Blog and other works of literary sense
|Loner or being Solitary
I seem to be more of a loner. I haven’t made many friends. I value friends but there have been too many times when I had to leave these friends behind. They either left or I left. I grew up having few friends. But my childhood years have been erased from my memory and replaced with new memories that had a different culture. I had this memory of playing with my dolls around me on the bed and I was conducting a pretend class or having tea with these dolls. I went to this programmed scenario of a series of scenes of being in a school and so I am rather doubtful about my first few years of life.
In high school I would go to the library after classes and sit with a group of classmates. They all were fun to be with but we did our homework and kept our mouths shut. Once in a while we’d erupt into laughter and the librarian would come to tell us to be quiet. I did have a best friend who was a refugee from Cuba. She and I would attend Filipino parties where my stepparents enjoyed with their circle of friends. I never had a boyfriend in high school. I didn’t spend sleep overs with classmates. I got the idea that wasn’t something that my stepparents wanted. I didn’t care. I spoke on the phone with my best friend often.
I lost track of my best friend in my graduate school. I had other friends who were my coworkers and they would be more of my stepmother’s age. They’d hold parties and other celebrations. They had children I got to know and yet we never really spent too much time together. There was a person who I went to high school with and she and I never did much but I remember times that she would take me to her rich home. I haven’t seen her in years. At one point we were facebook friends. She tried to encourage me to attend the high school reunion but it was too much to think of. I don’t know who are still around and I am not too eager to go and see these people again.
I have learned to enter a restaurant and sit alone and eat my lunch without feeling somewhat unhappy. I don’t mind eating alone, really. Sometimes I look at my cell phone and see what’s what. Or bring a book to read.
I am happier going shopping on my own. It’s a bore to be with a person who keeps looking and looking through racks of clothes and never really wanting anything to buy. And it’s a bore to be with other women who I knew at Purdue who also went and did the same thing, looking at things on display. Shopping was taken out of my list of enjoyments after I went and became a patient at the Yale New Haven hospital. I couldn’t stand hanging about and I couldn’t appreciate looking at clothes on the rack. Trying them on was another awful experience. I decided some stores aren’t that good so I decided to stop shopping at the mall.
If I ever went to the mall, I’d go to the bookstore and sit and have a coffee or pastry while doing my reading or working on my laptop. But that’s become a hazard. The bookstore in Lafayette is dangerous to me. Bad Elohim have parked themselves there and made me suffer and die. I never have gone back to that bookstore.