lost the entry to an unforseen crash.
WE got attacked…the firewall was down. Feh on the poor solimar machine who died… fortunately it was backed up just last night. a minor hassle to put software back on.
What I was saying was that I’m enjoying taking the bus lately over taxicabs. better for the environment, my billfold, and my writing time. an infinitude of people-watching is available, and the types change according to what time it is.
some observations… on any bus that I ride on with at least five passengers, at least one is bound to be a social misfit with the others. sometimes they’re loud, sometimes they’re drunk, sometimes they smell bad, sometimes they’re just disturbing to the “feng shui” of the rest of the bus. if it was a cartoon, they’d be the ones with the stange eyes darting, perhaps with spirals or a scribble over head, maybe just muttering strings of profanities or unconnected words slightly under their breath. Especially in winter, they come South to where it’s warm. They’re generally safe to be around, except for the sharp social edges grating against the others. When I get on a loaded bus, and there’s no weirdness I begin to wonder if I just missed someone, or if I’m the requesite weirdo scaring the more timid passengers. (I am a freaky giant pod-person yeti-beast, y’know.) I feel a strange drive to protect the others on the bus from folks like that, plus I get a kick out of talking to people I might not normally converse with. A lot of folks really open up to you, and will blather on about the most esoteric topics from the stereotypical government conspiracies and aliens to some really nifty family histories.
Sunday bus – Cleaned up folks going to church, happy people on the day off, more kids with a case of the sillies
Monday bus – angry people going to work, grumpies reading newspaper, sleepy folks waiting to get to a more distant destination. less traffic.
these vibes spin off into the misfits. they’re like sounding boards of the environment. there’s a creature in tibetan mythology called a tulpa. The word Tulpa is from the Tibetan language and refers to any entity that attains reality solely by the act of imagination. The entity is created entirely within the confines of ones own mind, not drawn out, written down or even verbally described. I think a lot of the time, folks that fear or are upset around such folk may make them more dangerous than if they were more at ease.. I sometimes think that if they fear the misfit person being dangerous, that the self-fulfilling prophecy helps it along… showing weakness or fear instead of friendliness or indifference perhaps kicks in the more agressive instincts. anyhow, back to what I was saying, I’ve found that being the one to talk to them with a friendly voice eases my mind, too… I’m more able to see which way the wind is blowing, so to speak. Plus, being the aforementioned pod-yeti, I can converse fairly easily… I don’t look like a cop or a pretty woman… a soothing voice and a large form seems to put those people at ease most of the time, and I’m at little to no risk of robbery or attack. I’ve been viewed as a bird of a feather, and I get rarely hit up for cash… or if they do hit me up, they don’t take it as personally as if they asked the more clean cut or well-off yuppie. (flipside, cops and people in authority assume I’m in the freaky-scary group, too.)
I know a lot of people that fall into the tulpa catagory. they shift… karma-chameleon style into the environment local to them. speech conventions, attitudes and morals, even moods seem to change to a huge degree to meet the atmosphere dujour. I’ve seen a person go from a hard-core conservative to a moderate with deep liberal leanings inside of an hour, and back again just from the people we were hanging out with… what’s stranger still, I don’t think that they noticed the self-change themselves. I know everyone shifts a little here in there, just to get by in different groups, but I’m talking about full-bore personality and appearance shift. It’s kind of disturbing… they don’t seem to have a real sense of self… repeating echoes of what’s nearby to blend in. I don’t wear many masks… or the ones I do wear are images of myself more muted, so I don’t make waves. my opinions don’t change… I just share them more openly with some folks than I do with others. when pressed, I hold the same beliefs regardless. I sometimes think that if you wear a mask long enough, you lose the face beneath. I know someone very well that has an assortment of masks… and I wonder if the person underneath them has a real face at all anymore. I used to be angry with them for being that way.. never being able to know where you really stand or what the opinion they held really was. now, I feel sort of bad for them when I think about it… are they anyone? the most identifiable aspect of what they are is being able to slip into a role really well, depending on where they are. I suspect that the person is more of a piece of the set than a real personality any more.
It’s hard for me to understand, let alone respect a person that doesn’t stand up for what they believe in. What happens if what they believe in changes greatly from moment to moment? They’re still people. What’s the opposite of a pod? Tulpa isn’t quite it… but it’s close. My personal reality shifts and sways a little, as does everyone that interacts with surroundings at all. But we all have a few anchors, here and there. I think we all have beliefs that would require a lot of work to change, if they could be changed at all… except for these unusual folks that shift so fluidly.