Have you ever noticed how even the worst people in the world seek connection?
Even if it is selfish.
Even if it is hollow.
It's still important to them.
The world's most elite often connect not for kinship—
But for strategy.
Tactical advantage.
Networking.
And you know how some people seem to constantly want to pull you down?
I don't think people want to see you at your worst because they're petty.
I think it's because it can get really lonely down there.
They just want someone.
Anyone.
Even if it means dragging someone into the abyss of darkness they're trapped in.
It’s ironic, really—
Even the most selfish connections still tether us to the shared human need to be seen.
If you tickle yourself, you won't actually burst into fits of laughter and shrieks.
Because your brain will be expecting it.
You're prepared.
But if somebody else tickles you...
It's a whole different story.
I believe our feelings are actually interdependent.
That our ability to feel relies on our ability to connect.
Our willingness to connect.
Our willingness to be tickled.
And some people may consider not being able to feel a gift.
Maybe it is.
But it also deprives you of the ability to experience happiness.
Love.
It leaves you empty.
Hollow.
Wishing something would fill out the space.
Some people may consider not being able to be tickled a gift.
Maybe it is.
But it also deprives you of the wholesomeness of the moment.
Of the simple joy of such a childish act.
It feels like being unwanted.
When nobody tickles you.
Even if it is out of self-protection.
You watch all the others around you have fun, tickle-fighting.
And wonder why you won't join in.
But the second you try to, the chains of the past pull you back.
Reminding you of the feeling of surrender.
The terrifying vulnerability of it.
Chains that reign in the mind rather than the body.
If to be loved is to be known, it isn't necessary for someone who was always surrounded by love to be loved.
Because that's all it ever was.
They were just surrounded.
How can one feel loved by those who don't even know them?
It's a facade.
They love somebody who is not you, but a costume.
Which is why people who've always had love given to them on silver spoons can lick it off knives, too.
Because there was still a lack in the abundance.
Those spoons were never meant for them.
Being served love on silver spoons isn't the only thing that matters—
What also matters is whether they were the right ones.
But how will you receive the right spoons, when you won't even show your true self?
It's not like you will stop feeling anything, even if you aren't being tickled.
You will always feel.
But you'll just feel empty.
A yawning chasm.
Begging to be closed.
But never being able to.
Because our feelings are the very hinges that orchestrate the function of the chasm's jaw.
And now it yawns and yawns.
Collecting fungus. Diseases.
Echoes of feelings you wish would come back.
But the thing is—
You won’t feel the way you once did.
Because while life may be a circle in many ways —
Time isn’t.
You don’t get to relive the exact same moment twice.
Even if the feeling feels familiar,
It’s still new.
Still different.
You will never go back to the places you saw in the past.
It is a thought as comforting as it is wistful.
So, as you grow,
So will your ability to feel.
You will feel differently.
But you will always feel.
You feel pain because pain is an indicator that all is not well.
When your skin is cut, it naturally scabs over to heal.
Healing is not something you can stop.
It is something as natural as the rise of the sun and the lapping of the waves.
So, instead of fighting it—
Embrace it.
Like swimming in the ocean instead of drowning in it.
Yes, there will come a time when you die.
So what's the point?
The point is not your destination, but the journey.
Because the destination will always be death.
You want the pain to stop, right?
Death is not the answer.
The pain will only intensify.
Because you'll realize everything you took for granted.
You'll be fighting the natural cycles of life.
All you have to do—
To get those hinges working again—
Is let yourself be tickled.
Stop gaping at the sight of others having what you do not.
Stop yawning due to sleepless nights of feeling empty.
And start joining in.
Joining in on the vibrance of joy, even in life's bleakest moments.
Start painting your life's masterpiece.
Even if there are 'imperfections' already scattered across it.
Those imperfections, those accidental strokes of the wrong color?
Those are what make it perfect.
Authentic.
You.
And if you keep trying—
Maybe, just maybe, one day, you'll laugh again.
Not because you tickled yourself.
But because you let someone else.
And that gaping chasm will close.
It won't yawn due to restless nights.
It will quiver with joy.
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