I sometimes think about the comfort of my little corner here on the internet. I won’t lie and say ‘often’, for you guys will catch me lying, and this is the sort of place I could tell the truth without having the need to please. Which is a contradiction, for in all performance (and writing is a performance), if you don’t have a sense of desperation about you, if you feel no need to please, why, you may as well not do it. If you want to do it, you want to do it well, and the only way you can do it well is to be bent upon forming a connection. Which you can only do honestly, for people will see right through your deception. Communication is a superpower, perhaps the most fascinating and complex phenomenon there is, and there is no way of doing it well. What we think of as well is often a manipulation, an illusion. Most of us straddle through imperfect gaps, fall into gutters, and sometimes, without much forethought, we hit upon a moment of truth, and find ourselves expressing it almost mechanically. Only after the event do we realise the significance of what we just did. For a moment, we were fearless.
Despite all that buildup, I’m not really going to be following it with some recent experience of truth-telling. I only did all that meandering (like for long time Of Opinions readers, that is something surprising), because I take absolute comfort, faith even, in the Unknown, which in this case are the readers of this blog. I do not question your attention span, your intelligence, your generosity and your comradeship with my soul by the end of reading this sentence, or this essay. I decide, a pact I only make by myself despite imagining it being signed by you, that unlike the rest of the homo sapiens I try and communicate with each day of my life, you offer me perfect attention, understanding and acceptance.
All the phenomena responsible in bringing me to life, to shaping me in this way, to making me metamorphose from girl to woman to world-weary woman and so on, got a couple of things wrong. They gave me a loud, unintentionally authoritative voice, the kind you expect to indicate your train station before you reach it, along with an expressive nervous system, active mainly through the brain and the vocal cords, but also through hands that often go into swirls in the air, and they collectively need to be used, to be exhausted, for conversely I’d explode through containing all that I had to say and couldn’t.
But then, I always insist on peace. Really. I wouldn’t call myself an introvert, because that carries a lot of baggage, but I genuinely can and sometimes do drop out of civilization. It isn’t depression, it is having an inbuilt low threshold when it comes to being able to take in the world.
For example, I hate my current life. I don’t have time for any f**king thing, and I seem to be doing every single f**king thing, and forgetting to do every other f**king thing. I’ve been taking very intensive weekend classes. I like my course, but I effectively crashed earlier this week, and got no time to recuperate because the world does not stop just because I seem to throw up everything I eat.
And all I want is some f**king peace. What would it be like to observe a silent oath, or live reclusively, monastically? Like so many of you, I don’t like my current career situation, but I can’t quit my current career situation, and I fantasize often about going away physically as far away as I can and starting anew. But, will that bring peace? Or was Siddharth right, and one way or another (okay, a bit of Blondie there for you too), we’re all going to suffer.
Wanting peace, to be rid of desire, is itself a desire. And in this case, and I’ve been there, it might even equate with unemployment. And I don’t have the resources for that. No rich kid this opinionated blogger of yours, if she has the energy to have opinions, which she doesn’t on most days.
For all my fascination and genetic alliance with homo sapiens, I just don’t seem to be privy to the code that makes them tick as social creatures. Sometimes I’m in a group discussion situation and I think, “This is great. We’ve got such a good vibe going here. There’s just something that’s bringing it down. Oh wait, it’s me.” I wish I had an invisibility cloak, so that I could participate without having to be stimulus for potential inclusion myself.
It ain’t easy. And so today, in these few moments, I take comfort in you. You good homo sapiens, and other worldly species in you’re checking in on this little blog to understand what the humans call the “internet,” I take you to be kind and generous enough to take all this in, and listen and accept. Realistically, you’re going to be distracted by at least ten notifications on your phone among other things, but for now, I choose to believe you’re here only to make me feel a little less alone in all this imposed connectivity. Thank you.