A funny thing happens to introverts when they start spending too much time alone. They find that they are so good at keeping themselves company, that they slowly lose the desire to be social, and ultimately forget how to relate to others altogether. I began a great retreat inward at the end of my college career. I wasn't quite sure where to go to make friends at that time of my life, and eventually began losing the desire to make friends. I got fat. I got lazy. I had more fun with video games and movies alone in my room than I did with other people. This trend continued through my last years in State College, PA and throughout my year in Wilmington, NC. Having absolutely no money contributed to the trend. People always want to go out and spend money at clubs, restaurants and theaters. The 5 free rentals a week for working at Blockbuster were even more incentives to stay at home.
I thought I was a freak for experiencing this self-induced isolation. There's a chapter in 'Blue Like Jazz' where the author talks about a very similar scenario in his life. It's a pattern. It's something that happens to most introverts.
But an even stranger thing has been occurring since I've moved to L.A. I think for most of my time here, I've been overly social. I've been neglecting that self-reflective, quiet part of myself. I try to spend every waking moment I'm not at work with friends. Certainly, this has been healthier for me than the isolation was, but I've noticed at times I'm almost burnt-out by trying to be with people so often. People drain me. I like being 'drained' now on a regular basis, but I haven't taken much time getting 'charged up.' People have probably noticed that I'm tired all the time. People have probably noticed that I can't pay attention to what they're saying (I've always been ADD like that) because my head is spinning, making sure I'm not going to miss out on the next social event that's going to happen or that I don't miss that girl I want to talk to coming out of the theater. Like so many things in this fallen world, one negative trend replaced itself with an equal and opposite negative trend, when the ideal is obviously a balance. In the back of my head, I guess I think I'm just making up for lost time.
It's like the forest animals having plenty of food, so they reproduce a lot. Then the next generation is overpopulated and they eat their entire food supply, so most of them die of starvation -- but then, the food replenishes itself, and once again there are few animals with plenty of food.
I'm hoping I can find a balance this year -- a balance between time spent with guys and time spent with girls, a balance between time spent reading and time spent watching movies, a balance between hanging out with new people I don't usually hang out with and hanging out with good, close friends, a balance between surfing around on myspace, and well . . . doing anything other than surfing around on myspace . . .
I just wish there were a way to have a balance between working my ass off and relaxing a little more . . . maybe writing a nice blog from time to time . . . sleeping in once in a while during the week . . . playing more music . . . writing more music . . .
And so much potential alone time in L.A. is wasted in my glass and metal cage, sitting on the 101, breathing in nasty noxious smogginess. ( I am quite thankful for my glass and metal Subaru cage, but not for the amount of time I spend in it) . . .
Maybe I'll go buy some more good, positive music . . . or some books on CD for inspiration . . .
I thought I was a freak for experiencing this self-induced isolation. There's a chapter in 'Blue Like Jazz' where the author talks about a very similar scenario in his life. It's a pattern. It's something that happens to most introverts.
But an even stranger thing has been occurring since I've moved to L.A. I think for most of my time here, I've been overly social. I've been neglecting that self-reflective, quiet part of myself. I try to spend every waking moment I'm not at work with friends. Certainly, this has been healthier for me than the isolation was, but I've noticed at times I'm almost burnt-out by trying to be with people so often. People drain me. I like being 'drained' now on a regular basis, but I haven't taken much time getting 'charged up.' People have probably noticed that I'm tired all the time. People have probably noticed that I can't pay attention to what they're saying (I've always been ADD like that) because my head is spinning, making sure I'm not going to miss out on the next social event that's going to happen or that I don't miss that girl I want to talk to coming out of the theater. Like so many things in this fallen world, one negative trend replaced itself with an equal and opposite negative trend, when the ideal is obviously a balance. In the back of my head, I guess I think I'm just making up for lost time.
It's like the forest animals having plenty of food, so they reproduce a lot. Then the next generation is overpopulated and they eat their entire food supply, so most of them die of starvation -- but then, the food replenishes itself, and once again there are few animals with plenty of food.
I'm hoping I can find a balance this year -- a balance between time spent with guys and time spent with girls, a balance between time spent reading and time spent watching movies, a balance between hanging out with new people I don't usually hang out with and hanging out with good, close friends, a balance between surfing around on myspace, and well . . . doing anything other than surfing around on myspace . . .
I just wish there were a way to have a balance between working my ass off and relaxing a little more . . . maybe writing a nice blog from time to time . . . sleeping in once in a while during the week . . . playing more music . . . writing more music . . .
And so much potential alone time in L.A. is wasted in my glass and metal cage, sitting on the 101, breathing in nasty noxious smogginess. ( I am quite thankful for my glass and metal Subaru cage, but not for the amount of time I spend in it) . . .
Maybe I'll go buy some more good, positive music . . . or some books on CD for inspiration . . .
