June 22, 1999 - Written on June 9, 1999

I'm turning into a hermit; an honest-to-God hermit. "Whaddaya want?!" or so says my mind whenever approached. Outwardly, it's that casual, noncommittal expression that says "Hmm? Yeees..?" It's been happening over a long time now, and I've always accreditted it to stress (or anything smiliar), but I find myself growing more wary by the minute of "hanging out", of being called, or "doing lunch". Even of shopping-- but wait(!), I've never been a shopper.

It's not that I don't like people, but I'm just not a people person. Although, that is an odd thing to say for a person who as a kid attracted people. I could never figure out why that was. I was pampered by the adults and followed by my peers up to the point until I hit puberty. Or maybe that whole memory stems from an arrogant sort of imagination. Needless to say, I don't attract anyone now. (Okay, punk, I know what that sounded like! ...And I have the grace to laugh. (chuckles)) In fact, as far as I know, I do nothing to encourage people to get to know me. You know the person who stands in the corner at parties, with a glass in hand and a why- did-I-come "hmmm" expression? That would be me. The person who stands anyone and just keeps looking from one side to another side as if she had something to do? That would be me again.

In no way am I very big on social niceties. Granted, when approached directly, I like to think I can hold up my end of the conversation. And granted, at such parties, I wouldn't mind having someone (intelligent) to talk to, familiar or otherwise. But maybe, just maybe, my capacity for human contact has overloaded itself.

Now that I've gone and offended all of my friends, I'd like to say it isn't anyone in particular or everyone. It's just the very need to be alone. I need to be alone. How would I spend my time? I don't know. I don't need to know. Maybe that's the beauty of it. If I wanted to, I could just stare at the ceiling and pretend I was a rock. Or if it struck my fancy, I could just sleep and sleep and sleep...

I need to be alone!

Is it so bad to be alone? To collect my thoughts? To give some quality time to me? Don't I need to be alone to take a shower?!

Ahem...

No, I'm not running away from people wanting something from me... Or maybe I am: they want my presence. As flattering as that is, as much as I appreciate that, I need to be alone! For the sake of my own sanity and any friendship I value, I believe it's imperative that I am alone. I need that time before I turn feral on civilization and everyone.

Psychologists could very well have me labelled as a prime example for total regression of social skills. But I can communicate. I do communicate. However, I will admit that I have crossed connections in my neural system that make me say, "Sure, I'm free" when I want to say "NO!!!!"

I can hardly enjoy the time I do have alone because I anticipate company. I love my friends, I do. It's always fun to yabber away. But I'm burnt out. I don't want to go anywhere... unless it's to stay there for a while, (let's all say it together, now:) "alone."

Solitude makes one reflective. Goodness knows my thinking skills need a jump-start. Isolation makes one appreciative of company. Oh, come on, it's obvious I'm about to rip apart my friends. Don't I need a lesson in appreication? And sometimes, seclusion is for safety. Do I really need to elaborate on that point?

ARR! BAH-HUMBUG. What are you doing here anyway? Didn't I make myself clear?

(mumble, mumble, mumble...)

[Disclaimer: This was written tongue-in-cheek!]

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