Today is a good day. Two friends of mine, one the giver of names, the other one described by three little words… they have their own special day. Just as I did.
I have spent some of the day picking red currants for my mother – a gift of health. Midway through the bush, I came to realize something strange: the berries reminded me of nipples. I’m exactly not sure why I thought this, but I did. The sense, the feel, the entire experience became suddenly far more intimate – I had to pick the berries with a lot more care and tenderness. There was nothing sexual about it. It was like watching a baby sleep. Peaceful. Full of bliss. And love. Having never used that particular word and concept about a plant before, I’m not finding it odd at all. Because expressing your feelings isn’t wrong, even if there most certainly are wrong ways to express them.
I find myself content.
Next month I’m going to the capital. Meeting others not so different from myself, hopefully to talk and learn a little. Conditions. Being able to stand up for who I am. I am me.
The solitude and laziness of my mind does spring a certain point of view when it comes to looking around me at the surroundings – the dust, the lack of care, unkempt and unclean. I’m not saying that it is a picture or symbol of me, even if it does make sense – for if you have little meaning in your own existence, things around you is even less important.
The feeling of love feels like a warm hug, comfortable and smiling. I remember such a hug. It was at the end of a larp. Having played one part of a deeply romantic (and secret) relationship that ended with the option of us getting married feelings came to be. It was our characters feelings, yes, and once the larp had ended, we should put those feelings aside and return to our own lives. Sometimes that’s difficult and hard to do – even if the feelings aren’t “your own” but your character’s, you still feel them. What went on (and my point in this story) is that once the larp was ended, we turned to each other, ran at each other, embraced and stood there for a very long time, just hugging. The world could have ended and we would not have cared. It was all that mattered to us, there and then.
Having somepony love you is one thing.
Feeling loved is quite another.