There is a thing about the ‘relationship’ created by silent following/reblogging/liking that I’ve always been missing IRL, even before social networks existed:
I was thinking about it because I remembered this woman I studied with; we worked a bit together at the maths faculty, and we had mutual friends and met sometimes, but we never established a personal bond. But I always liked and admired her and found her interesting and special, and I think about her sometimes. And I still think it would be nice for her to know she made this impression on me, especially because she generally didn’t seem too confident.
I could now make this great jump, and write to her after ten years, and it would perhaps be a great thing (It can be, I’ve done this before), and perhaps she would answer, a bit embarrassed and flattered, and perhaps we would exchange emails and become friends, and it’s not a bad thing, but honestly it is not what my feeling is about. I am not even so good in handling many friends and I don’t want to make a life-changing intervention. I just want this positive feeling of mine that I have towards her to be of some use to her. Just to brighten her day a little bit, and that’s that. Perhaps she has no idea there are people around who silently admired her. It would be nice to know, wouldn’t it?
The same goes for complete strangers I see in the street and I think “Great beard style” or “Wow your eyelashes” or “What an interesting bumper sticker on your purse”. I could go and tell them, and I have done it in some occasions, but it’s hard for an introvert, and it also might not be totally pleasant for them, depending on what they are doing and if they enjoy being talked to by strangers. And it’s not that I necessarily want to talk to them and get to know them, I just somehow think it’s a pity they will never know there is someone (or even many people?) who think they have a beautiful voice, or a great taste in hats?!
So I really think people who fear having 2000 ‘friends’ on a social network is ruining the concept of friendship are getting it wrong.
We can still get intensely close to people, exchange deepest thoughts and feelings up to falling in love, with people we meet IRL and with people we meet online. But there is an additional way of interacting and just giving this little (or medium sized) bit of admiration to the person it’s directed at, even if we don’t want more. I enjoy that immensely, on the giving and on the receiving end.
GATISS: To be honest, I put [an explanation of Redbeard] into the first draft of [The Sign of Three], and actually explained it—the reason that Sherlock was behaving like a child was because, once upon a time, he’d fallen for that story that your bunny rabbit has gone to live on a farm somewhere. And then we thought, ‘No, let’s hold it back because we can tease it a bit.’ And we genuinely thought, ‘We can keep this running for years.’ But then actually…
MOFFAT: It’s nice to have resolved it.
GATISS: So the truth is that when he was little — and obviously Mycroft tormented him about it — is that his dog died, and he totally fell for the idea that Redbeard had gone to live in a happy valley somewhere.
Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat, Empire Online [x]
[ Skulls & Tea | Sherlock Creator Quotes Collection ]
(via skulls-and-tea)
Do you know what the even more hilariously sad thing is? John was supposed to think that Sherlock was being sent off somewhere far away, where he could run free and have tons of detecting fun without him… but he was really being sent to his death.
(via dudeufugly)
OMFG Is that why he was so fucking mad about Bluebell? oh god.. my heart.
(via asknerdymind)
Bluebell?
…Oh, hell:
SHERLOCK: Stapleton. I knew I knew your name.
STAPLETON: I doubt it.
SHERLOCK: People say there’s no such thing as coincidence. What dull lives they must lead.
(He holds up his notebook to her on which he has written a single large word: “BLUEBELL”. She stares at it in amazement as Sherlock watches her face closely.)
STAPLETON: Have you been talking to my daughter?
SHERLOCK (putting his notebook away): Why did Bluebell have to die, Doctor Stapleton?
JOHN (bewildered): The rabbit?
SHERLOCK (to Stapleton, as she stares at him blankly): Disappeared from inside a locked hutch, which was always suggestive.
JOHN: The rabbit?
SHERLOCK: Clearly an inside job. [x]
…So. This is the face of Sherlock when reminded of his most painful childhood pressure point.
That’s not heartwrenching or anything.
(via skulls-and-tea)
