The Joys of Living Single

More accurately, "The Joys of Living as a Single Old Guy."

Umm...let's see...

It mostly has to do with input and timing. What I eat; when I eat; what movies or TV I watch; when to go to bed, that kind of shit.

Personal hygiene. Still important, but on my schedule, which is very flexible.

Lots of time to ruminate, get ideas and think them through without interruption.
In fact, if I don't seek out interruptions there are none at all. This can be good or bad.
We've all heard the stories of old people who lived alone and were found dead days or weeks after they checked out. "There was a weird smell coming from down the hall, and we finally got the police to check it out. We forgot there was an old guy living there."

This solitude can be inspirational or one can go over the opposite edge and just stare into space for long periods of time, with no particular thought or aim, just sit and stare. That's when a strong cup of coffee is warranted, or maybe some calories, food.

These are things solitary people must be aware of, since there's no one there to say, "I'm hungry; you wanna get something to eat?", or, "Wanna get a few beers?"

Dehydration is a serious concern. So the solitary must maintain an awareness of these things. A few strategically placed mirrors can help. A chance glance at oneself can be a shocking reminder that it's time to eat, or bathe, or get some food. Other bodily functions remind us from the inside out, so usually not a problem, as long as all systems work properly. And remembering to eat, sleep, drink, bathe, helps keep the internals in good working order.

I was a solitary child. Alone, not lonely. I lived in my imagination, but it wasn't wild or far out.
Just alone. I never wanted to deal with the world much, saw little use in the pursuits of sports, competition, participation.

I used to dream of living alone in a cabin in the mountains. I decided all I needed was books to read; television; music; and food (potato chips and milk, mostly). I would be perfectly content with these simple things and no people.

I guess this is as close as I'll come to realizing that dream, and it's really close to what I expected. The major drawback is the trail of lives I attempted to interact with over the years, and the possible damage I did to them.

There was some real damage done, to the Others and to Me, but there was also a substantial exchange of joy and happiness, good feelings and thoughts. Some of those linger, and that's good, that's a good thing. If I had come here to live like this when I was eight or nine it would probably not have worked. I needed to be in the world for a good long time to become equipped to not only deal with isolation, but, in many respects, to embrace it.

This is a phase in my life cycle. It may be the final phase, but there's no way to tell. Any time of any life could be the final phase, that's the mystery of it all.

I don't think this is my ending place or time. I feel somewhere deep inside there's more to come, and the next stop will be as unpredictable and amazing as this has been, and as all the previous phases have been.

Life...goes on...in spite...of...everything...