alone time - mentally and socially - always results in me doing things i’d never do.
like, reading a book.
and it is when i do things i never do (like, reading), that i experience new things.
i have discovered what it is like to lay in bed all day, reading about someone’s miseries and despairs, and i have begun to understand why people get lost in books.
right now, i should really go work out, but instead, by engaging in an activity foreign to me, i have stirred up emotions, foreign to me. and here i am soaking in the alien-ness, trying to understand what i should do next.
i have never felt like this before. it is a feeling similar to the giddiness that emanates from after watching a chick flick.
but of a different species.
it is much more introspective.
once you’ve disconnected yourself from society, it is easy to get lost in your own world. it’s no wonder bronte, austen, poe, were able to keep themselves locked up in a room, writing away, for days at a time.
there is something so surreal, yet so real about all this.