Sprechen Sie DoubleThink?

However much I tend towards self-deprecation and self-loathing, I must on occasions admit that I am basically, fundamentally a Good Person. My natural instincts are, as Olga says, those of Winnie the Pooh--a stalwart friend whose first thoughts are "How can I fix that problem for someone?", even when it's not my job to fix it. And yet, whenever I have to admit that I am indeed a Good Person, the next thought that hits me is: "But really, why bother?" Because that instinct so often gets me into trouble.

Two particular events have occurred over the last couple of days. The first: I found a personal document, a diary? A journal? A set of sketched out thoughts and feelings, and drafts of letters to lovers and maybe not-yet-lovers, and although at first I had to look twice to understand any of it, or recognise the writing (which I did), I immediately knew that I shouldn't read any of it. I did, of course, read some... and with hindsight, I'm not altogether sure that I shouldn't, because I have seen a particularly human side of someone who seems otherwise not really to have one. But there came a point, a phrase that revealed too much, at which I knew that I mustn't read on. And so I returned the book, as a friend would.

Later that evening, after I had extended this hand of friendship, the dismissive hand of mere friendliness was once more waved in my direction, as I was passed by and left alone in favour of solitude.

And the next day, I finished a letter that I have been pondering for some time, addressed to my employers in defence of my friends and colleagues, and my department. It was a detailed letter that required quite some research into statistics. I read a draft to Olga, and--although she was appreciative of the principle I was trying to uphold--she pointed out that in fact the letter would have nowhere near the desired effect. Quite the contrary, she said, it would mark me out as "One of Them": I have shown myself to be able to talk their language. Because They have the power, They will ignore everything I say, all the content of my language, and see only the language itself, the instinct to defend my unit, and They will forsee that this instinct can be turned towards the defence of Their own unit.

So, I try to stand up and defend my fellow Us-es against the big Them; and They will simply turn the other cheek, and adopt me as one of Them. I try to be a friend, and I am turned into an acquaintance. I use their languages, and yet they all fail to understand me, what I am really trying to say.

All very Orwellian. Sigh.