As a writer, as a poet, as a person, today…it is increasingly more difficult to be alone. It often makes me wonder, is this science, technology or self imposed?
Are we intentionally avoiding ‘ourselves’? It is easy enough to do.
Therefore, I choose, Saturday late mornings as, ME, time. I have to…or else. Or else, all truth that I seek surely is not real. The most truthful place any of us can be…The best position we can have against crimes of self?
Alone time. Nothing but, me, myself and I!
“In fact, we have developed a phobia of being alone; we prefer the most trivial and even obnoxious company, the most meaningless activities, to being alone with ourselves; we seem to be frightened at the prospect of facing ourselves. Is it because we feel we would be such bad company?
I think the fear of being alone with ourselves is rather a feeling of embarrassment, bordering sometimes on terror at seeing a person at once so well known and so strange; we are afraid and run away.”