I get the sense that I have unknowingly stepped on a button. For this, I apologize.

My intent has never been to exclude myself from human interaction. My belief has never been that no communication is possible between individuals. Such would be foolish and absurd! Why would I pour forth my thoughts into these typed words, if not for communication? Although it is my belief that words are not enough, they are the best tool I have available, and at times, with sufficient effort, they serve.

I do not refuse compromise, I simply bewail the fact that I must! Words, as I say, are the best I have, and they are awful. I despair of accurate communication, and I search in vain for other methods, or for better way of using words. But it is infuriating that the simple act of communication, of taking an idea stored in my mind (in whatever gooey form it is) and putting it into another's, takes more effort than the act of creating the idea in the first place.

This lack is not something I will ever "accept". I will acknowledge it, and act accordingly, but I will no more accept the dearth of accurate communication than I will accept my own stupidity. It is something to be fought, complained about, railed against, bemoaned, and otherwise opposed. It is something in the world that I wish were not so, and I will never give up trying to find a Better Way. I may fail, but the effort will be noble nonetheless.

I do not look for passion and essence from others... Or perhaps I do, but you are correct in saying that I should not. But what I intended to communicate in my previous missive was not that I sought to derive my own passions from others', but that I sought to communicate and share my own.

As is hopefully clear by now, I do not consider myself an incomplete person. As earlier mentioned, I value my own autonomy, perhaps more than I value anything else. I will never sacrifice that. Being "complete" is not what I desire... It is as though we are all small balls of wet clay, potentially complete unto ourselves, but capable of becoming a part of a larger ball. The trick is to become a large ball without sacrificing the integrity of either small ball. Perhaps a grid.

In another conversation, you likened me to a man riding a bicycle, complaining that he could not ride. I think of myself as a man on a unicycle, wishing for a moped.