“Nowhere can man find a quieter or more untroubled retreat than in his own soul. ~Marcus Aurelius”
It’s early morning once again, and I mean EARLY! Everything seems still, almost lifeless at this time of night with the only sounds heard being that of the server’s own fans humming along with the one next to my head. The world ceases to exist as a busy place with sounds of cars going by or people walking around. The world, at least around myself, is no longer there as it exists in daylight. I am surrounded again by my old companion, silence.
I’ve no stead-fast idea or reasoning for being up at this abnormal hour other than the fact that I am. There’s also been near total silence for the last few hours as well, though mostly from lack of interest in watching shows or listening to music. Rather, I have been catching up with silence, letting my mind wander as it may. These are surely the times when children would be complaining of their boredom and lack of stimulation, when in fact they have yet to learn the inner self is far from either.
I tend to spend much of my time “living inside my head”, as I’ve heard it referred to, just thinking of everything and anything. My imagination is far from limited in it’s own abilities, but rather experiences things at a different pace. I’ve held entire conversations at times, having played out all possible scenarios as a way to avoid confrontational engagements. I find that they sometimes turn into an almost infinite loop of repetition otherwise. It also happens to be relaxing and freeing from the busy world.
I’ve been called a loner, a quiet man and a few times, “that guy that will snap at random”. I instead find it to be less annoying than the reality of constantly needing to be in the know and those are the times where the stereotypes come into play most often. I don’t need to have a constant barrage of things going on around me, but prefer to just be. I can sit alone at a table in a room full of others and just let my imagination take flight. I often did so between classes while attending college, having written a vast array of things or drawn intricate sketches despite the busy atmosphere surrounding me.
The friendly companion of silence is with me and my imagination still flows without restriction. And that restriction-less flowing leads once again to an age old conundrum; too many ideas floating around, and all too quickly blending into nonsensical wonderment. Perhaps I’ll make some sense of them as I dream, building upon the mess; the chaos, a foundation, inspiration. ‘Tis funny what lack of sleep does to ones imagination, or is it sanity?
“Inside myself is a place where I live all alone, and that’s where I renew my springs that never dry up. ~Pearl Buck”