Live together, die alone?
I've come to the realization lately that I really enjoy being alone. I think it runs in the family. When I was a kid, we would take numerous weekend trips to our country house, or to visit grandparents, or something else along those lines. And quite often, my sister opted not to go with the rest of the family. She'd just stay home and read, or hang out by herself for a few days at a time. I remember always thinking that she was quite weird for that (probably because my parents made such remarks). But I'm kind of starting to understand it.
Talking to my friend the other day, we got onto the subject of being happy when you are just hanging out by yourself, and how important we both thought it was. And after thinking about it, I really enjoy life when I'm by myself. I love taking random drives to nowhere alone. And these past few months, I've come to walking aimlessly for an hour through the neighborhoods around my apartment complex a couple nights a week. I usually go around 2 AM, when it's really quiet and there's literally nobody around. I guess it has kind of replaced driving by myself, but they are both different.
I guess the whole thing ties together into liking watching simple things in life. Like, observing people and objects without interacting with them. This is probably why I like traveling - not just seeing places, but the act of traveling itself, sitting around at airports, listening to people's conversations, observing families go through mundane tasks at the airport like ordering food, going to the bathroom in groups, watching over the luggage. I guess I never thought about it, and would probably not admit it out loud, but I'm really interested in this kind of stuff. People watching. Same thing with watching different people's houses when I walk around, and what kind of car they got and estimating whether they put a lot of emphasis on having a nicer house or a nicer car. Watching who's awake at 3 AM, and coming up with stories of what kind of life they got. It's like I try to find a window into people's lives (almost literally, heh) and then let my mind try to complete them.
Let's take a case study: the people who used to live here before I moved in. Now, I found this apartment I live in now on craigslist. It was put up by a couple in their 20s, who wanted to move out in the middle of january. The guy was a music grad student at UM or something. The way they phrased their reasoning for moving out, was because she was moving back to Chicago, where they were both from, and him not needing the whole apartment, and wanting to save money by moving in with a friend. They seemed pretty friendly towards each other when I came over, there were pictures of them together around the apartment, and they had 1 queen bed. Obviously a couple. I do remember noticing tension of some sort from exchanging e-mails with the guy, and talking on the phone with him, because the girlfriend wasn't around for most of the time between when I found the apartment until when they moved out (around a month). And they were also subleasing it, meaning that while their lease expired in the summer, they just couldn't wait the extra few months, and needed to move out right then and there. I always found this weird - I mean, the apartment is not that big, I barely have enough room here for myself. I guess if you are really desperate for money, I can understand but the rent wasn't even that high. This dude might have been saving like $250 a month or something? + the hassle of moving?
So then, throughout the year, I've been getting these letters from a doctor in this girl's name. Now, being the curious monkey that I am, after the customary 6-month period of letting this dude know I have mail for him, I started either throwing it away, or opening it. I guess what brings me to this subject is that I just opened one, and it's a notice that since they haven't paid their bill in over a year (probably because they didn't get it, because it came here), it's being forwarded to a collection agency. It's a doctor bill for this girl, for a vaginal ultrasound. Something that's performed (from googling), if you are pregnant or think you have ovarian cancer. Obviously the former suits my daydreaming way better. It says the date of the test is like a couple of days before they put up the apartment on craigslist. I've also just googled this guy's myspace and it says he's single (although it also has his sex as female :/). And this is the kind of stuff I sit here and think about and make up these elaborate stories from the limited information I have. About what possibly could have happened, despite never knowing. I like to think it went like this: Dude knocks up girl. Girl finds out. Freaks out. Leaves to go back to Chicago for a month, tells dude to take care of apartment, and that they are moving apart. Dude finds me, they separate, and then the possibilities are endless. This is the kind of shit I think about on and off for hours. For all kinds of people. I make up theories of lives these people lead and what happened to them in the past based on their appearance, the way they said something, their car, what have you. I'm never really bored. I'll just lay there at night and imagine what kind of conversations they must have had when they found out she was pregnant. If one of them had to sleep on the futon I sold for $30. If they knew the people that live upstairs, and what kind of relationship they had. It's like imagining a movie, rather than watching one.
