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I wonder why sometimes people find it arduous to fathom that I can be entirely merry without having to achieve an anchor in the flesh. Although, I pamper myself to sexual encounters, certainly not continually, but when my mind merits such a compulsion, I engineer my innermost contentment and emotional involvements that are almost completely concerned to epistolary exchanges, painting and whatever else that might fancy me as opposed to sexual intimacy, since sex has never provided me, barring the transitory dousing of my carnal fire, anything more.

Clearly, when I severed ties with my girlfriend of four years, I felt nothing. Life marched ahead with renewed vigour. My friends found it rather unusual that I was devoid of ache and sorrow. One of them sat me down one evening and elucidated that I was perhaps feeling exactly what anyone else under similar circumstances would feel, only, that my approach to grieving at the death of my relationship was to murder any palpable connotations I had about it. If my telling her that a thing when lost was lost, and that there was no use crying over it, evoked in her disdain for me, further my endeavour to make her recognise that my principal concern was not with human relationships, or of wanting to rear a family but with the search of deeper coherence and sense, elicited a reaction in her so severe that she accused me of being utterly inhuman. Between all this, I cannot but forget how she stormed out in a huff at not being able to make me adhere to her average sense of what she thought I ought to be feeling when what I was feeling was very much normal to me.

Current wisdom assumes that man is a social being who needs the companionship and affection of other human beings from cradle to grave. It is widely believed that interpersonal relationships of an intimate kind are the chief, if not the only, source of human happiness. And yet, right from the beginning, I have been thought of as peculiar, odd, to be precise, who did not share the pains and pleasures of the average person. I marvelled whether this difference in me implied abnormality? However, when I contemplate the common lot of mortality, I must acknowledge that I have drawn a high prize in the lottery of life since I am endowed with a cheerful temper, a moderate sensibility and a natural disposition to activity than repose. As far as some mischievous appetites and habits go, they sure seem to have been corrected by philosophy or time. Therefore, at the end of the day, I think that not all creative people are notably disturbed, like not all solitary people are unhappy.

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1 comment:

  1. ah that was a whole lot... you sure felt the need to write on that matter. I agree to quite a few observations here, and have myself run the risk of being branded an insensitive woman ... "insensitive woman" you know, the stress being on woman, one so utterly unacceptable by the genteel folks of the world around us!