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"A man is relieved and gay when he has put his heart into his work and done his best; but what he has said or done otherwise, shall give him no peace. It is a deliverance which does not deliver. In the attempt his genius deserts him; no muse befriends; no invention, no hope."

-Emerson

I'm in the middle of a social breakdown. For long I have shunned the trite social conventions and the pressures associated with them. I had a feeling that I was "better than that," and that that there was something pure and untainted to be found away from the chains of coercive conformity. I became the "smart kid," choosing a life of mind over the dull "freedom" (which is anything but) reinforced by our contemporary American ideology. School became to me an end in itself, not a means for a job. The job was to be something of immediate enjoyment, not an end to make money and support a family. And with choices comes a vague sense of nostalgia, gripping and nauseating, when considering alternate possibilities and different paths; different ways of covering the same ground--some less direct than others.

Recently I've been realizing that all of this has become a liability. There was a gradual breakdown of communication between N. and myself (she's not going to like that I mentioned her here, by the by; but, what is she going to do--stop talking to me again?), and what is left is resentment and anger, mostly on her part. I could not provide what she needed. Others have been pushing me in different directions to support their own ends. Meanwhile, I am virtually unable to work and have developed an acute case of social myopia.

I crave others. I want to go out and interact socially, but when I do I am met with disappointment. People at the bar are too young, too naive, not educated enough for my increasing standards. And as I grow more conversant in the history of ideas, it is just this that then counts against me. I can't relate to ordinary people anymore, preferring the company of dead white guys (mostly German). Ironically, my need to over-educate myself to overcome my insecurities associated with my childhood social isolation has led me, full-circle, back to social isolation. Which begs the question: is this causal attribution justified, or am I the type that is just destined to be alone?

To summarize: I can't work. I'm going stir-crazy. And when I get out, longing for the idea of company of others, I recoil from the actuality.

I hope this too will pass. In the mean time, I need some new people in my life.