grand moof tarkin (moof) wrote,
grand moof tarkin
moof

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woom and afterwards.

I went to woom last night; it was an evening of lying around on fluff and talking with people - the majority of whom (myself included) were under the influence of various and sundry mind-altering substances. (I'll save my pro-drug rant for later.) I'm still trying to reconcile it all, but here are the main things that stick in my head.

The general vibe was that of openness and permissivity; MDMA certainly helps out in that regard, but the crowd of about a hundred was pretty well connected to each other even without such influences. For the most part, people said and expressed what they wanted to but weren't allowed to do in normal life; it was definitely a small, safe world unto itself. I ended up candyflipping (which we jokingly referred to as a ligature; A + E => Æ) and the results seemed kinda mixed; there was less of a pure emotional openness, but a much greater intellectual/emotional integration. More about that later, though.

It was remarkably loud and chatty for the first couple of hours; people were on their feet and talking quite loudly; about 1am it looks like the drugs kicked in and people started lounging about on the floor. I got to talk to Bez for a while (but not nearly long enough); he and I have gone through some of the same sorts of issues recently, and he has a sort of innocence about him that I identify with quite a bit. He's a good mirror in quite a few ways.

After talking to Bez, I tried talking to winnie and gina for a while. I was involved with winnie for a while, and in retrospect it was a big mistake; we had very different things in mind and express things completely differently. I attempted to apologize for offending her when I got all depressed and wouldn't talk to her for a while. She gets notions in her head and then utterly refuses to budge on them at all (while I, of course, am completely unfettered and free of bias). I've more or less given up on being able to talk to her in any sort of meaningful or deep way; our styles and what we're willing to accept are just too different and I just can't deal with her reflexive snapping-off of my attempts to talk to her from a reasoned (as opposed to a purely emotional) viewpoint.

After talking to winnie, I attempted to talk to gina. She's one of the most intensely private people I know, and while I can josh around with her easily, I'm unable to go any deeper than that. While I like just funnin' around, I'm too damn serious to be content with just that; I crave deeper sorts of connections, more intense sorts of friendships - and this is exacerbated by the fact that I just don't find too many people who are able and willing to do so on the sorts of intellectual levels I desire.

So. Talking to gina. I attempted to tell her that I don't try to be stoic, to be closed off. She sort of nodded in her usual manner, with no reaction that I could tell. I think I then attempted to try and explain my chain of inferences, but I have no idea if I did or if it got expressed in anything but gibberish. All I can recall is she continued to have her neutral slightly melancholy expression and I gave up trying to say anything; I'm pretty godawful at talking about my emotional and social states with other people, and I felt like I was just annoying her with crazy drug talk.

A while later, I had the very strange sensation of feeling completely sober even though I knew I was still under the influence; my mental state became uncloudy, my emotions became clear to myself, and I wasn't hiding that much from myself. I found I felt dissatisfied with what was going on, and while the openness and sharing was great for most of the people out there, it just wasn't for me. I was distressed at being unable to connect, but with the realization that I really didn't want to change how I behave.

Upset and distressed and apart and bored and just wondering why the fuck I bothered with this sort of thing at all, I ran into JD, and he and I talked for a while. He knows what it's like to tread one's own path whether one wants to or not. We talked of many things: of shoes, and ships, and sealing-wax; of cabbages and kings. I always enjoy talking to him, and I sorely needed it.

Looking over what I've written (and hoping that it doesn't sound like overly emotional or melodramatic hippie pap), I'd say that while it was a worthwhile evening, I still perhaps expect too much. I'm never quite sure how much to give, or how to accept (if I'm even willing to do so.) Sigh, reconciling wants with what one has...

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