Internal worlds

I've posted this week's comment to another blogger's post, after drafting and proof reading the few lines at least five times, before hitting the "post" button, this time without typos, in my usual trepidation.
I become a gibbering idiot at the thought he might read it (how immature of me) and think me an illiterate, which he obviously isn't.

Such talent. The pictures and erudition prove that, along with the ability to not only observe but make connections of a global and more local nature.

(I'm finding myself in the midst of an internal trio again - the other two as yet blurred and ill defined. Foils to me or vice versa?)
I share my passion with an invisible cast of thousands. Those who don't appreciate or share said passion can be disregarded with impunity.
The real power of fantasy is the omnipresence and omnipotence - of being the omniscient narrator moving the pieces at will.
The problem for me seems to be that the characters play scenes on a screen immediately behind my forehead and won't stop unless I write down what I see and what they say.
Only then will they move on. My omnipotence is undermined by the power of the characters to act independently- apparently.
I feel I am "the puppet". When I try to manipulate them or the storyline it doesn't work.

Well, the characters are in a new setting and like me are having to attune themselves to it.
It will take me ages, I think, to lose the conditioning, to realise that time is more flexible.
The danger will be in forgetting, or not being able to let go.
That a) some semblance of discipline is necessary and b) it is no longer as rigid or unrelenting.
Managing the new environments, new routines and re-learning the strategies of communal living is the most challenging. ( Dealing with the old anxieties when the postie appears has reasserted itself,unfortunately)

At the moment I am learning to cope with living in a one-storey building with odd steps, climbing in/out of a new bath; remembering to lock toilet doors, where locks exist, etc.etc.
All the new patterns and I haven't even considered the outside!

The skies really are high and wide in Norfolk and the bands of weather are equally wide.
My brain is trying to break out of its cocoon-one part is freeing itself, alongside other parts that still plough along in seventeen year old furrows.
That's done with but I know myself well enough not to be fooled that it won't nudge me from time to time, or refuse to relinquish its vice-like grip.
After all, part of that furrow is Me. The perseverance, the strait way, the caution.
To jettison it all completely would be false and a pretence.

Now I have access to extended facilities, shared equipment, that offer more opportunities for artistic and other development.
Of course, it also means compromised privacy - I can get it if/when I need but it's not total as when one lives alone.
There is also, still, the sense of time needing to be managed quite tightly- that will take longer to loosen its grip.