I just learned you can write blog entries on this site. There's a lot on my mind at the moment, things both that joyously animate me and vex me. I think social isolation does both.
This is tangentially related, but I'm currently on a plane, the first time I've boarded one since 2013. It's a religious trip as I'm going to Mecca. This most joyous of occasions has filled me with thoughts in relation to my life, faith, and other things, of which social isolation is a symptom. To put it in the most simplest of terms, I have always felt alone in the world. The only instances of coherence I've had is, well, on the Internet. This clashing sense of complete disconnection from the world around me has dogged me since childhood. I must admit, my life is better now than it's ever been. I'm a student at a nice university, and even got a scholarship to study there. My parents are both proud of me, I have friends (at least on the Internet) who I love and who do love me back, and I have passions in life that really enthuse me. Yet, somehow, there's this sense of seclusion from the world I bear and have born with me since infancy.
One may think this is down to shyness or anxiety. I beg to differ; I can speak to people relatively well. I simply really dislike this abs
When I was a retarded younger teen, I'd blame this on "normies/NORPs/normals". But now, as an adult (well, barely, I'm 19) looking back, it really isn't that. It isn't some grand moral or philosophical qualm about humanity, far from it. I think misanthropy as a philosophy is absolutely irrational. There's 8 billion of us, and casting some generalization of human morality is frankly stupid to me. We humans may share a lot in common, but morality isn't one of them.
Recently, a friend told me that "imagination seems to be your favorite toy", and I suppose that is true. One thing that makes solitude not only bearable, but peaceful and calm is imagination. I'd close my eyes, imagine myself doing things. Examples include playing video games with my waifu, or visiting an arcade. Another thing is I imagine this large Arabesque metropolis, for lack of a better word. The outskirts are laden with old houses with desiccated paint cracking and falling off, old rusted iron doors, and in the center lie Arabesque towers with minarets and balconies. I suppose you could call it escapism, and I don't contradict you whatsoever. I simply temporarily escape from this clashing turmoil to a place where I feel one with my surroundings.
In that regard, being obsessed with ideals and abstractions over the worldly and mundane I believe came with faith. I confide in the idea that there is a God, that I can be dutiful to Him, and that what is on this mortal plane isn't all there is to life. I confide in the idea that there is some grand realm beyond where all these impossibilities and imperfections all fall quivering before His throne, where one can experience God's perfection.
To be completely frank with you, isolation isn't all that bad... for now. I no longer live with my parents on weekdays, which has significantly diminished the amount of face-to-face interaction in my daily life. As this is a state I've been in for a long time now, I find great peace in it. However, I can't really quantify which is greater: the peace or the sadness. I swing between them like a pendulum, often daily. It hurts and it heals, somehow simultaneously.
I guess that's all that's on my mind. Thanks, if you've gotten this far in reading this.
