I dare not claim that i don't desire company, a presence of some sort, for to a certain degree it is indubitable that we all do. Yet i find myself consciously drawing back from human interaction, hesitant. Only after much thought that do i proceed again, venturing forward with great caution, and it occurs to me that i might be afraid.
Perhaps interaction is somewhat of a sine qua non, a prerequisite to human existence itself. On what grounds, then, is there reason for fear?
I don't know.
Maybe, just maybe... i'm afraid of losing myself. No one truly knows who you are except yourself. Because to gain social acceptance we all wear a mask, and perhaps for some, masks. Only when we are entirely alone do we tear these masks down to reveal our true selves --raw, unfeigned and without pretense.
I have no qualms of the effectiveness of masking as a self defense mechanism, for it is a custom that i sometimes practice myself. I have recently come to new realization, however, that each time we strip this mask off, part of our skin gets torn off consequently. Yet repetition of this cycle transpires at such a precipitous pace...i cannot help but wonder if one day we would wake up to a perfectly foreign, unrecognizable face.
I used to believe the greatest fear in life was to end up alone in this world. But to risk losing oneself in upkeeping superficial social relations. Is it not then better to remain remote (if somewhat detached) and on one's own as much as possible?
It is with some trepidation that i entertain thoughts on a subject as such, and as i do become increasingly conscious of the fact that i am more alone than ever. Sitting on the couch in an empty house, it is a vast void, comprising nothing, just me and my thoughts. Solitude.
And sometimes, that feels pretty okay.
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