Doing as others told me, I was blind.
Coming when others called me, I was lost.
then I left everyone, myself as well.
then I found everyone, myself as well.
~Rumi
Being alone for days on end is quite an experience. I have small talk with the vendors on my street, quick interactions on Facebook, and one or two Skype calls a day to distract me — but really, I’m alone. I don’t have a friend or loved one on this entire continent. Everyone who cares about me is thousands of miles away.
In the absence of anyone to please or impress, I’m learning who I am, and it’s not who I thought. It’s only been a week, and some of my insights seem a little shallow and self-absorbed…
As much as I enjoy the life of a writer, I find the act of writing torturous at times. My best work is angst-driven, though.
Turns out I really like beer. And french fries! But mostly beer. I crave it in the hot afternoon
I love to walk. Just love it.
My soul needs to be fed daily, preferably twice a day. It eats nature, people, beauty, art, music, dance, new surroundings
My sex drive is ridiculous when nothing happens to squash it.
I don’t really care about being beautiful. I like to be clean and neat, but I don’t care if my nails aren’t painted or I’m not wearing makeup. And I could truly give a damn about cute dresses or jewelry. I just want my clothes to be comfortable and have pockets.
I love to dance. It doesn’t matter in the least whether I have an audience, I still just love to dance.
I’m not afraid of much, but that’s mostly because I trust my own common sense and my radar.
I care, very deeply, about people. Not just individual people, but the whole human race. The human spirit is so vulnerable, and so easily buried under the demands of society. I want everyone to wake up, take the red pill, let go of convention and conformity and find their spirits! I wish I knew how to help them.
Have you ever spent a week or more completely alone? Would you?
