Amag #4: One-winged butterfly

                Here I am again, being drawn in solitude by the four corners of my room. I see the filthy floor and feel disgusted by it but I’m too languid to make any move, much more to excrete perspiration by cleaning the surface. It could be because of the frazzling heat, or the fact that I’m all alone, that makes me cull the idea of any movement.

                Though some people rejoice in isolation and trust that it is vital in one’s life, I feel the opposite. I fear isolation. I dread being alone. I believe that people are meant to be with at least one other person in order to truly live. Of course I believe that we should also have an “alone time” every now and then. I save it for my “bathroom moments” whereas I sit on my throne and analyze my life or whatever situation I am in. That moment is already enough for me. I can already get in touch with myself and sort out my own feelings and ideas in a number of minutes I spend on that throne.

                I’m not a hyper social butterfly that flies from one group of friends to another. I can even leave unnoticed inside a room full of people. I’m not remarkable. I do not initiate conversations unless really bored, or needed. I don’t have the talent of being able to talk and talk about anything and everything that exists or we imagine exists. Most of the times, I depict myself boring to talk to for not being able to relate to most of the topics. I don’t have a lot to say about certain subjects and my mind flutters from one idea to another, which makes me hard to comprehend. So sometimes I just choose to shut up instead of share something from my scattered brain.

                So, welcome to my life. The life of a creature yearning to be surrounded by people, but doesn’t have the characteristics to be such.