The reason why I don’t put my real name on Facebook and never post a single image of myself on Instagram ( heck, I don’t even have an account) is because I am scared for the crazies to find me. I burned the bridges a long time ago and removed any means of transportation that will lead to me and I’m sure none of them is a good swimmer enough to cover the distance. So, as long as I’m invisible I am safe.
But I must admit I am a bonafide stalker. I stalk some people online. Part out of curiosity, part out of __ I forgot the word. I’m curious what become of them, how’s their lives now and who they are with. Most of the times I was amazed with the answers to my inquiries. Their choices surprised me. Never expected most of them. It only shows that I never really know them. Or people do really evolved. Maybe they are not the people they once were or they are not the people I thought they were.
Anyway, I am always careful not to leave footprints. Based on my experience the moment they learned that I still exist they will swoop like vultures on a carcass. I don’t want that to happen. Again. I remember the time I planned to attend an overseas class reunion and let them know, oh, boy… the lies came pouring in.
“You didn’t change since grade school. Still the beauty.” Someone said.
What??? They didn’t know I exist back then.
Okay, that maybe a lie since I was a class president multiple times during our academic years. I starred in school productions, captained a debate team, did quiz bee, wrote in the school paper and did things they never dreamed of doing. But beauty I was not. I was bullied because I was an outcast and in their provincial minds, ugly. I was not a girly-girl (according to my father I was) and never care about my appearance so, they made my life a living hell.
Another thing is: people have long memories. They will remember things you don’t recall anymore. Or things you rather not remember. They are good at that. And those who formed a misplaced admiration and attachment to you still harbor some hope to rekindle whatever they think you had with them that time without regards to whoever is involved. And one thing I don’t do is to deliberately hurt someone or break a union and divide a family. Of all the unconventional things I had done in the past, I can proudly say that I didn’t break up any marriage or any relationship. Like I said I don’t do such things.
So, I’m content with spying on them and once in a while wishing I was there, missing a certain atmosphere and imagining how it will be if I show myself in person. All hell will break loose for sure. I say this not because of self-importance but out of personal experience. I tend to form an all consuming kind of relationships with certain people that usually end up in__ chaos? misery? disaster? name it. They are often so intense that forgetting seems out of the question. On my part because I possessed Eidetic memory and on their part__ I have no idea. It just happened that way.
The funny thing is: Those who matters to me I don’t stalk. I am scared to see that life goes on without me. That I am not a part of their existence and will never be. That they don’t even think about me at all. That they are happy I am not there. So, I stay away. Even though it hurts. I can handle it. What I can’t handle is rejection. The knowledge that I don’t matter at all.
But it is what it is and I long accepted the fact that life could be lonely sometimes and alone we were born, alone we shall die.
If you decide to just go with the flow, you’ll end up where the flow goes, which is usually downhill, often leading to a big pile of sludge and a life of unhappiness. You’ll end up doing what everyone else is doing.
And I thought if you go with a flow you will have a peaceful life, good neighbors and lots of friends. Everyone would like you and you will be happy. Take it from me who always swim against the current- not because I am dying to be different for the sake of being different (I would never do that) it seems the only way for me to float- it’s never easy. You know… road less taken/traveled whatever.
One Lauren Alaina sings:
You won’t make yourself a name if you follow the rules
History gets made when you’re acting a fool
So don’t hold it back and just run it
Show what you got and just own it
No, they can’t tear you apart
Don’t follow anyone
March to the rhythm of a different drum
Why do we analyze, break out, and criticize the crazy ones?
Easier said than done you might say (Me, I would never claim that for the simplest of reason: I don’t know any other way) not following the herd not having a herd mentality it means you are on your own and I believe not so many aspire to be alone, isolated and outcast even for being who you really are. Pretending is easy and like I said peacefully peaceful. Again I would never know. It’s always chaos in my head and out there is like running the gauntlet. You are lucky if you make it alive by the end of each day. Cruel world they say. I strongly disagree. It’s the people who is cruel not the world. The world is beautiful. At least the part that cruel people leave alone.
I’m getting sidetracked again.
How about you?
Are you part of the herd?
A dead fish?
Or something else?
“I’ve never been lonely. I’ve been in a room — I’ve felt suicidal. I’ve been depressed. I’ve felt awful — awful beyond all — but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me…or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I’ve never been bothered with because I’ve always had this terrible itch for solitude. It’s being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might feel loneliness. I’ll quote Ibsen, “The strongest men are the most alone.” I’ve never thought, “Well, some beautiful blonde will come in here and give me a fuck-job, rub my balls, and I’ll feel good.” No, that won’t help. You know the typical crowd, “Wow, it’s Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?” Well, yeah. Because there’s nothing out there. It’s stupidity. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I’ve never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night. I hid in bars because I didn’t want to hide in factories. That’s all. Sorry for all the millions, but I’ve never been lonely. I like myself. I’m the best form of entertainment I have. Let’s drink more wine!”
Is that so?
When you hit rock bottom the only way is up?
Dangerous are the people who got nothing to lose
They up the stake and go all the way.
I feel like that sometimes.
Other times I worry about everything and nothing.
But one thing is true
The more you have, the more scared you get of losing them.
