I dread being alone.
It’s a fact.
Whether I am at work, in school, in transit or at home.
Loneliness terrifies me.
Sitting alone, waiting for someone to catch your eye and spark up an interest, hopefully a conversation. I don’t get what it is about solitariness that is so very painful to not just me, but most.
I do know of people who enjoy their own world, their own life and don’t wish for or desire intrusion unnecessarily. To everyone his own, I say. Then why do we live in societies and not caves or trees in seclusion?
Humans have an innate need to talk, meet, bond, fight, love and/or mingle.
I am trying to figure out what difference does it make when we don’t. If we are in a strange place, how do we respond. Some drift towards the quietest corner of a cafe, take a book out, plug their headphones, while others strike up an uncanny conversation with the waiter, bartender, passerby, anyone or everyone. They laugh, they listen, they discover. They speak and are heard. They learn and they teach something without even trying. We speak a language that breaks through trivial things like language and culture. We are a specie unlike another. We have a power not entirely known to other beings. They too have some tendencies to gravitate towards each other, but our’s are faculties unbeknownst!
We don’t just feel for our own, but those we have no relation with, no need for, no connection with. The downtrodden, the victimized, the forgotten, the malnourished- the flora, the fauna, the living, the dead. Then is our incessant craving for touch, inexplicable? We want to affect and be affected.
Is this why I have never enjoyed the silence and always wanted to hear noise, found comfort in another? Is the music that blares in my ears a way of listening to sounds that can alter my beginnings and endings with their drowning drums and wallowing screams?
Was it my wanting to leave everything behind and begin anew that prompted the long hair, the attitude, the Calamari, the French Chez Nur?
It was something some one said at an unexpected hanging out at a desolate smelly airport lounge that made epiphani-cal (another Sarz word) sense. “You leave a city and come to another and feel liberated, don’t you?”
Spot on. I leave it all and enjoy the moment, give it the attention and pleasure it deserves.
For what does one have, except for the Here and the Now?
It is to be basked in, to be felt.
The people, the air, the reality of your self
—not what you were or what you could be, but what you are!