Reacting against situations, persons, emotions (my own and others) is energy-draining. The years of my youth were spent energy-wasted due to this hypersensitiveness that I was blessed(cursed) with. I easily drifted into daydreams about the lives of people around me so much so that their emotions — turmoil or a state of high happy liberation or both — became mine.

Over time, after swinging the high of temporary high and the low of temporary low, I eased into the phase in between that was still, reflective and non-reactionary.

So when people clucked about, obsessed about maintaning the state of happiness I became aware that if they were not implying the bliss of inner peace that transcended moods — drunken drops and spikes of superficial emotional weather — they were talking about the adrenaline-pumping exhaltation induced by certain activities.

If it was the latter that they were really interested in, they were hooked on biology, drugged-out on the most physiological reaction towards individually-defined external little toe-tickling genies.

So that every other day became a quest for this or that adventure, forever looking for that drive that came, for instance, as the roller-coaster dropped at the highest point and they were alive for that momentary second.

The exhilaration was wonderful as long as it lasted, and once down on the ground, that deep malaise returned. Old genies evaporated into the empty cracked lamp.

shanaz@RS | 1:28 AM | Labels: my reverie spills