Between the pages, between the cracks

crackI never feel more alone than I do when I am amongst a crowd.  I’ve always felt that way.  Just out of place with everyone and everything. I don’t stress about it too much.  I figure that’s just what makes me who I am.  And I like who I am.  I enjoy my own company, to be really honest.  But at the same time, there are periods when I want to belong, when I want to be accepted, when I want to be a part of something bigger than just me because sometimes being alone a lot becomes, well….lonely.

I have a very small family and I have very few friends.  Being introverted and, for the most part, very private, it takes a lot for me to let others into my tiny circle.  I don’t care for small talk and anything that is popular in the mainstream usually turns me off.  I’ve always been drawn to the outsiders, the outcasts, everything and anything on the fringe.

Maybe that’s why I was always drawn to writing.  It’s the perfect occupation for an outsider, an outcast and can and often is done on the fringes of society, away from the crowd.  I feel most comfortable when I am alone and writing.  But I sure would love for some of that writing to be read at some point.

Rachel Carson so beautifully wrote about the loneliness of creative work:

“If you write what you yourself sincerely think and feel and are interested in, the chances are very high that you will interest other people as well.”

I like to keep that in mind when I am writing – alone in my head, alone at my keyboard, feeling as though I am sending my thoughts and words out to no one.

If I keep at it, maybe people will eventually read my work.  Maybe my words will resonate somewhere, with someone and maybe, just maybe, I might be accepted and finally find my place amongst that crowd.