September 26, 2016 • 3:57am
And I chose to be alone that time… because I feel like I can’t cope with the world anymore.. — to people, places… and situations. I can’t do it anymore that I always feel like going away; going somewhere far from here. Perhaps escape. But I don’t feel like “escaping” would be the right word for it. I want to leave. I just want to leave PERIOD. I always tend to shut myself out but that’s because I want it to be that way. The world I am in has creating too much clamor and I have to keep quiet and go seek some place that’d be utterly silent. So I disconnect. Often. I need to disconnect myself from the world every once in a while…(or more preferably,-often) I need to think… I need to keep silent, I need to distance– and give myself some space. I need to be far away. I need to breathe. I need to do all these things alone.
And every time,–just every time I do this quietude and solitude thing… I always seem to like it. In fact,– I loved it. That I cultivated in it… I became so used to it that I loved it; that I’ve been too attached and tied up on it, and it just feels so right. The satisfaction… the freedom…–that, I wanted more. I cling to it, deeply. I wanted more of it, I want it so bad. I wanted more of the freedom that I feel whenever I’m alone… the freedom that I get when I’m far away from the world. –Or at least, that’s how it used to feel like,–for me. Far away from everyone; from everything…–from everything else. There’s always a sense that, ‘This is what I want’.‘This is it. I’m going to want more’. I’ve gone wanting to have more of that time I had felt free… That reentering the real world, and facing my real life became so damn hard. It became so hard that it started to feel so new… and foreign. So hard that it started to feel scary. It started to frighten me because I’m no longer used to it; not anymore… That I began to feel anxious about the real world. Anxious about my real life; even afraid of it, sometimes. I always feel like having panic attacks talking to people or just going outside and facing the real world…seeing the sun, and exposing from the light… that I tend to shut myself out away from them; from all of it as a reflex.
It’s as if… it’s as if the skin I was touching wasn’t even my own skin to begin with.. Like the way the life I am living wasn’t even mine as well. I’m afraid to leave the world I had created. To step outside the boundaries I’ve built… To go beyond the lines… Stepping outside is like losing all the sense of freedom of just being with me, and only me. Without mistakes; without judgements… Just me being with me, and me, being ‘me’. The version I don’t have to put on a show. Just me and my own thoughts. Alone. Besides, there’s no difference when I’m with them,–that’s how I feel; that’s what I am.
It’s safe to say that I was indeed addicted to silence. The silence itself; the silence of my own. Me, being quiet, and minding my own life in one corner. It was okay, I don’t have to pretend; I don’t have to give a damn. Selfish as it may sound, but it’s the only way I see fit. –To save save myself, to keep my own sanity. I’m addicted to it; I wanted silence because it brings me peace, and freedom. There’s a sense of peace in quietude… and isolation. The kind that gives you freedom to entertain only your own troubled thoughts… To think of your own messy life. Instead of thinking about what will they think of you. It’s good to feel that way; to feel that expectations were lifted from you. You only have to expect for yourself. You are free, somehow. There’s a peace, somehow, knowing that you only have to think for yourself; to fill only your own expectations… No matter how messy the life can be, there’s a peace in being quiet, keeping silent and being alone. No one wants to hear all the harsh noises… and the unforgiving earsplitting sound of the world while you also have that millions of noise inside your head. Those freaking thoughts in your mind… the weariness in your heart and all that. Hell, you won’t ever need it anymore. What we need is peace of mind
sometimes. No, scratch that. We need the peace of mind often. And I, however, only find it in being alone. I find it in silence… of everything. You can pretend that everything is peaceful for a while…for as long as you want it to be; it was a good kind of emptiness…
It’s like going away; leaving. It’s the real escapist. The best one, perhaps.