sometimes people have a heart-melting way of expressing their intrinsic ability to love. fear forgotten, they suddenly open up and speak out, not attempting to gain anything, just to let me know that they care. and i'm somehow pierced, through and through, by something that sweeps me away from all the shit that just doesn't matter. reminders of goodness, such moments are. someone reminded me again today. something. some things. many things remind me.
but here i hit confusion, because of what i've been thinking about, on 'otherness'.
and another thing keeping me occupied is being human. yesterday, in the bus, i had a conversation with myself on why is it so difficult for me to participate in many of the things that are generally referred to as 'human'. i can and do love the world as it is, but i don't love the way the world is. i can't contribute to something that feels so wrong to me. i feel i'm at the very heart of the world, but at the same time feel so very distant from its surface, where all the politics and conflicts and passions and other common expressions of humanity take place. i find myself dwindling away somehow, becoming less, yet simultaneously expanding... in physical terms, i feel like i was losing skin, losing the very thing that keeps me together. in writing, it sounds frightening. but i don't feel frightened. just sad, sometimes, because sometimes i feel terribly alone in this.
sometimes i wonder if somewhere along the line i took a very wrong turn and am now heading towards some evil end. these are thoughts entertained on lonely nights. people look for companionship in life, but from what i've seen, most of them are worried about not finding anybody that they could love. me, i don't worry about that: i already love. no, when i worry, i worry about there not being anybody who'd love me. often people require the strangest things in partners. i find myself lacking in most things that they want. and i can't force myself to become something that just feels wrong, even if it's generally thought of as 'human'. these 'human' ways of being make no sense to me, i can't force myself to behave in ways that seem absurd and unnecessary, even harmful. yet when i don't, i hear it's 'false' and 'inhuman'.
fuck but it makes me so sad and mad, too. this, this is what it feels like to be distanced from the surface. it's a hollow world. there are so many people on the surface, and so very few moving around in depth. and though my arms are a million miles long, theirs can barely reach to touch the person standing next to them.
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