I think everyone has at some point felt that they didn't want to be by themselves, that they wanted to have some company. Someone they can share things with, be it material items or secrets, or opinions or thoughts, or feelings or things that defy explanation. They need someone to fall back on, to seek out, to spar against, to rely on, to love and maybe hate. No man is an island, and everyone should want to feel that someone out there understands them, and fathoms the world the way they do, or is able to explain what can't be understood.
Not being alone isn't just defined by physical company, because someone can still feel alone in a room full of people. It's about having an emotional connection with the living, knowing that someone is listening and understanding what you say and feel.
So it's actually good to have someone by your side, or at the very least, someone who is listening and feeling your heart, and if they're kind enough, to stop it from breaking. Therefore having someone close to you is so vital to keep your sanity from falling apart.
But really, do you think that not being alone is all that it's cracked up to be?
These past few days, I keep contemplating that question. I keep thinking about the definition of being alone, and in the right context, being alone is actually a good thing. When you're by yourself, the only person you need to look after is you, the person in the mirror. No one else to watch over, to follow, to worry over, to listen to, to take care of at your personal expense.
I think about this because when I get the urge to be away from the noise, to be away from all the things that test my patience, somehow the discord and disturbance find a way to seek me out. For example, at the office, I wish that my colleague would simply stop bugging me so often about trivial things. Half the time, it's my fault for not wanting to give her a chance, because deep down I just dislike her, but I take the blame for that because it's not her fault I feel that way, it's just the way she is. The other half of the time, she is just so damn oblivious. And I keep myself from wanting to snap, reacting with ignorance and indifference towards her instead. It's those moments that I tell myself it's OK, we're all human and I can act like that when and if the need arises.
Then there's my family, who never ceases to amaze me with their rotten timing. I want to be alone, and someone walks in with a request. And it's uncanny how I'm always the only one with the right solution to their problem. The best example would be when my mum can't seem to find the right channel for the TV show she's looking for, and I help her find it. In this case, I am basically the best answer to her problem because technical difficulties with the TV set is my specialty. And in reality, I don't mind doing this, it's just the rotten timing. I'd tell you about my sister's equally bad timing in invading my need for tranquil moments, but I've made my point already.
A lot of times, I just want to be alone. By myself. Away from the riff raff and noise. Just sitting there, wherever that is, doing what I want to do, with no one telling me I can't do it, or they need me to do something for them first. Mind you, I'm actually a pretty helpful guy. I'm usually the go-to guy for a lot of things. But a lot of times, I want to help myself first, before I go crazy inside.
So back to my question, is it better being alone or not being alone? A lot of times either choice is a double-edged sword. But in my world, either choice depends on the situation. When I don't want to be alone, the company around me aren't the ones I seek. When I want to be alone, the ones I need seek me out.
Perhaps this will all change when I have a significant other someday. When that happens, maybe I'll get a fresher perspective on the subject. Till then I'll just keep thinking.
On a side note, I visited an acquaintance's Myspace page and discovered an old song that I had forgotten, and hearing it again reminded me what a great song it is. It's a song by Roxette called Queen Of Rain. Check it out.
Last Tuesday July 1st was Marit Larsen's birthday, and I totally forgot about it. How on earth did I let that happen? Geez. I only realised it when I paid a visit to the Old Dirt Road. It'd be unfair if I paid tribute to Marit's former partner's birthday and not hers. It's like celebrating George and Ringo's birthdays and ignoring John and Paul's, but you get my drift.
So anyways, Happy Belated Birthday to the wonderfully talented Marit Elisabeth Larsen. Gratulerer Med Dagen;)
Word is that there hasn't been any news on her for a long time, and I wonder why that is. There's probably no cause for concern, but I certainly hope we haven't seen the last of her on the music scene.
It's been a week of revelations for me. Some were small, some were familiar, some were not so pleasing to the eye. But it's all in a week's work for me. In the meantime I think I'm going to try and be a better writer for this blog. Wish me luck.
