June 11th, 2005



Because I am an introvert by nature, I don't need to be with others as much as I need to be with myself. When I do need company and I can't phone a friend, I go downtown or to another lively place and watch people. Sometimes I will actually talk to someone. That always feels good, when I can do that. Other times I just watch and absorb, seeing others enjoy the company of their family and friends.

Hiking is a slightly different matter. Hiking with a friend is enjoyable because of the shared experience, an experience that can't be recreated. It's also an opportunity to talk and walk, sometimes with the conversation taking precedence over the route. I love good conversation and have gone months without it.

I like hiking alone for many other reasons: the quiet, which allows me to hear everything. I feel tuned in to the sound of the birds, the skittering of little animals, the cries of insects, the leaves brushed by wind or small animals. And of course water, when I am near it. I allow myself to breathe heavily, something I tend to avoid with others. I see more. My focus is not divided. I smell everything. And I think. Any exercise is a good opportunity for thinking. Hiking leads me to thoughts that are often nature-oriented. Today I was thinking about the distant future, long after I'm gone, when it is possible that the human race will have destroyed itself. I can see the natural world gradually coming back and taking it all again. It may not be the same natural world that we first entered millions of years ago, but it would likely still be beautiful.

Today's hike was a lucky choice: Reservoir Canyon. I walked about 20 minutes out, sat on some rocks overlooking the flowing creek, then returned. Drunk with it. When I pulled into the parking area near the road, at the beginning, there were two other cars there and several people milling about. I heard voices now and then while I was walking but most of the time I was alone. I don't like it when I sense people close to me, behind me. I prefer that they be in front of me.

Pool screamers

I live across from the pool, diagonally. In the summer the pool is very well used. Whenever there are children there - small to teen - it seems like there is one that stands out because he or she screams throughout the time there. There is one there now, screaming hoarsely. At one point I actually heard an adult telling this person, who appears to be a young girl, to go home or be quiet. Yet she still screams. As the summer wears on my nerves fray.

Oh, the addictions.

My sims addiction has taken a turn for the soft underbelly. I am currently going to the home of teens that I can make do bad things so I can get people mad at them...among other things...and I have these thoughts I won't express out loud...a bit deviant...

Other addictions. Some television shows have a heady effect that reaches inside me and pulls out parts of me and I can't let go of them. I feel guilty at the pleasure I get, the deep, moody pleasure, the connection with the screwed-up characters. I suppose one might assume that I go for the guilty television pleasures because I don't have a real life. I suppose that's true. Really.