If I could...

If it were possible I might completely retreat from the social world and as a result lose all contact with it. Would there be a sense of loss if I did? Maybe, but not a very strong one.
I do feel that I might be missing something when I don’t reach out to my friends quite as often as I sense might be…expected of me, or maybe rather the custom for other ”normal” people. Seeing a friend once or twice a year, if that, texting each other maybe half a dozen times during the same time, if that, seems…unusual compaired to most other friend relationships I see around me in real life, books, films and more. Not unusual in my family though. Or at least ¾ of it…

I don’t think that I would miss out on any important events, really, but I might be left depraved of important impressions and new insights, different perspectivs of things that might be good for me to have. Otherwise I only feel a slight annoyance that it's not actually something I can do without heavy consequences, you know, materially. But the first consequence that comes to mind though is social; not because it's of great concern to me but something I got the impression that itshould be. It's an old habbit to make other peoples concerns my own in a way to conceal the fact that I don't have the same prioreties which makes me different and strange. Sometimes I think I lack the very urge or need for social interactions because even if I think of most of my friends almost every day I don’t actually miss their company every day. This doesn’t mean that I don’t care or wish to see them more often because I do, it’s just that…I can easely entertain myself and just assume that others do too and are happily buissy elsewhere. I understand that this isn’t necessarily true to all my friends, that I should probably let them know that I think of them and care for them since some might need that acknowledgment. I sometimes fear that some of them might think that I don’t care unless I text or send postcards for Christmas. But I don’t know how to do that without attracting too much attention to myself…

Does that even make sense? But the truth is that even if I didn’t have any friends at all I’d probably be quite content with my life anyway (unless I gave too much thought on what is the common view of a friendless person). Now that I have friends I do appreaciate them, even if I’m not sure how to show it, and I truly miss and grieve some of those I’ve lost contact with.
But if I could I would totally get myself a small house in the middle of no-where, live there with cats and dogs and maybe some other animals but otherwise all alone, or perhaps with someone equally reclusive, and not see or talk to other people unless I have to. If I could I would not have a job where I had to interact with other people. I’d sit in my little house, on the porch overlooking the river or the lake (or just the forest surrounding me) and I’d spend all my time with my own thoughts and fantasies, giving some of them eternal life (or as close as can be) by writing them down for others to read. Like a hermit, having too much to deal with in the universes (yes, plural) inside my own head to be bothered with the single universe in the so called real world.
Of course people would be welcome to visit and I’d like invitations from time to time, but mostly I would prefer my own company or that of a chosen partner.

Now, as things are, to live the way I want I need money, and money comes from work and work don’t come easy. Sometimes one can’t even choose what to work with but luckily, by chance, I’ve ended up with a job I really like doing and will do my best to keep. It is rather social though but in a way that doesn’t bother me, rather the opposite. This kind of job requiers full attention and focus on the people I’m there for which makes it almost impossible to go deep diving into my own world/s and myself. I’ve actually found that this kind of focus shifting and brake from myself is needed in order to make me better at my true job, which is the writing. Now I focus better on it and have a stronger sense of seriousness, like I’m actually doing something real here and it can’t be taken lightly, and I find that the words and the flow come easier. So maybe, even if I'd want to spend all my time all alone with my writing, perhaps I might need something else too for reloading and refreshing my own mind. Though in the future I might not have to spend as much time with a ”real” job as I do now because hopefully I’ll have a better economy that allowes me to decide such things for myself with no worries for rents and foods and other boring stuff.

But, going back to reality, here I am with a socially, physically, psychologically and a pedagogically craving ”real” job needing my full attention and constant personal development in all these areas and more to do a good job (I believe this to be true for my writing as well)- and I love it. It doesn’t feel like going to work when I go out to do the things I get payed to do, because it’s right in line with the things I spontaniously did for other people allready in kindergarden. I could do this for free because it’s fun and rewarding in so many other ways than fiscal. But as someone said (The Joker in The dark knight)”if you’re good at something, never do it for free…”. Unless I had all the money I could possibly need, of course. The only downside is that I don’t want to live this far from my family. And my current job that I hope to keep for a long time is right here. So the question is; should I settle here? Take a loan, by my self a house/cottage and stay? It feels…awkward. My dream has always been to take over the family house and fix it up. I don’t want to have two houses that needs maintaining…on the other hand, I wouldn’t mind having my own places to live in all over the world, so why not have a small cottage here to live in when I work and when I’m off duty have my proper home elsewhere? I could even fancy buying/renting a really nice flat in a pleassant neighbourhood not too far from my job and have that proper house and home back up north. But for me to survive in a flat would probably requier someone likeminded to share it with. That way I could possibly ignore the feeling of being trapped like a wild animal in a small cage, crowded by infuriating little human beings I’m tempted to just bite the heads off of and put them on my livingroom wall…if the flat contained something more worthy of my attention than what’s outside my window, on top of me, beside me and beneath me it might work out. After all, a flat never run out of hot water…I could totally live with that.