Sacking Up

I've been having the adventure of my life. Every single day has felt magical. What sort of drug am I on, eh? What is it that keeps me so happy, even when things don't seem so peachy? Good question, Mariya. I'm glad you asked. Why, certainly, Mariya!

I mean, this is going to sound totally insane and egomaniacal, but I'm kind of awesome. I'm very awesome in certain very specific ways that have almost no practical application in the "real world", but nonetheless, I am a master.

After years and years of suffering from crippling, never-leave-the-house anxiety and shame, I have suddenly learned to master my brain; to direct the flow of neurons only through the passageways of my choosing. Each time a synapse fires, it's because General Me bade it so. Every time an emotion floods my bloodstream, it's because I've admitted it. It goes without saying that I PREFER to feel good, I mean, who wouldn't? So here I am, happy as a clam. Wait, can clams experience happiness? Why not happy as a mussel? Who makes these absurd rules we all live by?

Things aren't exactly perfect. It's very difficult, for instance, to not feel at least a tinge of heartache when a person rejects me. And rejection can come in all forms. Any breach of contact - if the contact is enjoyable - feels as it should, like a tiny laceration on your soul. But then I remember that not everyone feels so freely and willingly. Not everyone can make room in their heart for everyone - even the people who don't fit within the contrived roles society writes for us. What motivates me more than anything is meaningful communication and learning. Sex dynamics often muddy that experience, and rob me of potential friendship and intellectual companionship. It's not like I'm all alone - of course not. My world is practically teeming with people I love, but it's not like it ever stops. The people never stop. There are so many many people out there, and they are all a part of each other and a part of me. It's dizzying to imagine the implications. But I don't live in this idealistic abstraction. I live around people who are afraid to tell each other how they feel. They are afraid to be alone, so they alienate one another preemptively. How are any of us supposed to get to that ultimate intimacy of which we all dream if we can't even begin to understand what we really want ourselves? How can another person complete us if we're not ready to fully examine what might be missing? So I'm on a mission to not waste a moment, but figure it out. Figure out how to perfect communication.