No longer feeling inadequate. Etcetera.

This weekend was it. Transformation. Sudden contentment, relieving sighs from the depths of the soul. I needed this. More than anything.

It began with a plan to journey into nature, escaping and floating away in the crisp mountain breeze. Heavy duty neurotic preparation on our parts, until we found out we were a day early for the adventure. Knock, knock. Let us in. We're early? So what.

We use our extra day together to mingle amongst new friends. Sipping butterscotch lattes, enveloping myself in artsies. Catching my eye first was a beautiful creature, with her red dreadlocks and tiny frame. She strummed songs on her violin as if it were a ukulele and sang me Neutral Milk Hotel's "Oh, Comely." Her smile glowed with authenticity. I watched in awe as Jessica doodled the most life-like purple hand I'd ever seen in her sketchbook in five minutes. What's this? Oh, we found some plaid curtain-rod covers. Let's bind Paris's hands together so she looks like a bondage slave, and make a leash for pretty girls to drag her around with. Great idea. Strangers begin joining our raucous circle, drawn to our giggling and inviting energy, and the constant need to make everything a production. I notice something I love about every single person in the group; the way they speak, the way they sing, their laugh, their free spirit, their warm aura. On our way out, I shake my bondage leash at Ms. Red Dreads, and tell her with my best puppy-dog eyes, "You can take me wherever you want to go, and I promise I'll oblige." She grabs the leash and yanks me closer. "Oh, God. Don't tease me!" She gives me a naughty smile, and pulls me in for a hug. I'm not done making everything a production, so I give her one last wink before turning to leave. A hot tingle ripples through me, finally satisfied with my level of openness.

We head over to another friend's house, where a young man with a dachshund cooked us delectable Asian cuisine. As friends gathered, unique characters each brought something different that made me smile. A shy girl brought a delicious coffee tiramisu cake and revealed herself to be a professional baker. Two boys brought blues guitars and sat cross-legged playing duets, another brought his perfect Hank Hill voice and impersonations of long monologues. Without even being intoxicated, I found myself connecting to each and every soul, at least slightly.

We awoke to Jessica making us French Toast and free-trade coffee, as friends began gathering to decide where to camp. Seven stoners trying to make a decision proved difficult. "So, uh...how about we set up tents in Tamara's backyard? It's big and wood-like." There were no objections, so off we went. Fuck the mountains. We just needed outdoors and good company. Fast forward four hours, two tents, and several bowls later, and I'm unwrapping the chocolate buttercup in front of me, prepared to swallow a month's worth of bliss, a psilocybin dream. We soon all find ourselves sprawled out on the front porch together, smoking cigarettes and staring at the sky, the trees, the grass. We were silent, but it wasn't awkward. It was perfect. Soon enough the clouds above me were rolling like waves, shifting into fractals and back into soft watercolors. The silence was interrupted occasionally by Tamara's contagious come-up laughter, and for the first time in years, I found myself laughing so hard that tears rolled down my face. "Paris! Stop creeping into my thoughts! You keep making me laugh!" I felt the laughter reverberate deep inside me; authentic, beautiful, true laughter, exploding consistently from within me and spreading to the open souls nearby. This continued for an hour.

The only sober person there, Chrissy, in all her artsy bundle of creative joy and energy, hand-painted plastic whistles and kaleidoscopes for each of us to wear around our necks. She walked around with her camera and digital tape recorder she kept for her writing. "Paris, what are your thoughts? On the universe?" Laughter erupted from me again. "I think I get what you're saying, love. Giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle!" She kept repeating the word over and over, shaking her luminous purple skirt, and I laughed harder each time. Rolling on the floor, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands, gasping for breath, truly content. "Paris, you are a crazy creature. And I love it." We continued to bask in the warmth of nature, and I felt each breeze slide over my skin with orgasmic gentleness. On my back, looking through my kaleidoscope at the trees, I sighed. This wasn't a normal sigh. This sigh let an erotically warm, comforting vibration spread from my chest all the way down to my ankles. I had never felt so alive, right where I was, doing nothing but breathing and existing with other souls on the same level as me. I sighed again, and again, each one feeling better than the last. I didn't even notice Chrissy standing over me, focusing on aiming her camera at me in her artistic angles, capturing the essence of my being. "You look so ponderous and happy, Paris. Look at yourself! You're wonderful!" The laughter erupts again.

