journal · prose

“Satellite Mind”

If only thoughts were streams, flowing out of one person and into another, without need for words. They always seem to fall so desperately short of the absolute meaning. Has left me longing for a connection of minds. Ideas swimming past, memories floating through the periphery, thoughts thoroughly fathomed, at last, by someone other than you. Secrets become obsolete, preconceived notions a thing of the past, as each imperfection and misdeed, each kind act or moment of brilliance, every single facet of another living soul, is discovered and absorbed by the other. Is it humanly possible to take that much information in? Would we be able to accept someone else that completely? Would we be far less judgmental and critical of others if sharing in such a fashion existed? Or would it bring out the worst in people, to see another in all their entirety? I have to believe, at the very least, that we would feel less utterly alone. And then wish hopelessly that this existed. Because it’s not having no one, in a world full of people, that makes me feel so apart. It’s that, inside my head, there is a fabulous, frightening, fantastic world that no one else will ever be able to enter. A world that no one else may ever want to. And I will never get to enter another, either. That is the most unfortunate thing of all.

At least we get glimpses. Thank goodness for writers.


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