The ones we love the most are us. Humans are selfish by nature. Those who’re not selfish have developed this quality through hard working exercises. I’m not the one though. I am selfish. In a reasonably sensible way, but nevertheless. It is only when we face with other people’s problems, we come to realize that our own are not really problems. Yet we do like to think we have them. And if we don’t, we’ll make them up. Why? Maybe to get attention? Humans can’t live without attention…you might call yourself a “loner” and be proud of self-independence, but there will be times when you will crave for attention so bad you’ll be doing stupid things for it. I’m not saying that this is what my hiding was about though. (Otherwise it’s kinda contradictory to the purpose of it, isn’t it?)
It is an interesting question, why I’ve made my journal private yet keep writing normal life things in it…the funny side of it – I have no legitimate explanation. I suppose, from time to time we just go with the impulse without thinking of the reason…It was a coincidental mix of “everything at once”, that triggered a wish to lay low. Not a hurt, not imaginary tragedy, not a struggle within self or in response to someone’s actions…Just stress at work, friends estranged and a silly envy to…my own hb…LOL yeah, he’s gone to the conference to Mumbai and I was so close to join him for the fantastic Indian holidays. But it was not meant to happen this time. And while helping him to prepare for the trip, digging out what interesting places he can visit while there, for a moment I felt really odd, finding myself fighting with the pale colored envy…I do believe this is a natural feeling though for I’m a Traveler. It’s an almost physical urge. Sitting in one place for a long time brings that feeling of loosing interest in life. Going new places seeing new things, meeting new people is my dream lifestyle. Not always I have means to support it. Just like for anyone else out there – dreams are called dreams because they are what can not happen.
So yeah, I didn’t run away to hide, but rather descended down to the bottom of my swamp to hibernate for a while…I thought, that I would stop writing in DD, but this didn’t happened. Well, I didn’t dissolve into deep analysis about why…Just assumed that if it felt like writing, so be it. On a surface the whole situation feels like closing eyes and slowly falling into a vacuum…emptiness, but not a scary or depressing one. Just half-shutting all senses to let them gain strength back again…maybe I’m just becoming too lazy in my way of living…or too unconcerned?...
Opening diary back in response to e-mails…Somehow my words that all is well were not convincing enough…well, all IS well and this is the proof of it. Moulting into greens to imitate some change (the thought was that since it’s locked, might as well refresh the decoration). And bringing up a plagiarized thought:
Having someone wonder where you are when you don't come home at night is a very old human need. [~Margaret Mead]
It is an interesting question, why I’ve made my journal private yet keep writing normal life things in it…the funny side of it – I have no legitimate explanation. I suppose, from time to time we just go with the impulse without thinking of the reason…It was a coincidental mix of “everything at once”, that triggered a wish to lay low. Not a hurt, not imaginary tragedy, not a struggle within self or in response to someone’s actions…Just stress at work, friends estranged and a silly envy to…my own hb…LOL yeah, he’s gone to the conference to Mumbai and I was so close to join him for the fantastic Indian holidays. But it was not meant to happen this time. And while helping him to prepare for the trip, digging out what interesting places he can visit while there, for a moment I felt really odd, finding myself fighting with the pale colored envy…I do believe this is a natural feeling though for I’m a Traveler. It’s an almost physical urge. Sitting in one place for a long time brings that feeling of loosing interest in life. Going new places seeing new things, meeting new people is my dream lifestyle. Not always I have means to support it. Just like for anyone else out there – dreams are called dreams because they are what can not happen.
So yeah, I didn’t run away to hide, but rather descended down to the bottom of my swamp to hibernate for a while…I thought, that I would stop writing in DD, but this didn’t happened. Well, I didn’t dissolve into deep analysis about why…Just assumed that if it felt like writing, so be it. On a surface the whole situation feels like closing eyes and slowly falling into a vacuum…emptiness, but not a scary or depressing one. Just half-shutting all senses to let them gain strength back again…maybe I’m just becoming too lazy in my way of living…or too unconcerned?...
Opening diary back in response to e-mails…Somehow my words that all is well were not convincing enough…well, all IS well and this is the proof of it. Moulting into greens to imitate some change (the thought was that since it’s locked, might as well refresh the decoration). And bringing up a plagiarized thought:
Having someone wonder where you are when you don't come home at night is a very old human need. [~Margaret Mead]