Swanning about

Well, the thing below I had to talk about turns out not to have been as interesting as I thought when written down.
I find that being differently socially abled, but nevertheless desiring, occasionally, social interaction leads to a weird way of conceiving others. There are two aspects to another person - that person themself, and the idea that you have of them. And one can think of living as going out into the world, getting a bunch of ideas like a photographer taking a bunch of photos before retiring to his darkroom to work on them. Or at least, that's how I conceive of things (and also interestingly a bunch of philosophers - see the representative theory of perception - and also closer to the theme, Proust)(I'm also reminded of David Baddiel's joke that he only has sex in order to have some material to fuel his wanks later). That is to say, I seek to reduce other people to my idea of them - in other words to come to possess them ( Proust's Swann does this), but reducing them to what they are not, a constantly changing thing to an idea which can indeed be 'viewed' from a number of perspectives but which is nevertheless unchanging.
To press home the point i've poorly and bile risingly pseudo-philosophically put, I want to narrate something that happened to me recently.
There was this girl whom I liked from afar. I remained entirely ignorant of her and was happy in this. Occasionally I would fantasize about the marvellous life we could have together (there comes that bile again). Then by a stroke of luck, I found her on the net. She had a blog, and I read it, and she seemed much cooler than I possibly could have anticipated. But this shook me somewhat. She became a real person rather than an idea.
Hmmmmm, this isn't convincing. Surely I was shook not because my idea of her proved inadequate, but very simply because by her becoming real she became unattainable, because real people tend to be a field in which i'm none too strong.
...Yes, even rewritten there is little sense to be made from all this.
Anyway, i've done more than enough navel gazing for the day. The incompleteness of peano arithmetic, and a post-prandial walk on a muggy day await.