I am adrenaline. I am a feeler in the extremes. It’s both a blessing and a curse. I love to feel, but have to be careful for it not to overcome my sanity, because sometimes it acts as a drug.

But that will never dull my insatiable hunger for the thrill, the thrill of every sensation, to both reveal and endure. My body and mind naturally romanticizes every conversation my senses have with the world, weaving me into an experience of my surroundings.
To feel the rush in especially the little moments. To taste a mouth-watering glistening meal, and appreciate its textures and feel it swallow down my throat, as the flavors mix together to create a symphonic harmony in my mouth, savoring each bite for the godsend it has bestowed upon my taste buds. Or to smell the lingering scent of rain in the air, after it has fallen, inciting my body with a humid freshness- bringing nostalgia of what it must’ve smelled like when it poured. To feel the texture of that crack in the concrete, and how its grooves run against my fingers, some sharp,  some smooth and the graininess speaking to my touch.

To feel the rush in its entirety, and let it burst from the confines of my body, a chance to be free of its static everyday state. And the first thing that comes to mind is to dance. To dance freely, being totally carefree of self-consciousness, to fully enjoy the swaying of every part of my body to the beat. To feel the music, to be in synch with the music, using my body to sing. To run as hard as i can, and feel my heart beat so hard as if it’s going to fall out of my chest. And of course roller coasters, free falls, horror houses and movies, anything that can make me scream. Screaming at the top of my lungs, giving me those opportunities to cathartically release bottled up cacophonies.

I get a thrill from allowing myself to be open and receptive to the unknown, to understand through experience. To experience anything I can, when the opportunity presents itself, because every opportunity is a question waiting to be explored. Skydiving? Yes, please. Any opportunity to travel, whether it be to Paris, or to Chernobyl? Of course! Shaving my head? Hair grows back. To try out that sex move I read about, but it sounds way too impossible to attempt? Let’s prove me wrong. That experimental coffee flavor  that you know will give you the runs, but seems too colorful to resist? I’ll have it in a Tall. Seeing that strange, grotesque picture you wish you could unseen online, but then being grateful because now you have seen it, for the shock? Yes. Snake soup? Hell yes. Because if it is considered the norm for people eat it in cultures different from my own, why not try to understand?

Love? Always. ❤