I reread some of what I've written, and it has come off as if I'm a person that prefers to sit at home and potentially stalk people. This isn't true. I like being around other people just as much. I like talking to people, and finding out what their actual lives are like. However, when this is not a possibility, mostly because I don't know them, and never will, I automatically make up what their lives are like. I guess the point is that I'm quite amused just watching boring everyday life around me sometimes.
Talking to my friend the other day, we got onto the subject of being happy when you are just hanging out by yourself, and how important we both thought it was. And after thinking about it, I really enjoy life when I'm by myself. I love taking random drives to nowhere alone. And these past few months, I've come to walking aimlessly for an hour through the neighborhoods around my apartment complex a couple nights a week. I usually go around 2 AM, when it's really quiet and there's literally nobody around. I guess it has kind of replaced driving by myself, but they are both different.
I guess the whole thing ties together into liking watching simple things in life. Like, observing people and objects without interacting with them. This is probably why I like traveling - not just seeing places, but the act of traveling itself, sitting around at airports, listening to people's conversations, observing families go through mundane tasks at the airport like ordering food, going to the bathroom in groups, watching over the luggage. I guess I never thought about it, and would probably not admit it out loud, but I'm really interested in this kind of stuff. People watching. Same thing with watching different people's houses when I walk around, and what kind of car they got and estimating whether they put a lot of emphasis on having a nicer house or a nicer car. Watching who's awake at 3 AM, and coming up with stories of what kind of life they got. It's like I try to find a window into people's lives (almost literally, heh) and then let my mind try to complete them.
Let's take a case study: the people who used to live here before I moved in. Now, I found this apartment I live in now on craigslist. It was put up by a couple in their 20s, who wanted to move out in the middle of january. The guy was a music grad student at UM or something. The way they phrased their reasoning for moving out, was because she was moving back to Chicago, where they were both from, and him not needing the whole apartment, and wanting to save money by moving in with a friend. They seemed pretty friendly towards each other when I came over, there were pictures of them together around the apartment, and they had 1 queen bed. Obviously a couple. I do remember noticing tension of some sort from exchanging e-mails with the guy, and talking on the phone with him, because the girlfriend wasn't around for most of the time between when I found the apartment until when they moved out (around a month). And they were also subleasing it, meaning that while their lease expired in the summer, they just couldn't wait the extra few months, and needed to move out right then and there. I always found this weird - I mean, the apartment is not that big, I barely have enough room here for myself. I guess if you are really desperate for money, I can understand but the rent wasn't even that high. This dude might have been saving like $250 a month or something? + the hassle of moving?
So then, throughout the year, I've been getting these letters from a doctor in this girl's name. Now, being the curious monkey that I am, after the customary 6-month period of letting this dude know I have mail for him, I started either throwing it away, or opening it. I guess what brings me to this subject is that I just opened one, and it's a notice that since they haven't paid their bill in over a year (probably because they didn't get it, because it came here), it's being forwarded to a collection agency. It's a doctor bill for this girl, for a vaginal ultrasound. Something that's performed (from googling), if you are pregnant or think you have ovarian cancer. Obviously the former suits my daydreaming way better. It says the date of the test is like a couple of days before they put up the apartment on craigslist. I've also just googled this guy's myspace and it says he's single (although it also has his sex as female :/). And this is the kind of stuff I sit here and think about and make up these elaborate stories from the limited information I have. About what possibly could have happened, despite never knowing. I like to think it went like this: Dude knocks up girl. Girl finds out. Freaks out. Leaves to go back to Chicago for a month, tells dude to take care of apartment, and that they are moving apart. Dude finds me, they separate, and then the possibilities are endless. This is the kind of shit I think about on and off for hours. For all kinds of people. I make up theories of lives these people lead and what happened to them in the past based on their appearance, the way they said something, their car, what have you. I'm never really bored. I'll just lay there at night and imagine what kind of conversations they must have had when they found out she was pregnant. If one of them had to sleep on the futon I sold for $30. If they knew the people that live upstairs, and what kind of relationship they had. It's like imagining a movie, rather than watching one.
I reread some of what I've written, and it has come off as if I'm a person that prefers to sit at home and potentially stalk people. This isn't true. I like being around other people just as much. I like talking to people, and finding out what their actual lives are like. However, when this is not a possibility, mostly because I don't know them, and never will, I automatically make up what their lives are like. I guess the point is that I'm quite amused just watching boring everyday life around me sometimes.