I always assume that my brain is structured in a way that at least 5% of people could relate to my general thought processes, but it turns out that some of my experiences of being a human are really just a “me” thing. I’ve often told myself that I’m just like everyone else, and that all of my personality traits are explainable by a mishmash of stereotypes and systemic influences. But I guess there’s more to it than that, and I’ve been selling myself a bit short.
I can appreciate æsthetics independently of emotion.
But I need emotion to get “turned on”.
So I’m in this weird space where I can admire the looks of people (in about the same way that most people admire scenery) without wanting to fuck same (in about the same way that most people don’t want to fuck a forest … or a couch).