There's a certain interesting emotion that comes with being in these places. It's...different, than that time, a long time ago, when I was here with my close friend. Of course, there were "negative" emotions at that time, too. But I have always loved that person, will always love her, her and her friends, too. Here, the air is different. It's charged with a different sort of "negative".
It doesn't have to be this way. But it is. That is, unfortunately, not my choice to make, though. And fighting fire with fire is something that I've never really been up for. So I just try to do what I always do and let it all flow past me.
There will come a time, though, when the flow will drag me into its current, too. This time, too, I could see the signs of that starting to happen. That someday it will not be enough to simply bring my peace. And that I will become an unwilling combatant in the crossfire.
My values and autonomy will be tested, at that time. It's a bit triggering to be put into that situation, to put it lightly. But I'm not the most worried about that kind of thing. I guess it's easy for me to say now, but despite it all, I think I have at least enough forgiveness for myself to know my limits. Or at least, the metaphorical wisdom to know the difference.
I'm more worried about the sea of electricity that comes with the territory. It's...I don't know, how should I best describe it? It's not quite like being in Lower Norfair without Varia suit, that's more of a rapid and active drain on your energy. "Electricity" is probably more apt to describe it, it's at once both more sharp but also less tangible.
A little bit of static electricity is a common occurrence when it's been particularly dry, as it has been lately these past few days for whatever reason. Too much electricity is obviously a very bad thing. I've had some fancy schmancy electro pulse therapy done on me before but, well...we all saw how effective =that= was. In that sense, I think the electricity at that time was analogous to what I feel from the "sea of electricity" I see and talk about now.
I mean, I guess some people are okay with it; maybe some people even feel like that sort of thing feels kinda good. So I guess everyone is different. When I read stories about people who have fond memories of shared communal meals, dumpling making, or large banquets, or anything like that, it's a weird sort of cultural shared experience that I think I both kind of get and also kind of don't get at all.
I think I've read fiction that talks about how despite it all, meals were always a time to look forward to, filled with either exquisite treats or meals crafted with loving care and attention. You know how it is. Your favorite comfort food, that special treat that was made for you, suddenly triggering a sappy flashback scene into your childhood and connecting you with your past self in a way that only a visceral memory/sensation can.
I hear about a more pointed side of things too, about the fat-shaming or force-feeding and all of that stuff. I don't really hear as much about the contrast between the food of our childhoods and the food of our adulthoods. Maybe it's just that I had a weird experience, but I have to imagine that mine is shared, too...it's just never been something I've seen as a "thing". We don't talk about how we botched all that stuff about the "food pyramid", about vitamin C tablets, about all the feelings our body went through that we didn't know how to fix or didn't have the capacity to escape, because of course, how could we?
Taking our own agency in life is something of a formative experience, I think we do it in many varied ways. Sometimes we do really silly things because of it, sometimes some of us never get away from being teenage rebels or whatever, in our own way. I guess food was one of those ways for me, one of the last things I felt like I reclaimed for myself. There were a lot of things that I was reclaiming at the time, I guess, soooo many.
Being in the sea of electricity, always makes it so obvious why I have this deep-rooted need for solitude and solace. I mean, everyone has a need for safety and peace, and I think solitude benefits a lot of people, too, but it's really something that I hold within my core I think.
I'm sure there are stories about this sort of thing too. I...don't know if I have really come across them, though. Someone close to me wrote a story once that captured a little bit of it in its scenes, but it wasn't really about the same thing. In that story, "I" was falling through a sea of darkness and despair. Into that quiet place, where there were no longer any unfulfilled wishes. It's a story about something different, I think, of course, but I think that idea of going from turmoil to peace is rather universal. Perhaps your specific flavor of "turmoil" and "peace", what resonates most with you, is revealing about these things that are circling around the core of who you are.
In Journey you go from the torrent of winds in the white snow, to silence, and then, to the grand environments of paradise. In Sky it's different, you go from whatever that dangerous wind place is, to joining hands with everyone in the universe.
The version of "peace" in my friend's story was quiet and tranquil. It resonates with me more than the "paradise" of Journey, no doubt about it. This is why it's important for us to have different stories, to have different storytellers. But I mean, those among us who have stories to tell sometimes can't help but express them, in whatever way we can...
