has someone who knows me pretty well -- my mother, for instance -- asking me a question about something, and me screwing up the truthful reply simply because I'm nervous that they will take it for a lie.  Which makes it sound like a lie.  


A standard example would be someone asking me "Are you okay?" when I'm simply tired and quiet.  If I answer with the normal "I'm fine", I become awkwardly aware that a) I sound tired, which makes me sound depressed and thereby not fine, and b) people who aren't okay would probably say the same thing anyway.

And so, I force extra enthusiasm into my reply, so that I don't have to deal with the inevitable "No, really, are you sure you're okay?"  Because, of course, forced enthusiasm is exactly what someone who isn't in the best of spirits would incorporate into their reply.  And so, the situation usually spirals out of control, with me desperately trying to tell the truth and the second person thinking that whatever I'm saying is a load of donkey bollocks.

I know -- after watching way too many crime serials -- that there are signs people look out for to detect a lie.  Curious, I looked them up, not to become a better liar (or is that a lie?) but to become a more convincing speaker of the truth.

Google churned up blifaloo.com when I searched "how to detect a lie".  There's an interesting and detailed guide to body language and eye movement that I enjoyed reading.  It also has puzzles, and a bunch of articles on a wide range of topics.  Definitely worth checking out if you need to kill some time.




Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Why We Love Fiction, Even Though Withdrawal Lies at the End

Sherlock Holmes. Tyrion Lannister. Harvey Specter. Sheldon Cooper.  Each of these is a fictional character who has recently triggered in me a bout of sulkiness simply because I've watched all of the aired episodes of the tv shows they're from.  An embarrassingly large chunk of the past couple of weeks has gone into what I like to call "fiction withdrawal" because of these non-people.  Every time I complete an epic piece of fiction, I look something like this:



This includes tv serials, novels, and sometimes movies if they're good enough to suck me in completely for two hours.  (Note: this is not unlike what happens when I discover that I've run out of coffee.)

So, why is it that we enjoy fiction so much?  I know that a lot of people (including yours truly) like the feel of 'escaping' into a story and imagining themselves in the position of a character because they feel they can relate to the characters, but I wondered if enjoying fiction goes deeper than that.  It turns out that it just might.

One theory is that if the telling of stories was not beneficial to evolution, the enjoyment of fiction would have been siphoned off a long time ago.  Stories are simulators that train our brains to be flexible and creative, traits that are both essential for progress and development.  This is a theory I can readily believe, especially for that of written fiction.  Reading, as I've posted before, requires more brain power than that of watching tv.

Another theory is that when we indulge in fiction, we are not really 'escaping' from life but to life.  Stories promise solutions to the conflicts that lie at the heart of them. The process of moving from conflict to resolution is like an echo of the processes in our own lives.  Experiencing situations that are out of our own realms of possibilities through fictional characters is enjoyable, yes.  But the theory claims that we sharpen our awareness of life because of the journey of emotions good fiction takes us on as well.  And, apparently, this sharpening of awareness gives us the ability to make logical decisions.  I suppose I can understand where the theory comes from in some sense, but I also think that obtaining a distorted view of the world is a risk if people cannot distinguish between fact and fiction.  I  have to read more about this to understand it.

Prof. Lisa Zunshine is a name that kept popping up when I looked up the research undertaken in this direction.  Her website has a number of interesting materials on the links between cognitive science and fiction.  If you're intrigued, definitely check it out.  A couple of other articles that you might like are: Why Do We Enjoy Fiction Anyway? and Next Best Thing in English: Knowing They Know That You Know.

Understanding why we enjoy fiction in various forms would provide us with insight into how our brains work.  I'd even be interested in a study that addresses why some people are more inclined to certain genres than others.  

But no matter what the reasons are, I know that as of right now, I wish I could curl up into a ball and weep for the loss of the fictional 'friends' I made over the past two weeks, or else travel to the future when new episodes are aired.

Which characters and stories have you recently encountered that set you spiraling down the dark hole of withdrawal?

Sunday, June 3, 2012

SS - Returning to the Same Ocean



I miss you.  I miss you so hard. So hard, my insides ache.  I wrap my arms around me and squeeze, to keep the ache inside -- the only proof I have left you were real. 




Picture of Karachi, Pakistan by Ali Khurshid on Flickr