2:47 p.m. - 2003-06-11
hermit the dog
People don�t seem to understand my whole �hermit� idea (see previous entry). It�s really not as bad as it seems�
The way I see it, we�re always �dealing� with people. Our friends, our families, our foes, our co-workers, strangers on the street, that homeless guy who hangs out down the street from you, stupid drivers who put your life in danger, rude McDonald�s employees who you actually have to *ask* for a free smile from. People are everywhere, and a lot of the time, they are at the core of your frustration.
Don�t get me wrong, though. People can also be the source of a huge amount of happiness, joy and laughter. The good things in life. I know that. And I certainly appreciate it.
But sometimes everything, and I mean everything - the good, the bad and the ugly - just get to be too much. You need a vacation, a refresher, something that is completely yours and can�t be touched by anything, good or bad. You need to be in a place that�s level and comfortable. That�s where the hermit thing comes into it.
All by yourself. A place where traffic and public transport and work and worries and excitement and everything just gets left behind for a little while. Where you can concentrate on different thoughts, the ones that tend to get pushed into the background for the more pressing matters. You can take a lazy day and not have to feel guilty because the kitchen needs cleaning or that report you need to get out is late. Go to bed whenever you want, you have no need to get up early. But you can, if you want to see the sunrise. You can talk to yourself, dance with the mirror, and sing to your hearts content, never once feeling the tingle of external judgment. Where your biggest concern about the future is what to have to dinner tomorrow.
Doesn�t that sound nice?
Sure, we�re social beings. Hermitizing yourself would probably get tired after a while. But, personally, I think I�d enjoy it�at least for a bit.
Or maybe I just need a nap.
