Inner Philosophy
So I don’t care. Is that really so bad? I never tell people that I will see them, yet inexplicably I find that several of my friends routinely become peeved with my lack of apparent effort towards maintaining contact. I am my own best friend. You can analyze it all you want (I know I have…) and say that I have a human trust complex or an obsession with self-reliance bordering on unhealthy…but that’s who I am: take it or leave it. Perhaps I do secretly romanticize the notion that I do not need others in the way others seem to need each other…but perhaps I don’t. It is a bit odd though…I am not lonely in the sense I wish I had more friends or that sort of thing, as I have never had problems finding and losing friends. I am not even lonely in the typical sensitive-male longing for their true love sense anymore either. I feel somewhat stranded from all of humanity…removed from the workings and mechanisms that we all live by, and consequently I am removed from people in general…at least in my own perception (but isn’t that all that matters?). Does everyone have an overly-analytical inner-dialogue that seems to circle and follow them incessantly through the day, never ceasing for even a moment’s rest? Do others secretly create self-aware explanatory models of the working world in order to perhaps one day fit the pieces together? Do others even care that the pieces exist? Would I care if they cared? Will any of it matter…for all of my high and mighty ideals and ideas will I even be able to hold on to them through the dullness created by the routine of my daily life. If I push you away, I can never let you down. If I push you away, I can never make you cry. If I push you away, I’ll be safe from the complications of human interaction that simultaneously seem to terrify and fascinate me so much. If I push you away…not even I can fuck things up.
Adieu. Navid.
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