7.2.07

sometimes, i push away those who actually care about me. in doing so, i isolate myself. so then being alone is a choice i have made, and an action caused by my will, rather than something uncontrollable. then, in isolation, i go through a series of self-imposed spiritual quests of my own design. walks out into the fields at hours of the night during which it is somewhat dangerous. walks further than i have gone before, into remote areas filled with new kinds of energy. bike rides at night. long hours in my room alone, thinking and listening to music. hours lying in fields staring at the sky and pondering, or just trying not to think at all. staying awake for multiple days at a time until i cannot stay awake anymore. sleeping during the day and waking before the sun sets. taking sleeping pills to sleep when i cannot, but should. spontaneous adventures via bus to places i haven't been, or to places i want to revisit. time spent wandering around parts of cities that are foreign to me.

i shun that which is familiar and reliable. i hate that which i am unable to make familiar. and i seek out that which is unfamiliar in all forms, because i never know what i will find there, either tangibly or in my thought processes as response or reaction to the things that i find.

i seek experiences that frighten me, and experiences that push me, and experiences that are challenging in that endurance or mental strength or emotional strength or self-sufficiency are the only ways out. i sketch out adventures for myself, and then i take on the adventures. i do so alone, and i love the alone-ness of it, yet i wish there was a way to share something as beautiful as alone-ness with another person.

the state of being alone and doing things alone is something magical, and it is also one of the only things that can never be shared entirely with another. perhaps i am drawn to others who are similarly alone, because caring for such a type of person is the closest thing to sharing isolationism with someone else.

perhaps i am drawn to those i will never be close to, because in staying far from someone i am sharing with them some kind of loneliness that is too beautiful to be kept entirely to oneself but too comfortable to be abandoned.

perhaps it is at the point where i realize i am not so alone, and that the other person is not so alone, when i lose interest in the person in question (whomever they may be at the time), simply because i can no longer share with them that which is such an intrinsic and inherent part of my life; that which is the foundation of so much of what i do and feel: isolation.

it would be a pity if i could care the most only for those who are also usually alone, just because i need to share my alone-ness in this removed way.