Disavowing your most taboo desires by naming them anywhere from unnecessary to evil is the reason you hear that insistent hum of dread when you’re done with work for the day and haven’t yet reached for the dissociated dopamine scroll. That anxious ecology, otherwise known as your abandoned life, makes itself known to you when your hands are empty because that’s the only space available to host your knowing—that you’re wasting your life because you’re too scared of expanding your psychological capacity to tolerate (and eventually enjoy) who you really are, how you actually want to feel and the life you truly want.
Erotic energy, euphoria, bliss, joy—these are all just as threatening and painful as sorrow, pain, and heartbreak because they’re experiences outside the normative range. It hurts to be born.