Making no sense can be liberating. It’s like you can say whatever you want to say without even thinking about grammar or connection but just putting all these words out there and watching them play around and try to connect without connecting. Not all thoughts make sense. I know. And it’s beautiful. It is lovely how from one single, nonsense thought to another and another that something wonderful is being woven together. It’s like picking up random pebbles by the road and then finding later on your child needs them for an assignment, to fill a jar and plant a little bamboo stick.
And I make no sense most of the time. And I do not figure out sense from other people most of the time. And it’s funny how I would remark “it doesn’t make any sense” when in fact, it’s just that I did not get it. Maybe soul mates are like that – someone who understands your nonsense because it makes sense to him. And it’s also beautiful, that you can say whatever and not be forced to make sense and then find that a person does truly understand. Sometimes a little discussion over how nonsense it is can be healthy as well. That is liberating. Maybe they got it wrong. We do not need someone to complete us, we need someone to unwind and free us from the rigidness of rules and trying to make sense, to let us speak and be, without limiting our thoughts. We all need someone who brings out the nonsense in us and make us feel okay with it.