it's amazing what happens when you allow yourself to lose the stiff upper lip. I've spent the day terrorizing other people with tales of my mood and of how I feel about almost everything. It's a wonder friends aren't running for the bunker.
Conversations ran for hours rather than minutes. I held eye contact. I freaked people out. And a weird thing happened. I started to notice things. The rats in the park with McDonald's wrappers in their mouths. The tiny spider caught in the glass of one of our pictures at home (Jude tells me it's been there forever). People on the train.
I feel alive and raw and vulnerable and strangely manic. I feel alert and full not just of noble intentions but a real sense of urgency - a real need to get things done. It's as though a heavy gauze has been lifted and I'm shocked by just how alive and vibrant the world is. I wish I could say that this was due to medication (legal or otherwise) but it's not. It's just about opening up and learning to be more open.
So if any of you call or see me over the next few days don't be surprised if I laugh louder, ask you about a mole that you've had for years or if I ask you very personal questions whilst staring at you with real intent. I'm not having a breakdown. I'm not high. Or drunk. Or possessed. I'm just feeling very alive. And that (despite appearances) is a godo thing.
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