Same with people I guess.
The more you love them, the greater the fear.
Watching thriller and detective films sometimes, I curse when I learned that the leading character has a family, children especially. I think to myself: How stupid you are to have an Achilles heel. In that line of work, better to live alone and have nothing you cannot walk away from when the situation calls for it.
If I have got my wish, I am living that kind of life. Solitary. Lone wolf. Always in transition, nothing to lose, never vulnerable.
I will be a Ronin.
Yeah. I like that. A secret fantasy of mine.
I never walk into a place I don’t know how to walk out of.
And I never took a companion I cannot shoot in the head without a second thought.
Sadness… It is more like melancholia which I believe I was born with. I was eight years old sitting on a breakwater that my father had fashioned to protect the dikes from the waves when I first realized that this world has nothing to offer to me. Even then the feeling of being been there done that twice over and back was prominent and constant. I was not sad nor depressed. Just an understanding of a fact. There are only two occasions in my whole life that I’ve felt that way. For the rest, I’m fairly okay. Melancholic but never lonely.
“Sometimes people who don’t socialize much aren’t actually antisocial. They just have no tolerance for drama and fake people.”
This is what I want to say to anybody who accuses me of being antisocial.
I’m in a point of my life where I don’t care anymore what people think of me. I just want peace and quiet away from all the cacophony of a crowd.
“As a highly sensitive introvert, I need plenty of quiet alone time to recharge. Loud talking and music drain my energy and make me feel claustrophobic.”
“I can function quite well in public situations but find myself completely exhausted afterward. I struggled to make banal small talk with groups of people, much preferring a deeper discussion with one or two others. I can stand up and give a talk and lead a group discussion, no problem, but then I have to retreat and rest for a whole day.”
Worse still, I need at least three weeks to recuperate.
“I love my family, and I can tolerate people in my space for a little while, but if they stay for more than a day, I get stressed. Picking up on their feelings, having to be ‘on’ all the time, not having my own space to retreat to — it’s too much.”
“I cannot tolerate chaos and disorder especially in my personal space. I need everything organized and clean. I cannot do clutter. I must have the house put in order before I start for the day. Otherwise, I’m just so distracted by the extra sensory input.”
“Others seem to need a radio or TV on in the background ‘for company,’ but it drives me crazy. I love shops with no music. I can’t cope with the sound of power tools, lawnmowers, or leaf-blowers — it’s excruciating.”
“Strong smells especially from perfume or essential oils. I find them overpowering and they make me physically ill.”
“I absorb and hold on to other people’s emotions, which can leave me feeling sad, upset, or drained.”
Like now, I’ve been out too long yesterday and here I am, 6:30 in the morning and still awake typing despite taking a tranquilizer and a sleeping pill. I’m too stressed to sleep even though my body is exhausted and ready to give up.
People don’t understand that being with them takes too much effort and energy. They asked but don’t listen and all ready to judge. Better to keep away than to cause a discussion or misunderstanding even. I just don’t want to waste time explaining anymore.
“One morning she woke up different. Done with trying to figure out who was with her, against her, or walking down the middle because they didn’t have the guts to pick a side. She was done with anything that didn’t bring her peace. She realized that opinions were a dime a dozen, validation was for parking, and loyalty wasn’t a word, but a lifestyle. It was this day that her life changed. And not because of a man or a job but because she realized that life is way too short to leave the key to your happiness in someone else’s pocket. It was the day life began!” ~ Sarah Krycinski
I walked too long with guilt.
Knowing that for the most part, it wasn’t my fault. That in the end, I had to choose for myself or I might as well give up altogether. I know not so many people would understand. In fact, I know no one who does. It got something to do once again with expectations and what society dictates, not what is best for all party involves. It took me decades to forgive myself. Partially. And to resign to the fact that it is what it is and there is no damn thing I can do about it. I still feel guilty sometimes, but it doesn’t keep me awake anymore and the urge to compensate is gone. I still do my best but I don’t expect appreciation nor understanding for the choices I had made. I learned to distance myself and draw the line. I no longer hope for reconciliation or acceptance. I just want peace. Even if it means being on my own, far from what once I hold dear.
“Don’t you feel lonely? I see that you always eat out alone, watch movies alone, drink in cafes and read books in libraries alone. I always see you isolating yourself in a room with your phone, alone. Doesn’t it make you sad? Lonely?”
“Loneliness doesn’t work that way for me. The reason why I’m always alone is that I don’t want to be lonely. To be with myself is appreciating my own presence, especially when others couldn’t. You see, for me, being surrounded by people but still feeling alone— that’s lonely. Having a group to go out with but not feeling like you belong— that’s lonely. I’d rather be with myself and be alone, and no— that doesn’t make me lonely. Being with myself means I don’t have to fight for attention. Being with myself means that I don’t have to pretend that I’m a different person.”
~ thalia b.
I’m someone who wouldn’t mind spending all day alone.
Only one thing would make me feel alone.
Being with people I don’t feel myself with, being at places that don’t match my soul.
Being silent when I want to talk the most.
Being lonely isn’t sitting all by myself,
It’s being confined in an atmosphere that doesn’t make me feel real.