Passion as an aphrodisiac

Having the beauty of what I believe to be a beautifully neurospicy brain, often means my mind is often a tangle of half-finished thoughts, darting between my own fascinations such as psychology, music, existentialism, relationships, sexuality and whatever’s happening in the room or my life.

It's often not obvious to the observer, as I am a grounded and present individual, but my inner world is detailed and vast.

I love diving into my favourite topics, unpacking how the minds of other people work or why a certain chord progression feels like a hug from the universe.

But what really anchors me is when someone I’m with starts talking about what sets their heart on fire. When the person I am connecting with opens up about something they love, like the way they’ve spent years restoring an old guitar or how they lose themselves in philosophy late at night. I feel this quiet yet district pull. It’s grounding, like their voice becomes a steady thread I can hold onto, and I just listen, fully there, watching them come alive.

There’s a deep kind of beauty in that, when someone lets their guard down and their face softens because they’re talking about what matters most to them. It’s not flashy or performative; it’s real, and that’s what draws me in.

My spicy brain might have me shifting in my seat occasionally or tracing patterns on the table, but my attention’s locked in, drinking in every detail. I’ll ask questions, not to fill space, but because I want to understand what it means to them, why it’s theirs.

Time becomes distant and it becomes about that fleeting, honest exchange where they’re not just a stranger anymore. Seeing someone glow like that, sharing a piece of their world, feels like a gift and for a moment we’re both a little less alone in ours.

Evie xox