Longing for Solitude

Credits to: wallpaperskd.com

“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd – The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”
― Fernando Pessoa

This quote sums up everything that I feel about life. I don’t know where the feeling of restlessness came from. It’s like reaching for something that I know I can never have, and so I resort to dreaming about it until the emptiness is too much. I can’t put a name into it no matter how hard I search my sluggish brain.

For someone who loves to pick everything apart and analyze each sordid detail, it sure is a dumb thing to say.

But really, when it comes to the things that really matter, I f*ck up. I am always sure about what I don’t want, but knowing what I want is like looking for a needle in a puddle of mud.

To skip the murky waters of the train of my thoughts, I only need to let you know that I feel awful. I haven’t been myself for the last two months.

I haven’t really talked to Harry for ages. I haven’t read a single book. I haven’t written anything worthy. I’m always not in the mood to explore my ideas and communicate them into paper.

I’m looking for solitude. I need an escape route, somewhere that I can be alone with my thoughts. Back at home, I always have the option to go by the river bank and watch the sunset. It never failed to make me feel better. Anytime, I can simply look up at the night sky and gaze at the winking stars. It’s magical and liberating.

But right now, I’m stuck inside our room. The city lights obscure the shimmering sky from my view. I cannot find solace in the traffic noise from the busy streets. I cannot breathe in the gentle breeze and savour the sound of crickets and rustling bushes.

I have the ridiculous urge of retreating into the wilderness and never looking back at society. I’d love to be a hermit.

Maybe someday, I’ll find a nice place on earth, dig a hole in the ground and build my very own haven.  I won’t have to think about the intricate and tedious need in life apart from food for the stomach, food for thought and food for soul. I will have nature as my company.

Harry: Enough of your dramas, Mitch. Sometimes, you can really be pathetic. Go back to your little world and the comfort of your imagination. I’ll see you there.

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