An impersonal essay

To my muse:

1.
The backbones of their chromosomes disalign, unwind like spines of tired lovers will.
The haploid cell has 32 instead of 64; if they were not each half the recipe, the number of chromosomes would exponentially increase through successive generations, a big ancestral burden.
Prophase Anaphase Metaphase Telophase
Excepting Oedipal complexes, a child's love for a parent is based on drilling, repetition of the supply and demand, habituation establishing neural pathways thus it cannot help but comply, with the conception that its parent is divine, demi-god.
Old age, young rage
Deity offers protection and redemption. A child carries forward their legacy: looks and personality. Do I verge upon cliche? Perhaps because what is written has already been thought - every child's now taught and caught - Intuition is encoded in your DNA.

2.
A four-step guide to achieving emotional intimacy

The evolutionary benefits of this state are clear. It is the foundation of social cohesion and life that precipitates reproduction.
We shall begin with romantic attachments, our generation's obsessional ideal.
The selection process for a partner is largely a chemical affair calculated to preserve genetic variation and thus improved well-being of future generations. The human parfum is, if not individual, at least sufficiently variegated, the pheromones emitted based on genetic coding. Receptors and neurological processes are 'programmed' - no, forgive the intelligent design -speak - have developed to recognise as most attractive the most different chemical cocktail.
First, anecdotes on the subject: One wonders if the prevalent use of aftershave and eau de toilettes suppresses these instincts, containing aphrodisiacs - molecules with no imprint of the genetic character of the wearer - which confuse the brain's sensible system, a new form of witchcraft.
Research has shown that women on the pill have dulled receptors, and this results in falling shockingly out of 'love' when she ceases to be medicated,and recognises the turn-off hormones of her mate.

On the subject of emotional intimacy we must first make an assumption (because discussions are no fun without assumptions). Say that our sould is a projection, a hologram created by the established thought patterns of our brains, the systems of electrical pathways - neurological processes.
In this case, when people find themselves 'on the same wavelength', is it that these patterns and thought associations are similar. And is this mesh a result of the conditioning of their childhood; links forged between right and wrong, truth with ideology, freedom versus captivity. Or does the structure of the brain owe a larger debt to DNA, carrying forward a legacy of ancestral personality?

i. For persons to become emotionally intimate they must first betray some secrets of their structure, through honesty, intended or accidental; values and ideals (if when these things aren't 'real').

ii. I theorize the next step is - disregarding the idea of empathy - a pleasing similarity in thought pattern. All humans long to inhabit the mind of another if only for a minute, and when they encounter one who processes the same way that they do, they feel as though they have.

iii. An appropriate next step is a shared experience, preferrably one which engineers a mutual trust and feeling of togetherness. This could be the fight for women's rights (in the nineteenth century especially), hunting together to support their families, or feeling like its us and them against the world of toxic politics and apathy.

iv. By this stage the humans will have become convinced of this elusive illusion of understanding one and other, and as their grey matter establishes these habits, so they establish these habits - sharing confidences and worries and finding a form of validation in their easy reception by the other.

Within writing i recalled what intimacy is not, however hard we might have tried:

Name checked the same things on our facebook pages
Went on some dates
Made love made haste through what we knew to be appropriate stages
I'd've liked to fall in love with your handwriting, liked to fall in love with the way you sing
But you only sang with the Smiths while you were driving me home, as if in anticipation of being alone
Wrote the Valentine in pencil, pretty transitory,
much like the placement of our pen and ink story.
If we agreed on the film we watched it was all well and good, and when I didn't get your music, well who said that I should.
Awoke from shared dreams with some stifled screams, rejected raised levels of feigned intimacy.

3.
The shadow milky moonlight threw was longer leaner still than her sleek silhouette. He told her as she stretched of the papers he had read. Understood the world, had seen what it held,
Cat's best plan is to experience all he can.
Said he was a cynic and he'd tell her in a minute why this was the only conclusion for one without delusion.
She surveyed as the cosseted cat was scooped up my puffed up palms; strolled further along the fence to view through yellowed lace the Kitten.
Obliging enough to refer to him as this, still she smirked as his dried-out tongue lapped up the cream poured from a labeled jar:

Miss and the Kitten stood in the kitchen eating their curds and whey.
Miss crushed too many pills and told of all her ills to the silent cynic at her knee.
They laid down together, the two of them so clever.
He dreamt of birds, and she of their feathers on a mask she wore once in a marquee