We like companionship, see, but we can't stand to be around people for very long. So we go get ourselves lost, come back for a while, then get the hell out again.
Sometimes, the most relaxing moment once you enter a room flooded with people is when you leave it. Humans are social creatures. It is as inherent as our need of affection and attention. So people who don't like the idea of socializing don't really fall into the human paradigm and work like the cogs they're supposed to be. They are ungodly.
And yet they exist, walking the same Earth as you. They're the men who don't fit in
. It's not about running away, it's the getting away part that induces them to leave.
It's not about hatred, apathy, or ignorance that drives them away from the world. They want to experience everything, right now. It's a curse of the gypsy blood. They want the strange and the new, but what happens when the world is done with its mysteries and they're done unravelling the lotus of life.
But they get away, and they keep getting away. From people, relationships, friends, people who care and people who don't. They cut the blood supply and let the heart beat itself to death. Your
words can't stop them, you can only hope that they return and nothing much is
changed.
But the prodigal son returns home. And the reward for all his adventures is a giant feast of friends forlorn. And this time the smile, it's ear-to-ear. But with every homecoming, they have different eyes. Glimmering with hope and adventure and experiences experienced. They can only build if they tear the walls down. And then you realize, they're no different than ordinary men. They live in constant conflict and contradiction.
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