It just is

Whatever THIS is is making me think (and write) incessantly.

In between getting some work done + watching back episodes of the TV shows that I watch + trying to review for next Thursday's exams + getting ready for a night out with the family, I was stumped.

It might be the hormones. Or the high I got from getting good grades and getting stuff done even after I'm not supposed to work. Or the buzz after five bottles of beer. Or the high from waiting for about an hour, standing among college kids making out and making comments and not knowing songs from UDD's first album other than Oo. Or not being able to get out the instructor's Indian accent out of my head (been listening to him for eight hours, three days straight).

But this is what it is.

Have you ever met someone who you connect with on some level that only the two of you get on in? It's kind of weird knowing that you can get on that level with someone and not be friends but not exactly lovers or be sexually attracted to one another. The thing with this connection is that you never pretend to be anything other than yourselves.

And that's the easy part. You share equal passion for some things, equal loathing for some things, and share an appreciation for the differences and still share them with each other anyway. Comfortable is as comfortable as it gets, and awkward is something that is worked out today or some other time.

Somehow, you are able to sense when one is uncomfortable, or when one is not okay, or when one is content and happy. Everything seems chaotic one moment - completely at a crossroads and devoid of understanding. And then everything seems to just place itself nicely after a while of talking or not talking.

That's the thing, I guess. We never are curiously suspicious of questioning. We just are.