crowds

"And only he can relish a debauch of vitality at the expense of the human species, on whom, in his cradle, a fairy has bestowed the love of masks and masquerading, the hate of home, and the passion for roaming." CB

Spending the day on my own downtown, I realized how much I miss the hoards and the abandonment and energy of which their presence shares. Oh, the open claustrophobia both smothers and relieves, permitting me to reveal all, unnoticed. Away from the bigotry of coworkers, away from the lonesome apartment, away from the ever-escalating expectations inherent in pre-existing relationships, I relish in the tranquility of this anonymity. Here, there are collectives without requirement for conformity, random and unassembled masses which excite my senses, heightening my observations. I lurk, imperceptible, but so very aware. This has been my tactic to life.

I carry a notebook to write and a book to read everywhere I go. I enjoy wandering without direction, stopping here or there to make this or that note. I am content not to say a word, to observe but not connect (not that I'm actually opposed to connection but just that I'm finicky and skeptical to welcome such relationships so easily). Perhaps my recent anxieties are not from increased solitude in itself but instead because my most consuming outlets for interaction are all forced, obligatory, stifling situations. I forget how how much these day-to-day obligations overwhelm my time and mentality.