**Intellectual Passion**

Mia was sitting by herself in her tiny apartment, staring at her tablet's screen. She'd learned long ago to ignore the bustling activity of the city outside. She liked her home's peaceful seclusion, her daily routine's steady beat, and the reassuring glow of her virtual environment. It was regulated, secure, and most importantly, she never had to experience the sting of being alone.

But her most recent acquisition promised to be a game-changer. She turned to face the sleek, tiny device—no larger than a pocket watch—that she was holding in her palm. The next great thing in personal technology was being heralded as the Emotion Transference Gadget, or ETG. You may experience the whole range of human emotions for a small cost by borrowing them straight from other users who have registered to share theirs. At the push of a button, one could experience fear, love, despair, or joy.

Mia felt the thin, metallic band go over her wrist, and her fingers quivered a little. When she touched a button on the side, a gentle blue light began to pulse. Her arm began to gently vibrate, and then a screen asked her to choose the emotion she wanted to experience. After a brief period of hesitation, she tapped "Love."

The impact was profound and happened right away. She felt a flood of warm affection sweep over her, bringing with it a deep sense of connection and contentment. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling. She could hear their hushed words of adoration, feel their heartbeat against her chest, and picture herself in someone else's arms. It was euphoric.

Mia felt fully alive for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

Weeks passed, and Mia's dependence on the ETG deepened. She explored the wide range of emotions available for hours every day. Of course, love was her favorite emotion, but she also experimented with happiness, hope, and even melancholy to experience other emotions. The feelings were consistently intense and genuine, beyond any she had ever experienced personally.

She stopped caring about the outer world. She was able to work from home because she was a freelance writer, and she was fast to come up with reasons to avoid going out. When she could feel the ideal, well controlled emotions in the privacy of her own house, why would she want to venture out into the chaotic, unpredictable world of people?

One evening, after a particularly intensive session, she was lying on her couch when she had an epiphany. When was the last time she experienced something without the ETG's help? She attempted to remember, but nothing came to mind. She has undoubtedly experienced happiness, sadness, or excitement at some point.

She chose to put her curiosity to the test. Turning off the ETG, she sat quietly, waiting for a natural emotion to surface. The minutes passed, but nothing appeared. She experienced a sense of emptiness. numb. It seemed as though the steady stream of borrowed emotions had drowned out her own.

Panic started to creep in. Desperate for the familiar rush of affection, she punched the ETG button once more, but nothing occurred. The gadget was still unresponsive and dark. She attempted to press it once more, more firmly this time, but nothing changed. A steady thump resonated in the silence as her heart hammered in her chest.

She trembled and murmured, "Please." "Avoid doing this."

Frantically, reaching for her iPad, she searched for answers. A brief internet search indicated that users were encouraged to take breaks to avoid emotional fatigue and that the ETG occasionally needed updates or maintenance. Burnout on an emotional level? Such a thing had never occurred to her. How could she exhaust herself doing something as lovely as love?

The next few days were a haze of panic and hopelessness. Mia felt like she was adrift in a sea of emptiness without the ETG. She made an effort to pick up her previous pastimes, such as cooking, writing, and reading, but nothing could make her feel as happy as before. She made an effort to connect with people, but her interactions came out as forced and lifeless. She lost her ability to relate to people and experience a true sense of connection.

She downloaded a dating app in a desperate attempt to connect with someone, thinking that perhaps, just possibly, she would discover true love. However, every date seemed like a duty, a show she had to put on. When it was suitable, she would smile and nod while sitting across from her date, but on the inside, she felt nothing. There was an incredible lack of spark, chemistry, or interest.

One evening, after yet another failed date, she collapsed onto the couch with tears streaming down her face. Despite her hopes that the ETG would fill the void in her heart and make her life better, all it had accomplished was make her numb to the outside world.

She had an epiphany as she lay there, gazing up at the ceiling. She had lost sight of what it meant to be human because she had been preoccupied with pursuing idealized, manufactured feelings. To have happiness and suffering, love and loss, all by herself. Real emotions were messy, erratic, and often unpleasant, but that's what gave life meaning.

Mia got up and moved to her desk with a sorrowful heart. She took up the ETG and held it briefly in her hand before putting it in a drawer. She was aware that she could no longer rely on it. She would have to go through life and confront her feelings head-on if she wanted to feel alive.

She got up early the following morning and took a stroll outside. The sun was warm on her skin, and the air was crisp. She inhaled deeply, allowing the refreshing air to fill her lungs. Though it wasn't much, it was a beginning. She became aware of the little things that she had long overlooked while she strolled, including the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, the sound of distant traffic, and kids laughing at a park. There was a slight stirring in her chest, a hint of what could have been hope.

Mia smiled for the first time in a long time—a true, sincere smile. It wasn't much, but it was hers, and that was plenty for the time being.