During the twilight of sleep and waking, the line between brilliance and stupidity can be foregone.
I went to bed with the half-intention to sleep and half-intention to read even if the sun hasn’t fully peeked out over the clouds yet. As I decided what to do, I closed my eyes and like a dam that broke, images started to flood my head. Forty-five minutes after, here I am again, downstairs, with the PC back on. I could no longer stand the whirring and clanging in my head so I just had to write them down…
A story of a woman with a unique affliction…
She has been diagnosed to have extremely rapid emotional growth. “If there are geniuses in terms of IQ, you are that of EQ. However, as high intelligence is normally taken as a gift, your case is both a gift and a curse.
At the age of thirty, your emotional age is matching that of a 90 year-old. Your understanding of the world, of people, and of experiences is so rapid that you have seemingly lived the lifetimes of many people, not just your own, at present time. Mortal as you are, in your mind’s perception, you have the capacity to live up to possibly three lifetimes to the power of how many people you have been in close contact with… and that is the curse. You get tired of understanding and knowing how things work and how they turn out, and then you possibly keep renewing your view on things – understanding them deeper and deeper – that you get tired of the whole cycle.
Taken as a gift and communicated properly, you can help a lot of people by making them see what you see – possibly ending long, drawn-out strifes between warring factions. Taken as a curse, you will most possibly succumb to the feeling of helplessness and defeat about being trapped in a never-ending cycle and lose all hope in life as early as now. There is no cure for it. We cannot stop oneself from understanding and feeling the emotions that come with it.”
…the Beautiful Mind of Benjamin Button? No, something much more. The newest addition to the Justice League? Nah, she’s just your ordinary human. Empath 2.0 (coz this time, the ability is measurable and longer just occult)? Maybe. Anyway, the whole story – which I still have to dream about – revolves around this ability.
You would know how much a person matters to you depending on how much importance you give their opinion of you. This is one of the major driving forces within families. A son desperately seeking approval of his father to the point of subconsciously mimicking his jokes and acquiring the same habits. A mother frantically trying to find the right dress for her daughter, making sure it fits her taste yet decent enough for the party.
Opinion is such a powerful thing. We are what people around us think we are. In a world were we are to singularly exist, can we still be called compassionate, apathetic, overbearing? (and, if you should think yourself as such, would it make any difference?)
When finding a life partner, look for someone who values your opinion – to the point of altering oneself, if need be, to get your approval – and vice versa.
Everybody needs affirmation, however little it may be. It is healthy for both the giver and the receiver. Be generous with praise when fitting. On the other hand, be open and acceptive of praise.
On pointing out flaws and mistakes, aim to be corrective, not belittling. Every action toward the other person, however little, contributes to your overall view of them which they see and feel.
I am a stage actress… a multi-awarded orator… a master of ceremonies… but I do not know how to speak my mind during normal conversations.
I’m comfortable being in a one-on-one conversation where I’m on the receiving end of a story or an idea. Doing the storytelling or explaining, on the other hand, is my waterloo. In the instances that I was able to do so, my emotions must have been running really high to be able to propel me to speak. Don’t even get me started about how I am when there are three or more people.
This weakness became so magnified when I realized that my body manifests all symptoms of stress only experienced during an awkward moments whenever I try to explain something to my sister – the one person who I should feel most comfortable speaking with. My diaphragm cramps up and pushes up against my lungs, I inadvertently cover up the words by laughing while talking, my breathing becomes quick and shallow, I stretch or fidget or fix something while talking, I inadvertently lessen the volume on the words which I think would raise a brow or two, and basically my whole explanation or story ends with a feeble “heh heh…” then I act like I’m interested in doing some other thing than telling the story.
Simple example: me telling her about this loser guy who keeps clicking ‘Like’ on every ad on Facebook. All I should have said is “I know this guy who likes to be seen by everyone viewing FB that’s why he keeps clicking ‘Like’ on each ad.” Period. But what I managed to get out of me was “he heh… I know this guy… heh… he’s such a loser… ha-hah… keeps clicking ‘Like’ on each ad… haha-hah…. heh……” *change topic* *hum to self*
I’m the loser.
P.S.: I hope I don’t wake up later in the afternoon realizing how stupid all these things I said were. For now, good night… er, day.