Thursday, November 19, 2009

"hope is a dangerous thing" Shawshank

I feel an unfortunately large amount of alone tonight. I have been “alone” for a month or so now. At first it was such a change from being in officer school where I was packed in very small space for 5 weeks and ate, slept, shit and shared about everything with a group of people. Its different here. Here, there is a big insulation layer between me and others.

I sit on my porch and drink my gin and watch, I watch as the world spins by me. But part of me does not want to be here. It’s the first time since arriving that I have really felt it. It’s a geographic isolation. I feel alone.

Perhaps I have just been running at full speed and not noticing much else. I am sure that it will pass, that I will sleep tonight and that it will all be better in the morning. That’s the beauty of me. I have been in some crappy places, but life just seems better in the morning.

Perhaps it is the tease of making contact with people, yet not really connecting with them. I guard my “electronic” connections because it feels like that is such an important thing, but in truth perhaps that is a cause. It gives me a false sense of being near people. I crave the contact of my herd that I left back in the states. It just hit me today that I don’t get to see them. That this is truly a level of isolation. It’s a lot of talk, but I wont be back in the states for a very long time. None of them are coming here. I kept thinking that I would see them again and soon. But not so. Its dangerous to hope too much. But how do you balance the hopes of daily life with living life with hope of greater things? I don’t want to just sit here and “hope” that I get a good breakfast tomorrow. I want to hope big, but the big hope hurts when you don’t get it. How do I hope big, but hope realistic? There must be a balance in the mix.

Life is just one day at a time.


EC said...

Just don't be carving "Matt was here" anywhere.

My golf game will be ready upon your return.