Silence of the Laptop

You know it is wonky when I start to write in such a hurried manner at this time of the night on a week day evening.

``Drained'' probably doesn't quite start to explain the general affect that I am feeling these days. Over the past two to three weeks, I have started on an isolationist quest of sorts, removing myself steadily away from most of the semi-coerced social interactions. It is quite an interesting experiment, really. In the beginning, there was the entire feeling of discomfort, as though I had removed a large part of where my energies come from. But as time went by, I slowly cultivated that introvertedness within me that has been in hiding for a long while as I acted out the life that I was supposed to be leading, what with the whole extraversion nonsense.

Yet in the last three weeks or so, I've started to comprehend a new form of peace and quiet of the mind, where all I think of are work, geocaching, grad school and Aikido. The old distractions that seemed to plague me from the past seems to be rather subdued internally, and from that springs forth a new resolve that powers the introversion within.

Don't get me wrong, I've not really converted into a completely introverted character---that is just too impossible because I'm not some one dimensional person. What has really happened is that I have finally begun creating that bit of space for myself where I can start to actually calm down and examine cause and effect safe from the prying eyes and minds of the outsiders. While not as strong as the voices in my head before, there is at least a cognizance of what truly lies within my psyche from the perspective of my conscious mind.

It's a hard phenomenon to explain, really, partly because I lack the necessary processes and vocabulary to explain it. But the key aspect of it all is the restful nature that I'm feeling. Yes, I may be working longer hours than before, having reduced the ``lunch hour'' into something that is no longer than twenty minutes, but I seem to feel a little less stressed out, now that I have a little more control over myself.

Once upon a time, I used to not care too much about what others thought. Then I was taught to ``socialise'' and be more aware of the emotions of others. And now, having seen what kind of nonsense I had to put up with using that attitude, I have moderated that to something that is a little more cold than before, yet without a complete alienation of the people---they can still talk to me, but only if it is related to something that is required.

I think I'm finally starting to understand the concept of keeping my mouth shut, and speaking only when necessary.

Holding one's tongue takes discipline, the discipline to realise that there is no need to comment on everything that people say, the discipline to realise that there is no need to share knowledge that is not solicited, the discipline to realise that people are always, by nature, manipulative. But like many things in life, it starts off being hard, and as time progresses, becomes unexpectedly easier. And in this regard, being a weirdo does have its advantages after all.

Till next time.