being in the company of others no longer holds the same appeal as solitude. while there is an individual here and there that i feel like is an extension of the world in my mind, others, i weary of.
what is there lacking in the presence of others that adds discomfort to my sense of being? am i then under the pressure of presenting myself as they perceive me? am i too tainted to show that i am not well, that there are matters deep inside which are heavy and unsettling? do i not related to those i am surrounded by anymore? have i alienated myself and allowed them to become strangers?
i’m not sure.
what i am certain of is that i find immense peace is being with no one by myself, a notebook, a book, maybe my computer/phone, and a pen…and some music please. these days i enjoy not uttering a word out loud all day. i enjoy puttering around at my own pace. i am thrilled that i have picked up a pen and have started expressing the state of my mind in patters and not in words. and i am happy to come back here and try to construct thoughts into sentences. there are things i want to write, you see, and i need to find the right context and frame to present them in.
and for all this, the silence and the safety of being alone is precious.
here, i am alone but i do not feel lonely. loneliness is more apt at grabbing me when surrounded by others where i feel a tinge of inadequacy. the constant competition that prevails when in groups holds no interest. social niceties are more than i can bear. and the meaningless meanderings of day to day tasks that are said to be important, i have not the heart to take part in these activities.
i find myself in contrast and in solitude i simply want to ponder and create. i want to be. to be without judgments, without preconceived notions, without expectations. i am most happy when left to paper and pen, words and books, music and beats. this is how my soul will heal, how i’ll find direction, where maybe i’ll find me. the little girl i used to be, i want to do her proud, because for doing it for her, i’ll be doing it for myself. and that, somehow, matters.