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Musings on a Sunny Day


 

I write for a fairly successful blog. Not in term of numbers or followers, but in terms of content: a well-written and balanced page of writing. The blog is composed of 2 fiction writers and a poet, it has a good variety of topics that might interest fellow writers and readers in equal measure. But lately I’ve felt the need to go solo. I cannot emphasize enough the feeling of freedom that writing anonymously gives you. Not knowing who is going to read you, not being judged by the people you know.  A desire for invisibility, or just freedom. Not expecting anything back. The list goes on, not to mention other unpleasant side effects of working with others. 

 

In the middle of the lockdown I feel that the solitude I have been confined to is not enough, and I am trying to disengage from those few people I am still in touch with. Odd as it might seem I feel like breaking free from those few relationships I still have. As Sartre put it so well, ‘Hell is Other People’. But why? What has been happening during these days of self-isolation? I have developed a taste for living free from conflicts, compromises, always biting the reins. Having to limit myself at every turn. I simply don’t want to do it anymore. 

 

I have been away from this blog for a while and now it feels like my salvation. Yesterday I tried to think of people I could talk to, to explain how I felt, and why I have reached such a low point of tolerance, but I couldn’t think of anyone who would listen without giving me advice or contradicting me (omg I sound like a psychopath). What’s wrong? It’s just little things. Yesterday I got almost run over by a bicycle on the pavement, the guy didn’t even bat an eyelid, he just carried on at maximum speed while I turned around and looked at him in disbelief. I was walking to the library and the pavement was littered with disposable masks. I just don’t get it.  Why is there so much stupidity around us? Have you ever felt it? But if you say anything the reaction is always the same, ‘c’est la vie.’ ‘Just relax and ignore it’. Or, ‘find the good side in people.’

 

There were days when I liked people, but those were the days when those I knew were special in many ways, I just didn’t know they were. I thought that the all world was like that. That’s the problem with growing up in an intellectually privileged environment. You will feel surrounded by stupidity for the rest of your life. I can’t even begin to imagine what Chomsky must feel like. Usually I can cope with it, but not this week. I feel vulnerable, and alone. And Chomsky won’t talk to me…

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