Time, it seems has a very peculiar way of moving. There are indeed moments when it creeps so slow that you could literally see your life flashing right before you, second per second. And in other instances, you could be just blinking and suddenly realize that half a year has spent itself away and you know not how on Earth that had happened. I'm pretty there's a psychological (if not also biological) explanation to it. But that's the not the purpose why I'm writing on this afternoon.
I'm alone in my room accompanied by the works of the great composers. Every so often, Mozart would take turns at the piano whilst Bach and Beethoven wait for their turns to shuffle themselves at the given instruments. Quite a conducive environment but perhaps only for myself seeing the others have not decided to step into the room for any longer than a short period necessary to see what I'm up to. Even those who tried, could only stay for so long. But that's alright - I like my solitude every once so often.
It's just the moments when others leave me to my own company in times when I feel for it - is when it does get rather pickling. For the past few days, I had been pouring over Orwell's 1984 (quite a splendid book though I'm only first-quarter in). In the light America's recent announcement in data mining and going through all we deem private - it felt only necessary if not relevant. I cannot presuppose and say that we could have not seen this one coming. After all, we've been endlessly sharing details of our lives on our social networks.
It only takes an intelligent group of body (or maybe just a bored and curious individual) to put two and two together and piece up who you are, what you like and your tendencies. Personally, there's only so much I'd like people to know about myself. It's not about the air of mystery neither is it about retaining a secret identity. But more about preserving of the self. Now, how do I begin?
We all have core values and beliefs. Components that form our identity and how others come to recognize us to be. We allow vignettes of this to exude with expression, be it through any form of medium. Speech, writing, interactions, photos and the list is endless. After all, we're not static human beings. We're designed to express, designed to convey and engage. To a layperson, piecing two and two together would seem an active form of engaging and we'd only do it if for our own benefit. Psychoanalysts would do it subconsciously whilst analyzing behavior and dispensing it for further reference.
Expression is my form of conveying. It's not that I like to talk but neither to I feel to do so unnecessarily. People's first impression of myself would be that I am an enigma, to an extent. Silent and unyielding until I express opinion - that's the tipping point. That's the element of surprise that I always have, I believe. Or so I'd like to believe. Anyway, point of this writing is to just a reminder to myself to not give out too freely on social networks. You'd never know who's watching or listening. It's a pretty dangerous World bordering to paranoia when one thinks about it properly.
I shall now continue with my work.