Occasionally the zen was interrupted by a sweet text message, the types of texts that you can't help but grin at. People began to point it out. "Look at you being all giddy! Are you in smit, Paris? I can tell." Jessica said, giving me a wry, but understanding smile.
Eventually we all gathered to create our psychedelic marker creations, putting our minds, our souls, on the paper. Skills need not matter. Just feeling, just emotion. Enraptured with hot pink, I let my hand flow as it will, without even thinking. A boy with long black sideburns and a boyish face stops and turns to study my drawing. "Hello," he said. "We haven't officially met. I'm Fish. We met yesterday, but that wasn't really meeting. Now, I really see you. It's different now. It's an absolute pleasure." I beam. 'Likewise! Add something to my drawing!' He laughs. "I like the flow of yours, but okay, I will. By the way, I want to see you put your anger on the page now. Let it out." He hands me an orange Sharpie, smiling.
In the midst of coloring a collaboration piece with four others, my phone rings; that familiar ringtone. Her ringtone. My stomach spews butterflies, flapping their neurotic wings. I stand up, knees shaking, and answer quietly.
A sugary, tender voice greets me at the other end. "Hello, baby!" An exhilarating warmth flowed from my face, to my chest, to my legs. "I know you're out having fun right now, and your phone's about to die, so I needed to call you and tell you this, instead of text you." What followed was ten minutes of the most touching, genuine, personal gesture I've ever heard. I could feel the phone shaking in my hand, my heart stomping against my sternum. I stammered. "I...uh...oh, I love you. I don't even know what to say! You're making me stu-stut--hahaha--stutter. Stutter. Oh, god, I sound retarded right now!" I felt my cheeks flush, embarrassed at my trouble to find the right words. Her next giggle brought the butterflies back, the grin still plastered to my face. Reassuringly, in her petite little voice, she added, "Ohhhh. You are the cutest person to ever exist in this world. I can't even believe it sometimes." I melt into a puddle on the floor. Trying to shower her in my appreciation, I finish with, "You just made my day. No, you made my life. My life." The giggle, again. My knees nearly buckle. We say our goodbyes, and I hang onto the phone for a few extra moments, contemplating if what just happened really happened.
I pace around for a minute and gather my thoughts, my mind-expanding trip having skyrocketed into euphoric infinity. I re-enter the group of friends.
"Why do YOU look so excited? Hey! You're shaking! What's up?"
'Don't even worry about it.' Maniacal laughter continues.

A few more hours of art continues, passing each other messages and inside jokes. 'CURTAINS.' I'd scrawl on the notebook and slide over to Tamara. 'FUCK MY CURTAINS.' with a heart next to it. 'ETCETERA.' Pass it back. 'DOT. DOT. DOT.' Pass it to Fish. 'ELLIPSES. I LOVE YOU.' Pass it back. Giggle, giggle. So much meaning in simple, single words. Meaningful, magical. A bit more star-gazing, smoking, laughing, and soul-connections continue until the night dwindles into early morning. We sit around the table, in silence again, pontificating the journey each of minds had just went on.
The silence is interrupted. "You were the most pleasant surprise of the evening, I have to say."
'Me? Why's that?'
"Because when we met yesterday, you seemed a little shy and maybe reclusive. But all it took was a little bit of time, and BAM! Fuckin' out of nowhere. Your personality just shines, even in a large group of people."
'That's how I like to come. Fuckin' out of nowhere. And really, I appreciate that. You're awesome, Fish. Thank you!'
"Keep it up, please."
'Don't worry, I will. Thank you, really and truly.'
"You're welcome. Really and truly."
I smile and blush, looking down at my hands, feeling truly happy with myself, my new found openness, love for all people, and ability to relate and spread joy to others. This is bliss. This is really happening.

I daze off into peaceful slumber, dreaming of laying in a field of flowers, approached by my ethereal beauty, dressed in white. She leads me to a ladder, leading directly up in to the sky. "After you," she says. I climb until I dissolve into the blueness of a sky, fading into the continuum with a sigh of relief, of love.
This is really happening.