Drunk and alive
I, too, hate the small talk that turns into self-validation, especially if it is done without humor, and it can be exhausting to listen to if only from the disappointment it brings. But how about these times when you have a conversation with someone and you are just on, both of you, to the point where you feel elevated from the shared understanding, from the flow of articulate thoughts and words coming at you faster than you thought you could ever process? In conversations like this, my thoughts become clearer than they’ve been in days, I sense a direct connection not only with the person in front of me (or persons, but that is rarer), but also with her ideas and mental images, and I feel like I am almost physically transported into her perspective and she into mine. It is the greatest buzz, one I can sense all the way through my fingertips, and I feel dizzy when I get up after such a talk, drunk on words and images. « Could this feeling be what they meant when they talked about being alive? », I tell myself, as I stumble home… I’m not sure, but the promise of this buzz makes the rest of our emptier exchanges a bit easier to bear.
In response to a post made by Rachel about the drama of human relationships.
