A Musing II

March 31, 2011
By Noshabora GOLD, St. Cloud, Florida
Noshabora GOLD, St. Cloud, Florida
17 articles 78 photos 107 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Poetry and art are when you take decades of thought and condense it into a nifty little portable carrying case that people can see and go 'Oooh, Ahh'... and then forget about it. But what does it matter, so long as YOU remember it?" ~ Bela


So as of this very moment, I sit typing away at the lousiest excuse for a computer ever to be known, located so aptly in the commuter lounge of the college I attend. And As I dwell on not only this, but whatever other nonsense might be floating through my mind, I thought I'd be so kind (or rude, your choice) as to relate it to you.
I sometimes wonder whether it be worthwhile to meet people. To even KNOW people. They all expect so much of you; they expect that you should call, that you should write, that you should visit. They expect that you be agreeable and amiable, and are upset when we leave them to their own devices for too long. I do not intend to sound as though I were lazy or that it would be too much effort to bother. I only mean that might my time be better spent elsewhere? There are only so many hours in a day and I often seem to have trouble juggling many acquaintances, work, education, and those small goals which I charge to myself.
I find myself ignoring the phonecalls coming in, in favor of solitude. And when I do speak to people, I find myself unable to put on the happy smile they expect, and I expose myself to be a cynic, undissuaded but to speak my own opinions and thoughts, no matter whom they might offend. And so I land in much trouble, and end up lost more still, if such a thing is able.
There are those select few of course whom I can be near or speak with and yet not confuse myself. Indeed, their company might even be wished as a personal goal. I enjoy it, look forward to it, and treat it with the utmost reverence. But these individuals are few. I suppose I've decided that I am no conversationalist. I am no social butterfly, and I am predisposed to remain isolated. I have no use for the idle or passing acquaintanceships of the random masses. I am content with the lot I've thrown in with, as small as it may be, and not to venture from it. I feel that I do not waste my time.

The author's comments:
Once again, just as the first "A Musing", this is NOT an essay. But sadly, there is no section to post this in that fits. It is an evaluation of my own thoughts, take it as you will.

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