"Maybe down in Lonesome Town I can learn to forget."

Imbedded in the heart of every man is the quiet fear of being alone. How to cope with that fear is a question that we all answer differently. Some would choose flight and constant company, while others stand their ground and confront the solitude. Sometimes you have to generalize when you’re playing the part of pretentious writer.

Anyway, in my case, I believe I stand somewhere ambiguously in the middle, although I probably lean a little further to the “brave,” loner side of things. I’d like to think of myself as a gregarious hermit. Although I’m usually most content to be left alone with my own thoughts, if you come at me with reasonably un-irritating banter, then I’ll smile in recognition and continue the conversation–but only if I’m in the mood. “What a bitchy diva,” some would say. I prefer the title “moody loner,” thank you very much.

I often wonder what other people think about my antisocial moods. Back when I was lifting boxes all day at Mervyn’s, my coworkers would comment on how quiet I could sometimes be. “What’s wrong?” they’d ask me. But it had nothing to do with good feelings, bad moods, or anything “wrong.” Sometimes you just want the entire day to yourself, but you can’t afford to spend all of that time at home. Then there are times at school when I’m feeling less-than-social, and I coast along while deftly avoiding all opportunities for conversation. When you’re stressed out over your course load, the last thing you want to hear is how on top of it your classmates are. And then there are moments when I’m chilling at Carlos’ place with the whole group, and I feel the need to step outside and think. What magical revelation I’m hoping to dream up while I’m outside is beyond my imagination. As self-aware as I’d like to claim to be, even I have a hard time figuring out my motivations at times. I can only imagine what others might think.

Maybe what I fear most is that I’m more of a bitchy diva than a sensitive artist. Perhaps that’s why I’m so curious about what others think about me. Then again, I’m probably not giving myself enough credit. I’ll need some time to think this one through. If you need me, I’ll be sulking in the corner and pretending not to hear you.