Why do I call myself Miss Gee? In 12th grade I was introduced to the wonderful poems of W.H Auden, one of which was called Miss Gee.It was so real... it made me cry, because I saw quite a bit of myself in her. Also my surname? Starts.With.G. It's like Fate.
I sulk, I mope and express outrage: just your average human being. I write to remind myself that everything I'm feeling comes in cycles: happy. sad, angry, lonely and back to happy again.
Thought studies were boring and only work could remedy the dullness of cooping myself up in a corner and researching my thoughts. Then I worked for a business chamber for 2 years and almost died at the absolute soulless-ness of it all... I wanted to do something revolutionary like make people kinder overnight or invent a bot that detected deceit. So I ended up doing the only thing that really was in my power - ask myself what I really wanted from life.
A tentative answer came - learn more about human behaviour and save the planet, rationally - with reason, logic and tools that my discipline (Econ) has taught me about and maybe..just maybe along the way discover if I could incentivise empathetic behaviour and penalise blame games and whatnot. In other words, make it normal and in the best interests of people not to be jerks ~hides under the table~ (this is me being dreamy you guys, this isn't a theory...just possibilities..one can always hope right? :P)
Maybe there is more to this cooping myself up in a corner and researching my thoughts thing...me thinks. I quit my work. I have approximately 4 months to realign my thoughts and get rid of the ball of negativity that my heart had become. After that I join an academic programme abroad where they say they'll let me "do my thing." That sounds promising and scary but I'll take it.
Also I'm kind of in that phase in life where I revel in being alone? My social life is laughable. But I've found amazing strangers on Twitter who make my day better, every day. To them, I owe so much and they don't even know. They make me believe in kindness...that it's not a mythical concept...yet. My support ecosystem is odd - there is the mother- a single parent and my personal warrior queen, my family members and a motley crew of people across the world and the other world (yes I count them in too because I know they're out there watching in a non-creepy way- I love you all.) who I call the floating family.. who will write something or remind me of an eerie bit of memory from the past when I least expect it-- and suddenly I'm a grateful puddle of mushy happy tears.