Riolozhikaik
1. Sha – es
Logic.
It seems a fragile thing to build a society upon, an intricate system as easy to break as a spider's web. He struggles all the more for the human half of his brain. It appear that humans live in spite of logic and never in harmony with it. He does not understand the half of his brain that understands this and the half that does not understand looks askance at the other.
It is like having a stranger in his own head.
Sometimes it is like having two.
They say we are all of us strangers to ourselves and to everybody around us. Well how could anybody hope to know us when half of us never know ourselves? He watches humans in their daily struggle for identity and likes to think himself beyond it.
He is not.
He is a million miles from not beyond it.
Identity. Even when you put together all there is to know about the workings of the human brain identity is not logical. Not until it is sculpted out of years of fine work, whittling away at the core off yourself until it can be seen without any kind of tint or haze. It is not certain this sculpture can ever completely come together.
Connection – to people who do not start out as family is not logical. Connection to the world. Yes. Vulcans understand this better than any race for studying their connections with every attempt at dispassion, with all the learning and the force of mental discipline behind that understanding. Connections forged can only be crafted, fine as jewellery if they are to make any real sense.
Beauty. Only when there is a cause, an explainable need for it can beauty be brought to bear at the throne of reason, and yet beauty with no intention is a necessity of its own. This juxtaposition was laid down by Surak and only by fine and hand shivering balancing can it be brought to function.
Love. Love is where it all falls down. For there is no logic in this, no sense, no reason. It can claw at the heart until identity itself gets lost in the struggle. It can blow over the most carefully wrought construction of logical understanding and universal awareness with one smile that flashes straight from the eyes.
It should be the enemy of logic.
It is not. Not only because there is no war here, no enemies to fight, but because when all the rest falls away, when that fragile structure that you relied on so much, that you spent so long in crafting – when that blows away, that spider web on the wind – love stays. Because love does not need to be crafted, if there is a structure to work upon it can be so, but only if it is there in the beginning. Irrational. Conflicting. Challenging.
Strong.
Logic built on the foundations of love is strong indeed, a web that cannot be simply blown away.
For how else do we survive when the world stops making sense? When everything we took for granted reveals itself as transient as an illusion. When all the most intelligent philosophies of Vulcan mental training come to dust, the human half comes up with this strange and inexplicable salvation, corny, ridiculous, incontrovertible.
Love can be a raft in the shipwreck of logic.
_x_
Title = Illogical
Sha – es = Identity
In the face of a rather trying time I am retreating to the things that keep me sane; my first and dearest fandom, my otp and Vulcan philosophy. If this is crappy or doesn't make sense, eh, I'm only doing it to try and make sense of things and cheer myself up – literary meditation as it were. This will be a series of short Spock/ Vulcan – centric babblings. I have vague plans.
