Wastelands of Sleep

Topics: introversion, isolation, interaction

2012-06-24

I awoke from a vivid dream. I was living still, for all this time, in the flat on Petra Rezka. I was the only one living there. A space I had never been to before showed itself to me. It was behind a door that I had always taken for a closet in Jeníček's room. My room was abandoned and I lived in one of the strange alcoves beyond that door.

How I knew it was the flat on Petra Rezka, I know not, for it looked nothing like my old home (possibly my happiest home, for my interaction with people was at a maximum on my lifetime). It is obvious, however, that my mind associates that time with high dopamine levels.

Is there a method by which I could test my dopamine levels at the moment? I should use Google to find something adequate. The times like those at Petra Rezka are long gone and I have spent much of my life since then either in isolation or in a cloistered relationship which is akin to isolation. I miss laughing. I miss my friends.

Christopher is in a similar situation, hobbled with girlfriend and child and interminable job. He has more than once expressed his distaste. He has more than once expressed the fact that he has no one to talk to who he can call a friend. I suppose this also means he has no one to laugh with. Fucking New Zealand. I wish I had the means to visit him.

In one week, I shall be with Tony. We'll have a few laughs and a few intense moments, I am sure. Old times may be hinted at, but most likely not reached in dopamine levels.

I need to laugh.

tzifur (Martenblog home)

jenju (Thurk.Org home)

@flavigula@sonomu.club

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