Taking into considerations the statistics of this blog it is quite marginally safe to assume that this blog is still quite private. Well naturally it would be, for the nature of most of my posts are far from personal which quite beats the purpose of blogging. Secondly, not many people enjoy talking about the things I would talk/write about.
If I were to write this post say ~ 20 minutes ago I think I’d be writing a post highly asserted by anger, and trust me that would put me in a position I was in a few months ago – one I thought was no longer a part of me. I had thought that it was gone, that it was just a phase and a conditional state of being. Apparently it is not. But at least, this time, I am not sorry I let out.
Most of my posts have been taken too seriously, as if I was trying to assert a point or lesson, and tonight I’ve figured out why. Essentially the use of this blog, and all my writings including the ones in The Closing were meant to be a platform of argument, discussion, serious and provocative thoughts, expression and socializing. With myself.
I think I’ve been lying to myself all along – the alone and lonely thing. It is one thing to be alone, and it is another to be lonely. And both are critically different things.
What I’ve been all this while was the delusion that I was alone, that I chose to be alone and I want to be alone. But that is no longer quite the case as of this moment because I’ve been lying to myself. The truth is that I’m lonely, but I am fine and am quite used and accustomed to being lonely that I mistaken this acceptance to be lonely as the capability to be alone.
I cannot talk to people at all (only old people but seriously the idea of having old friends isn’t appealing). I can converse but I just don’t find it in me anymore the effort to want to be a part of conversations.
I mean, I think I can if I wanted to but I’d have to go through a tedious mental process – something that I’ve yet to figure out.
I can’t even talk to close friends without having to think really hard about what to talk about.
There have been, truthfully as of this moment only one person whom I’ve ever been able to communicate with.
I don’t know what to say to people when I talk to them because i don’t know the capacity of my ability to converse. You know how most people talk so confidently and be themselves in masses, and in public. I admire this people, because they’re confident of what they are and what they can do.
For example, represent your life when you’re first born as a single tiny dot. As you grow, learn and experience, a thin faded circle begins to construct itself around you. The circle expands as you grow and learn. And then, through socializing and acceptance the boundaries of the circle thickens, creating a firm, thick outline. Let’s take the thickening of the line to be a growth in confidence. When this line thickens and begins to expand really slowly, you learn to be able to use whatever space you have between the dot and the boundaries to the best of your abilities.
People who have constructed firm boundaries are those who are able to be themselves freely and confidently. I respect and admire these people, for it takes a lot in the process of growth to achieve such a state. And I have a friend of such capacity in NS, aka Bob because his first name’s too hard to pronounce.
I cannot seem to find my line at all. I don’t have that confidence to openly be myself. Who talks about real maturation? Who discusses religion, spiritual growth, mental growth, life’s meaning/purpose, etc. Who the hell gives a damn about such thing? Once I spoke to a guy about this. He asked me what do I do, and I said I love to read. He says that he likes to read as well, so I tell him the things I read about as a friendly gesture. And he said, “Oh, so it’s about pulling your shit together.” Pulling your shit together, yeah, that is quite a way to describe my passion.
Not many people talk about such stuff. People hate talking about such ‘shit’. It is too painful.
So now I have a problem.
A friend mentioned that I need balance when I told her I could no longer be myself. I’m not as easy going or humorous or whatever I was when I felt less lonely before. Reason is because socializing, I think, begins with interests first. They are the opening doors that allows you to see what people are like. And I’ve had quite unfortunate luck at finding people who are interested in such stuff. Yes I am trying to seek a balance between living in my own world and communicating, trust me on that. But when I communicate, everything is integrated. The ability to speak seriously, philosophically, intellectually, to joke, to humor, to talk casually – everything is a sub component of your mind, which means they’re all one and they cease to function when one fails to operate.
That is why I blog and I read intensely. Because in the words and pages of the books I am able to seek refuge in the wisdom of the writer. I know that somewhere, someone has a mind like mine, and they are far more wiser than I am, because then I know that I am not alone and not quite lonely. They’ve gone past it. And the reward of that is the capacity for confidence and faith to put their wisdom into words and speech.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and the only impediment to growth is laziness. While my growth have essentially been guided along these lines, I think I just cracked again today. Boom.
I’ve grown a lot over the past few months, but I’ve also lost so much. But such is life.
Better now. Time to sleep.