I’ve just read the most amazing blog. Before that I was gifted the third key. The writings are like incense. The writers are like an electric current running through my head, almost as if for a single moment I am sharing the experience of which they write. Since I learned to read at the age of five, I have always immersed myself in the writings, become a part of the story, experienced what the writer put on paper. Being an empath is both glorious and a curse. Too many times I am mistake for being sympathetic or pitying, when I am simply experiencing part of what another feels. I feel both the agonies and the ecstasies, the joys and the despair. Having been emotionally closed for so many years, the sudden onslaught of feeling has brought me the very brink of the abyss. Some days it is just too much, but I cannot stop. Feeling at all is new, feeling so much is unbelievable. I am finding my way in this medium, slowly to be sure, but finding it. You who write, and write well, I admire you. You who write the very rawness of your soul, I love you.