The Secret Warmth of Solitude

The opening topic that I'm touching on extraordinarily briefly today is true love.

(The groan of everyone who read that is entirely well-earned)

After many years of searching, I've determined that my one true love is none other then my Macbook Pro.
Seriously.
I fucking adore this thing.



I mean, how could someone not love it? I don't think it's possible to feel anything other then fond awe, admiration and respect towards such a majestic item. Which is why I don't get why people seem so surprised by my willingness to simply sit in bed all day with it, and not come out and probably not speak.

The internet truly is a beautiful, wonderful place. It's expanded far past it's creator's original expectations, and become something of it's own. It's a social and informative web stretching over the entire globe, and I thank every lucky star in the sky for it. It sounds depressingly pathetic and, frankly, quite like a hikikomori, but I'd probably be content with just staying in my room with my macbook forever. Screw those life experiences so many people attempt to have. Screw scaling the Himalayas, or sky-diving in Hawaii, or seeing Machu Picchu. It's humanly impossible to experience all the things people want to in our short life time, so honestly- why bother?

You don't need to tell me how contemptible the above sentence is.
I already know full well.


But really, I wouldn't mind. There's music, art, literature, architecture, history, information, cuisine, whole unseen universes simply lying in wait- there's all of that (and more!) on the internet. In a way, it's similar to a library.
I kind of like to think of it like that. The world-wide library. Doesn't that sound like a lovely place to live? Tucked between the books in a library that spans the entirety of the planet. You can pity me all you want, frown sympathetically for the bird who cages themselves, but I'll just laugh at you from behind my bars. Call me a fool, or call me oblivious, and I'll think the same of you.

Everything is better on the internet.



You see, I don't want to experience love.
I don't want to see the world.
I don't want to watch the sun rise in Hong Kong, or the moon shine in LA.
I don't want to "live the dream".

I just want some books.
And a typewriter.
And a laptop.
And maybe a hedgehog?
I want it to rain.
I want it to snow.
I want to curl up with a book and a mug of hot chocolate on a blustery, overcast day.
I want to be alone.

Can't I just be alone?