Loneliness

For a long time I kept myself to an even keel.  I felt busy, loved and secure in my little safe world.   It was small, but it was predictable, and I really cherished the quiet times for reflection. 

Then I found a group of cheerful people and I grew out towards their light a bit.  I became a little more sociable, chatted a bit more.    Even when I was trying to concentrate on the win, I would grab my chat box and text something in reply.

I grew to treasure and look forward to some of them.  grins You know who you are.  I was content to balance typing and playing and the lag of conversations was normal.  You got your talking done in small bites.

It is easy to keep it superficial when you just chat at the beginning and in between rounds.  Even so we managed to create deep meaningful relationships.

Then I fired up live chat.  OH SHIT.  it was like  Dorothy going over the rainbow into color.  The tones of voices, and the laughter. and the singing.  It is so beguiling.  After living in my own head for so long. I got giddy from it.  It was so much more than nice.  I sang.  My heart tore a bit.  Someone from my family  told me I couldn't sing;  to shut up.  My heart tore a big wide river of hurt.  I cried and got angry about it.  I want to sing.

Now I feel loneliness, and it isn't much fun.  I'm not on an even keel.   I don't like the silences.  I don't like playing pool in black and white anymore. I like Reese's giggle.  It is like the sun comes out. 

I don't like a huge cacophony in my head, but I do like my special peeps sounding off in my life.

loneliness

something with which we are all familiar.

hm loneliness.. its shitty.. but its unavoidable..

i live alone
i choose to live alone because i like my freedom
because people aggravate me
im difficult
im anti-social
and shy

things most of my online friends do not believe.  thats ok.  im alone in my truth.

i embrace loneliness because sometimes it is better than the alternative.  interaction with people drains me.  drama drains me.  love drains me.  most times it seems everyone wants something from me.. and i can only give so much.  and i never did like to say the word no.  i live in my head.. and in my head, people are always considerate of each other and dont ask too much because they understand.  in reality.. no one understands me.  and in reality.. i understand no one.  and that makes me feel so much more alone. 

every day i see smiling faces.  and i smile back.  i connect with each student i teach.. each parent who wants to share some insight.  it eases the pain of loneliness.  temporarily. 
they dont know me. 

when you have a talent that is great..  it alienates you.  renders you unapproachable.
partly because you put up a wall that is insurmountable.. for protection.

as a singer, i yearn to communicate.  through music i feel a communion with the audience..  an energy of one.  the loneliness is appeased.  temporarily.

i will die alone.  none of it matters.  i feel sick.  and though i am afraid of a lot of things that may seem absolutely ridiculous..  im not afraid of loneliness.  it is far too familiar.

Eric Whitacre's Virtual Choir

or.. slowed down to 60 minutes, what a trip


http://soundcloud.com/paulnasca/eric-whitacres-virtual-choir-2

{[ Speechless ]}

Happy.
Thoughtful.
Understanding.
Caring.
Loving.
Tenderness.
Wanting.
Admire.
Longing.

Complete ..Silence.

i was reading today..

E.H. Gombrich The Story of Art


High School
Textbook used for Art History class 1991

'What upset the public about Expressionist art was, perhaps, not so much the fact that nature had been distorted as that the result led away from beauty.  That the caricaturist may show up the ugliness of man was granted -- it was his job.  But that men who claimed to be serious artists should forget that if they must change the appearance of things they should idealize them rather than make them ugly was strongly resented.  But Munch might have retorted that a shout of anguish is not beautiful, and that it would be insincere to look only at the pleasing side of life.  For the Expressionists felt so strongly about human suffering, poverty, violence, and passion, that they were inclined to think that the insistence on harmony and beauty in art was only born out of the refusal to be honest...... The question whether we should call such work ugly or beautiful is as irrelevant here as it was in the case of Rembrandt, of Grunewald, or of those 'primitive' works which the Expressionists most admired.'

just found it.. interesting

A case of the eyes

She woke up in tears and rolled over to retch and cough.  Every time she thought of it she would grab her stomach and choke back the bile and the tears.  No matter where she put her head or her mind, within a few minutes the images would all come back to her and take another swipe at her sanity.

There he was exposing himself, careful to keep it shielded from the view of others.  This long snake hanging down outside his pants was for her eyes only.  It took her a while to realize that she was actually seeing what was there in front of her.  And how he looked over to the other patrons and back to her, the main thrill he was having was that they had no idea what he was doing.  He carefully placed himself behind the washing machines to stay out of their line of sight.  And the expectant look on his face...

Thinking about it 50 years later still made her grimace and shudder.  It had been dormant for a long time, but it had come back to worry her till she beat it back.  Like a snake found slithering in the grass, she lifted the memory up and walked it to the edge of her garden with her iron rake at arms length, and helped it over the fence.

It was gone.

I

I hold myself accountable
for every goddamn little minute thing I do
every action
today..
I dont regret
I dont question
but I have my eyes wide open

I communicate
I observe
I learn
I try

I live
I breathe
I respect
I love

I

any of you have a home remedy for overinflated ego?  I think I need a healthy dose.