Opening to the strange
I have sometimes
wondered about the kind of comfort we find with strangers such that intimate
details are shared in ways that we would never consider with those we know.
We engage and
unburden freely maybe unconsciously that there will never be another encounter
so that the familiar does not visit us again and with it bring some
embarrassment. Just as the tongue might be loosened by drink in the midst of
friends, the elixir of strange meetings gives an inebriating fillip to
unbridled liberties.
The anonymous becomes
a comfortable channel for things closed off, a place where there is an expression
for which we do not want to be known to others. It is like our secret selves
still needs a place to be not so secret, yet not public with a face or some
recognition.
Natural inhibitions of
nature
Maybe in the embrace
of the strange, we find a new range for our passions and our fears, even hopes
and desires get to travel in paths we never dared to let them get out to
experience. We have a tendency to compartmentalise, manage the facets of who we
are to different levels of acquaintance, we are being completely who we are and
yet never the complete picture to those who think they know everything about
us.
It is probably
healthy to be apparently extroverted to the unfamiliar whilst being introverted
to the too familiar, whether vice versa is a good thing, I am not too sure. We
are chameleons taking on strange and familiar colours depending on the
environment; that is in truth not quite unnatural, is it?
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Nature is raw
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