so many words in my head but so few come out of my mouth…

had a bit of a reality check last night during an online chat with a friend that lives so far away (geographically) karmic odds are that i’ll most likely never meet this person in the flesh, when it hit me, i don’t talk much. and i mean that literally. spoken words do not exit my mouth except on rare occasions of being polite with shopkeepers. i don’t speak. there really is no one “special” in my life that i feel comfortable enough to have conversations using my voice with. i think it is just a phase consistent with the season, although that’s a faulty excuse, argument. it’s not just because it’s cold and wet outside that i don’t feel like talking. it’s deeper than that. i’ve crossed a line, probably many, many years ago where i transformed from an external, worldly conversationalist to a silent observer and listener. i not only do not strike up conversations with strangers at bus stops or in cafes, but i no longer feel a need to have conversations with close compatriots. i used to have a hunger for conversation. a need to be able to share my thoughts and receive feedback from another living being and to be able to enjoy listening to the thoughts of another, but anymore, in these times of it not happening easily or regularly, it just doesn’t seem to matter if i do it anymore or not. after five decades of life, i have adapted to my environment.

a couple of years ago i entertained the luxury of allowing imaginary voices in my head create a sense of company for me, but now it seems that even they have become quiet. what is frightening though is that i no longer seem to need the human interaction. i am content listening to my own thoughts in my own head work themselves through. it’s a form of solitary confinement, really. and that is what life is for all of us, i think. living in a world where you experience the illusion of having “others” around you, you will get confused from seeing how you really are alone in this world. contemplating something that i wrote in my novel, a statement about how i felt that there was importance in the power of television dramas to comfort the lonely, i now see more clearly what this obsession and compulsion has done in my life. the lives of people in tele-dramas replace my need to have real life experiences and relationships with real people.

is this a remedy or the ailment. again, there may have been a line i crossed from finding tele-dramas being a simple curiosity to where they became a replacement and necessity for my need to have the sensations of human emotions. i leech emotions from the dramas created in non-existent relationships, and sadly, it’s sufficient for me. more sadly, the more i watch, the more i lose need for human interaction, and even more sadly, the more i lose belief in the human system. i mean, i’ve adapted. i’m content being alone. i’m content being silent. what will i be like if i live another 20 years? i don’t even talk out loud to myself. i think one day the sound of my own voice will surprise and shock me.

another piece of this realism shock from last night came from travelling back into the archives of this blog. someone special, a new acquaintance told me that they actually read my entire blog recently, and this really surprised me (flattered and impressed me). she urged me to look back at some of the things that i had written. i have not done this in a really long time. i jumped all the way back to my first entries in 2005 and was amazed at how clear and precise my thinking and writing was back then. i was ambitious about my writing for one thing, but it seemed that i had a more powerful life-energy pulsing through me than i do now. ok, whatever…