Sequestered

I recently turned 17. With the number, came numerous realisations, numerous truths.  The most prominent one being: I am 17. Only 17. Contrary to what I feel most of the time,  I have so much to live for, to discover, to stumble upon. So much that I need to find about myself, my views on things, my approach. My values. The piece is a part of one of these realisations, written deludedly during a 2am study break. It is an attempt to convey how much I value solitude, and at the same time the desperation to break through the barrier it creates, if not handled correctly.

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It is said that  there is a fine line between being alone and loneliness.  One is filled with self-content, whereas the other a stark, constant reminder of the lack thereof. The former implies that your company is sought after only if I value it greater than mine own, the latter encompasses your absence, various yous which includes myself and the way I cannot connect with you.  I have grappled with the feeling for as long as I can remember, and often cross the line between the two, regularly mistaking one for the other.

It is not that there is a lack of people to gape it, to have a good laugh with and drown my sorrows with. To create lanes filled with memories to be visited years past during teary reunions. No, it is  the missing string that connects me with myself.  The guide that helps me get by; the lack of whom casts this blurry haze, this slump in my mind making me lose touch with my reality.

The reason I so desperately want to connect with those around me, but can't. How can I, when I haven't done so first and foremost with myself.

If you delete the pesky thoughts, the experiences, the collection of memories, the whiny heart with its emotions and urges, you erase the human you are today, along with most of the world you live in. It owes its disappearance to all that is objective in this world being borne out of the human mind, out of our thoughts, imagination. Even God himself, or atleast the idea of him created by  mankind to be worshipped and feared for eons to come.

After all this is gone, what am i? nothing. Not my puny ego, my self-centred desires. Not my 3 am ideas, my larger than life expectations.

 All that is erased, and i am reduced to solely what the earth made me into, and what i can give back to it.

This answer to me is not enough. It is both scary and liberating to tackle, I am growing quite fond of loneliness.  Many discoveries take place during this time, things I did not realise about myself.  The promises I made to me long ago swim up to the surface again, the things I vowed to leave behind. The lick of flame that is curiosity, diminishing as I grow older, asking the big questions and fuelling this ever powerful urge to conquer everything. The horror of how quickly time passes.

All that being said, in the end I suppose I simply want to let myself blur this line, this line between being alone and lonely. Colour outside the lines and make it as blurry as possible, to eviscerate and improve myself. To  be the version I always aspire and envy, this distant seeming dream with all her flaws and divine.

To Then finally lend myself and connect to the world around, give back more than I take, to put an end to this delusion. Attach the string that connects me with myself, to realise that I am nothing, no one, and so isn't anybody.  Although We are constantly surrounded with people and what they offer, we  travel through this whole ordeal that is life in our own singular, 'lonely' way.

And to embrace this state of solitude, is the most wonderful thing of all.

By Ishani Manvi

From: India

Website: https://alwitlessramblingsofaneverydayteen.wordpress.com/2022/09/22/herbal-lemon-earl-grey/

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