Electricity and Autophobia (04-02-2008)

As per my usual caveat, I caution the reader that due to a lack of skill, style and patience, my philosophical ramblings are typically stream-of-counsciousness and of little or no value to the poor souls who masochistically read on.

You're still reading? Alright, I tried...

Once again I find myself compelled to write in the early hours of a new day rather than visiting Wonderland. Unfortunately if i do not expel my thoughts in one manner or another, I rarely sleep and the cheshire cat is left without a victim to torment. I fear I've been blessed and cursed with an over active imagination, perpetually spurred on by caffeine addiction.

January has already come and gone, a month of many beginnings and endings. I have spent a great many hours reflecting on how my life has changed in a mere twelve months. I have experienced loss as I never imagined - in many different spheres, traveled to the edge of insanity, questioned my nihilism and discovered cynicism, and in some sense found peace, but it's an eerie peace. As though birds singing in the trees after a spring shower suddenly ceased their melodic hymns, replaced by a ringing, uncomfortable silence. Try as I might, I can't seem to find the tangible cause. I suspect that it has something to do with loneliness.

As with any hypothesis, however, I cannot prove my postulation one way or another without controllable circumstances, therefore I am confined to mere conjecture. The overwhelming question preoccupying my mental faculties of late concerns the effects of physical human contact. Why is it that physical contact with others excite the senses so much? Is it the electrical circuit produced between both bodies? Or is it more metaphysical? I'm sure there are countless sources that discuss the physical and psychological effects, but I personally would argue the latter.

From my point of view, I would argue that autophobia, the fear of being alone, is the most common phobia - though I don't think phobia is quite the proper term because it suggests an irrational quality, and I would argue that it is inexplicable, not irrational. Social interaction is an innate humanistic desire, and extended periods of isolation wear down the mind and augment the soul. People do anything and everything to avoid being truly alone. Religions believe in God(s) because to them it means they are not cosmically alone. Society forms clicks for particular demographics, and it despises those it sees as outcasts, loners, and aliens. And people endure loveless relationships because it is preferable to solitude.

In my humble opinion, intimate physical interaction between two people (I'm not just talking about sex) is the antithesis of isolation, and thus the reason we find true happiness in an act as simple as a hug, which I guess brings me back to my situation.

Mentally, I do not mind solitude. I have enough trouble understanding my own thoughts, and effectively sharing them with someone else is often rather difficult for me (as evidenced by my writing - these blogs never turn out on paper as they do in my head). That is not to say I do not thoroughly enjoy good conversations, philosophical debates, and the occasional voracious diatribe.

The more I think about it, the more I come to realize that the lack of physical human contact is likely the cause of my eerie silence. For nearly five years, I was never want for such a thing, but now I have forgotten the pleasant peace that comes from snuggling with someone and waking up next to them in the morning. Wonderland is a cold and lonely place, but the warmth of a companion helps you to find your way back. Without it, you often find yourself wishing you could return to the land of talking caterpillars and an evil queen because at least then you would not be alone.