Me ,Myself and I in Solitude

I remember when I was at peace with myself, younger then, and more innocent...or perhaps wiser, solitude held no fear for me then. I was content then with my own company. I did not dislike he presence of others, but I did not actively seek out companionship either. I could be found raoaming around the garden, making worlds and creating adventures in my own imagination... perhaps these games were better off without a real and practical friend who may inadvertantly pointed out that all thses situations existed only in my own imagination.

Now I cannot bear my own company. That eternal optimism is gone. That faith that in the end all things will turn out well is gone. In its place are fears that rise up and suffocate at a moments' notice; the fear of falure mostly and disappointment.And therefore do I constantly seek distraction with friends, in music and books, in simply surfing the web... afraid of the dark corners that the mind will turn to if left in solitude; and yet despising in myself the cowardice that fears that which is within me.

I tell myself to be brave, that it is only the imagination that gave me so much joy when I was young , that turns on me now, with the same power that it hs always had, to make me believe in the delusions of my own mind... that the fears are of my own creation as the pleasures were, long ago. And all I have to do is to find the strength of mind to turn my thoughts away... but that strength does not come easily- not when shadows are so overpowering, and the future so clouded. And fearing to look into the uncertain future, I must "live in the present"- and to do that, I must have enough to occupy all my senses, and for this reason I keep myself constantly busy and surrounded by people, but no one is as alone ,as one alone in a crowd.