a note on non-existence
March 22nd 2008 00:45
There is a certain freedom that comes with profound silence. A silence that is neither melancholy nor persistent; but rather a silence that is observant and completely idiosyncratic.
This is the silence that envelopes me four days a week when I’m at uni. I don’t mean to be a quiet and reserved as I am, or bitchy and ignorantly silent. I would much rather walk alone and read alone and do all I ever want in complete isolation. This seems odd to all who know me; know me as the school vice captain, the party animal, the talkative opinion-on-everything.
What they may not realize is that with silence comes a central authority to all one does. A kind of separation from the immanent intrusions of others thoughts and perception; of their original annoyances. I am not for a second assuming that when one does not speak to another one gains a central voice without any other influences (this concept completely opposes all my thoughts on the "post modern collective" that none of can escape).
i find that these past years of this kind of isolated enjoyment have allowed me to dive and swim through the books I have read, the essays I have written and the faces I have seen. It is not too much to say that this is where I harbour my most dynamic and progressive thoughts; where I feel most myself and more than myself. I do not hate my other life; although I abhor the thought that I very much may be a creature of separate lives. I love my friends who without I would surely perish and the other fast paced things that I perform with great energy. But I love my isolation and this has kept me far too distant from the lights and shadows that are mean to be my experience of young life. I don’t have constant fights with non existent boyfriends nor do I have any interest in saving for a house.
I do think that my lingering problems with eating affect me more or less maybe, I’m still not sure. But overall it is a good life, that private life, the one I like to live.
This is the silence that envelopes me four days a week when I’m at uni. I don’t mean to be a quiet and reserved as I am, or bitchy and ignorantly silent. I would much rather walk alone and read alone and do all I ever want in complete isolation. This seems odd to all who know me; know me as the school vice captain, the party animal, the talkative opinion-on-everything.
What they may not realize is that with silence comes a central authority to all one does. A kind of separation from the immanent intrusions of others thoughts and perception; of their original annoyances. I am not for a second assuming that when one does not speak to another one gains a central voice without any other influences (this concept completely opposes all my thoughts on the "post modern collective" that none of can escape).
i find that these past years of this kind of isolated enjoyment have allowed me to dive and swim through the books I have read, the essays I have written and the faces I have seen. It is not too much to say that this is where I harbour my most dynamic and progressive thoughts; where I feel most myself and more than myself. I do not hate my other life; although I abhor the thought that I very much may be a creature of separate lives. I love my friends who without I would surely perish and the other fast paced things that I perform with great energy. But I love my isolation and this has kept me far too distant from the lights and shadows that are mean to be my experience of young life. I don’t have constant fights with non existent boyfriends nor do I have any interest in saving for a house.
I do think that my lingering problems with eating affect me more or less maybe, I’m still not sure. But overall it is a good life, that private life, the one I like to live.
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