So I've isolated myself here in my room, trying to get some packing done. I need to clean up this place so that when the movers come Thursday they can just take the big stuff and the rest will be in boxes. Frightening.
But that's not what this is about. It's about how packing's not happening. I just finished reading the incredible Gaiman novel, American Gods
, and it kind of has me in this odd frame of mind.
I'm sitting here feeling powerless. I've isolated myself, zephyr is mostly quiet, the house is being quiet as people are downstairs watching TV or whatever it is they do when they're not packing their rooms... And I have no audience. It's like, if no one is looking at me, am I really here?
Good thing for LiveJournal.
Make me wonder how much of this factors into others' lives... Obviously it must be variable, since there are hermits and the like out there (or so we believe; after all, is it even possible for us to have heard the true tale of a successful hermit?)( Collapse )