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A man, a plan, a canal.

I had decided that I was clearly bad for Figment, as I inspired him to not always think of the things he should be doing. This resulted in a long conversation about why some people may feel admonished by the mere presence of someone of his faith.

Essentially, the LDS church has standards that I think of as perhaps even abusively inhuman to be expected to hold to, just for starters. And when you get close to someone of the faith, you see the utter tizzy they get into, often, if they should slip. And if one is the sort of person who imports pieces of one's neighbors' personality on a regular basis, one compares that level of tizzy over something so relatively minor, and realizes the amount of constant angst one would be in if one were to embrace those rules without changing anything else, and (without the faithful LDS member doing anything) feels admonished by the person's mere presence. If they can do that, if it's such a good thing that they do this, what am I doing? Even if nothing is actually wrong, it's a nagging presence in the back of one's mind.

Figment interrupts in the middle of a train of though with an almost entirely unrelated conclusion to which he has jumped about the destination of the train of thought. He is overenthusiastic. I no longer shut down entirely when he cuts me off, just say that no, that isn't it, and continue.

Figment had brilliant plans to make me attractive to Darkside, and probed at what I knew about what Darkside found attractive until I snapped and pointed out that if he asked one more question on the topic, I was probably going to start crying. I love Figment dearly, which is why I can put up with it when he has the social blindness problems.

But Figment helped me plot out a cunning plan: get Darkside to realize that he likes me! And usually, that comes with a certain epiphany, the one that involves, "Why am I doing this with this person? Oh! It is because I love them!"

Darkside was waiting for an important phone call, and expressed his regrets. Alas.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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