how to be detached

there’s a few prerequisites, obviously. you need to be at least a little bit funny, a little bit depressed. you need to have a history of people leaving, and you need to have a mind that is always trying to overcompensate. it helps if you’re the youngest daughter.

the first lesson is to not stop talking. seems counterintuitive, doesn’t it? but if you stop talking, people will perceive you as arrogant, which is far from our end goal. no, you have to keep talking. about what will be explained later, but for now, remember to not fall silent, at least not always.

be friendly to others. be open, and listen to what they. sprinkle a few self-deprecating jokes every now and then in the conversation. drift off sometimes, and then apologise for zoning out when you come back.

talk to people, but only when they explicitly want to talk to you. don’t seek out conversations; they’ll make your hands shake and your heart rate rise. pretend to be busy when the conversation doesn’t include you. don’t appear too affected.

when you’re talking, make sure you’re only talking about things, about events, and not your feelings. take an instrument and surgically separate your emotions from what happened, so neatly that even you have trouble understanding if you’re sad or not.

talk a lot. talk so much that nobody ever suspects that you’re never sharing anything of value. fill every gap with words. never take anything seriously. turn everything into a joke.

be game for anything and everything, as long as someone is doing it with you. sometimes it will be fun, but you have to be careful when having fun; you know how quickly it can devolve into something bad. other times you will remember it with a thick coat of embarrassment.

be the easygoing person— the child your parents never have to worry about, the friend everyone knows doesn’t have any problems, the person who never gets angry or sad. keep your tears for the bathroom mirror.

if you follow all these instructions, you can get away with never talking about your wants, fears, and triggers. you’ll live a life of ease beyond a shield of detachment, never sharing what truly matters with anyone. and if someone threatens to break through this barrier, you know what you have to do. take a step back and leave. i’m sorry, i miss you.

but most importantly, dear reader, understand that advice should come from someone who isn’t breaking apart at the seams.