sherlock and me

Am always late with catching up on what’s good on TV and Movies coz ma not an avid watcher. Most bore me to death anyway, and I’d rather just read on the laptop with what time I get, plus the husband’s downtime after a long day at work is watching TV, so I generally do not have much of a say or care to have a say on the remote at home.

Since last week being tied down to bed has made me look at various options to keep the Vicodin soaked brain entertained when not under the influence. Watched a couple of foreign movies – Intouchables (French) and Headhunters (Norwegian) and loved them both. Then figured I’ll move into TV-HBO series and Sherlock popped up. So here I am after completing series 1 and I thought that was all there was and the new season was starting and was overjoyed on being caught up, when someone says “season 3” on twitter.

Damn.

So am on season 2, and well, Benedict Cumberbatch is awesome as quixotic Sherlock , but Martin Freeman’s the adorable Dr. Watson and I love him more.

Besides the sheer ingenuity of cracking the mysteries using deductive reasoning skills, what made me go “Yesss” was that there was someone out there, a character albeit, but someone out there who resonated with me. No, wait, I’ll explain.

Things jump at me. Behaviors, words, tones, actions. Of people mostly. They jump at me and form this tiny little puzzle in my head. Small pieces of jigsaw. I don’t search for them, *they* come to me. They fall into place as I go about doing my thing, and one day, taxa, the picture forms – about them, on them, around them. It happens a lot. I most certainly do not go around being the sleuth, and invariably the picture I form based on all these little clues is about 9 times out of 10 fairly accurate.

I dont gloat, I don’t proclaim, but when something doesn’t seem square and happy with how one behaves with me (around me) it triggers these flashes and they all just sit around idly, like a clump, and one day, they suddenly start shuffling and quickly arrange themselves into a pattern. Then they stare back at me and go
“hello, can u see?”

..and I can’t help but see.

People think am weird. So Ive stopped speaking my mind out. It hurts to have all these things inside your head and not let them out. I do on occasion. Usually the not so good images are the ones that form. Speak that out loud and I seem like an evil character, who’s out to get people (people who are otherwise nice and they aren’t all bad, just that they are more gray than white) and am paranoid. I assume, am told. I need to lay off and take folks are face value. I am told again and again. No one’s out to get you.

Of course No one is out to get me.

They can try and they will fall flat on their nose, am smart – I will get hurt, but I survive and that is a quality of success and winner and am nothing short of one considering how far and how interesting my life’s been.

What the point is, it isn’t me, it is them or whoever it is that jumps at me in my head. The focus is on the person.

For the most part I watch. I tend not to react quick, and I give the person fair chance. Twice, thrice and so many more based on how close they are, how vested I am in the relationship, and things along those lines, and then I snap. Then there is no turning back.

It’s sad.

It’s actually frightening to be me. It’s very lonely being me. Coz I see things that many don’t. The not-good stuff, the gut instinct, the 6th sense, the things that jar.

Watching sherlock in all his quixotic and strange ways and how he frustrated he gets when folks don’t “get” what he sees naturally, the exasperated slowing down to explain things out. Yeah, am 10% of that. No, am not a genius, am just weird and I wish I wasn’t.