A stranger in my mind palace!

It’s a love-hate thing. The most thriving of the sorts.

A stranger in my mind palace!
Photo by Jason Dent / Unsplash

In life, most extreme and strongest connections start in such subtle way that you have no idea on what sort of roller coaster you have stepped on.

I consider myself a simple man. So simple that you can create an algorithm and predict all my behaviors and how am I going to act. That is how I interact with the outside world.
Despite being simple, it doesn’t strips off the curiosity from me. I am passionately curious about things that piqué my interest. I write and rewrite my inner algorithms to play along. Like a clockwork sitting in the mind.
I keep tinkering with my automaton until things start to make sense and the curiosity is gone and the chapter is complete.

In this delicate mind palace, full of automatons and clockwork trickery, one external element can cause extreme disruption and I have to rebuild to gel in the external stimuli.
On every disruption, there are two possible outcomes. Either I tinker the automaton to entertain the concept or I just reset the system and shut off to the disruption because the tinkerer is not able enough yet.
It can be done with things and concepts and mathematics and adventures and experiences.

However, with people, it’s entirely different story.

You can’t just shut off to them as somewhere the tinkerer has programmed that its immoral.

99 percent of the times tinkerer can make sense of people and the automaton is mature enough to handle most troubles gracefully but then comes the unicorns, people who resonate at different frequency. People whose cesiums clock different kinds of ticks. Fluid. Abstract. Non-ticks.

It starts very smooth.
I see yet another being coming into the mind palace and he seats himself comfortably.
Tinkerer and machinery is happy and welcoming.
All the adrenaline because of the smell of a fresh human blood spices up things.
The grace and aura of the intruder is exciting and tinkerer is having real joy seeing its functions working properly. Fresh blood running through old automatons and the system kicks in.

Slowly with passage of time I see that the ticks are slightly off beat.

“It has to be a tick.”, a muffled voice.

“If it doesn’t resonate at one frequency, it should at another. This is otherworldly.”, panic state kicks in.

“Why didn’t the system shut itself?”

The disruption starts so subtly that it tricks the system into thinking that it’s ok... nothing big… No need to alter or turn off anything. It will be fine.

The tinkerer foresees corruption. Ultimate corruption.

“It has to be a tick”, squeaks coming from every part of machinery.

If it is not discrete, it can be a disaster. A slow painful disaster. Because circuit breakers won’t know and the system would burn itself down.

As much as the tinkerer wants to shut it down, the intruder starts interrupting the tinkerer. Making blasphemous amends.

Blending and distorting the beautiful, ancient, authentic, patterns…

“Curiosity will kill me.”

Even after many visits, he is still an intruder. He works with the tinkerer with such openness as both have been close friends. Tweaking here and there as he wish.

There is a strange blend of connection and distance between two.

Every day tinkerer decides to say the final goodbye and never open the door again.
Every other day he welcomes him.

Builds during downtime only to let it be destroyed again.

It’s love-hate thing. The most thriving of the sorts.

Am I getting anywhere with this?
I don’t know... who knows...