[09/23/2025]

    Normally this sort of thing stays inside my book journal.

    I keep lots of journals. Someone could learn more about me through those journals than they could talking to me in person.

    There are things my best friend probably doesn't know about me, and they might be able to understand if they read my stuff.

    The funny thing about it is...I am an open book. I will talk openly about anything. It's just that usually two big factors prevent that kind of talk from ever happening.

    The first is a lack of sufficient time. Everyone is always on the move. They could be gone in the next few minutes, or hours, or days, or months. But it never feels like there's enough time.

    The second factor is interest. Maybe I'm being too harsh, or maybe my world is still just too small. Or both. But I feel like not too many people ask questions. Am I not very interesting? I find myself interesting. I think the things I have to say are very interesting, and my ideas are cool. I think I am fun to be around. I like my own company, and other people seem to like my company.

    I think it would be cool if someone knew a lot about me. There's no point in saying "I wish someone knew everything about me" because that's literally impossible. It's probably better that way. But I wish I could feel "seen." like somebody understands me and has an interest in me.

    But then I am faced with the cold reality that everybody has their own lives already, lives that they've been living at the same time as mine. They don't have time for me, or room for me. I'm sure the demands of modern America have a role to play in that, but it can't be the sole reason. I don't care enough to speculate on the other reasons. Trying to understand the reason things are the way they are occupies a lot of my thought.

    It may be a pointless thing to do so much... There will likely still be no closure. Understanding only brings on more questions. I can't reason my way into not feeling alone.

[End Log]