Ghost

I guess I'd forgotten the feeling. Maybe I'd never recognized it.

I was sitting in a coffee shop. I was in a town that was basically foreign. There was little chance- an infinitesimally small chance- that I'd seen anyone I knew, or who knew me. It's the feeling you get when traveling alone. A solitude amidst strangers, an odd quiet.

It's a feeling that's like ... freedom. No one knows you. There are no expectations when you're out in the world like that. You can react to anything however you want. You can make friends, ignore everyone, hunker down in a book. You can't do the same thing in the coffee shop in your town. Maybe the barista knows you. Maybe someone you know walks in, tosses a glance in your direction. Then it's ruined. You're back in the persona you've crafted. There are platitudes that must be maintained, general acknowledgement of whatever person recognizes you from a previous dealing.

In transit, in far away space, the rules are thrown out. You're reset. There's no audience, and hence no performance.

It's the same reason I relish time alone in my home.

I'm thinking this feeling is a problem.

I'm thinking this feeling is based on a basic disconnection from others. More importantly, a need to disconnect from others.

Do I always perform?

Why?