When every day feels like Friday, the toll to one's body adds up. Going through the motions when there are no motions to recite becomes mind-numbing. The minutes tick past, unnoticed. Something jars me back but there is nothing but silence around me. An errant thought, perhaps, slipping past my subconscious mind? A look around and nothing has changed. Just the passing of time. How much time has passed? Time is irrelevant.
Aching for my laserdiscs, I instead stay up late watching entire movies in segmented parts on YouTube. All the reasons for having purchased laserdiscs in the first place mock me as I sit at the computer screen watching a 320x240 pixelized rendition of poor sound and video. What pride that leeches away from me I attempt to restore with wine. Its a poor substitute.
While most of what I know comes to a grinding halt for the holidays and those who do what they do during this awkward juxtaposition of false introspection and commercialization, I become detached, removed. Even moreso than normal. For one who's already accused of being an emotionless robot these aspects are magnified to the point of distortion. My impassiveness is my trademark; stolid in my dealings. Those who attempt to sway me with their joviality are the ones who end up getting hurt the most. Not because I lash out, due rather to my inability to be persuaded.
I will seek solace down all the familiar avenues, but my contemporaries will have also disappeared, having been sucked into the almost inescapable vortex of holiday cheer. In an attempt to mollify those who may be taken aback by my ingenuousness, understand this: In no way whatsoever is this post a cry for help. On the contrary, my introversion requires this time for renewal after languishing during the end of the past year. I celebrate my aversion to mobs of ambulatory meat to the same degree you people embrace it and I gain strength during this period of exile.