Story Idea: Life Understanding vs Dementia
In this scenario, the more an aging man comes to grip with humanity, civilization, and himself, basically the more he focuses internally, the more people around him consider him demented.
As his distinction between valuable and unimportant becomes clearer, the man becomes increasingly comfortable with a behavior that others around him find disturbing. In fact, he finds the anxiety they direct at him not alarming but irrelevant.
As his distinction between valuable and unimportant becomes clearer, the man becomes increasingly comfortable with a behavior that others around him find disturbing. In fact, he finds the anxiety they direct at him not alarming but irrelevant.
This story is played out as a series of monologues by the man interspersed with snippets of dialog with his family and friends.
The tone of the narrative starts disarmingly calm, belying the man’s inner struggle between his intuition of humanity and the facade he see’s in the real world. Gradually, he resolves this conflict by realizing that in his particular universe, that is, the universe of relationships and life style that he has experienced throughout his life, the future is already cast. He sees that history is an accelerating repetition of general patterns designed by human nature and that his role in this sequence and it’s affect on him, is largely predetermined.
Thus, as he comes to the conclusion that nobody and nothing is likely to change his personal trajectory by more than a few degrees, his social behavior becomes accordingly whimsical and ultimately quiet.
Coincidently, his family and friends become anxious and reactive to this new person they thought they knew. In kind hearted but stern ways, these orbiting personalities try to exert their influence by employing societies best practices for treating demented patients.
The result is an exercise in futility because they have already lost the man to himself.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow
(Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5)
