Seclusion Perpetua

Solitude felt alien these days, but returning to a hermit-like existence owns some perks that having an active social life cannot possibly give. This self-imposed seclusion is to be a permanent thing. I just finished bidding au revoir to my Facebook account after successfully backing up some 2,000 photos with bits and pieces of my timeline. I am not going to miss the social marketplace that made me feel most unsafe about sharing my life’s events.

I know that this move will make me lose some fair-weather friends who only manage to remember my birthday when there is a birthday cake notification on the Facebook interface. But that’s absolutely fine because I am fairly secure with the unshakeable few who will keep in touch with me because they genuinely have my best interests at heart.

As a good friend told me through text, “Your engagement is precious. Step out of the circus.” I, for one, am tired of sustaining social obligations to people who are not really going to be there for the long haul. I am fine with having a few key individuals on my speed dial than be “friends” with the whole world in a rather vicious cycle of online one-upmanship.

One’s life and one’s time on earth is a short and non-renewable resource that we cannot just waste wantonly on undeserving people, things, and endeavors. And this belief holds most true especially in those instances where my and my loved one’s online safety is at stake.

My new lifestyle has opened some doors as much as it has closed some opportunities. In the midst of the obscurity, I wait for the dust to settle and the introspective side of me almost instantly came rushing in full swing.

It takes some getting used to, but we never remain unmoved by hacking incidents. That digital violation transforms a person’s online presence in unprecedented ways. There are no words for being infiltrated online on a personal level. Being attacked using your own social media account is not a thing to be trifled with. I look in disgust at the little security there is online when the shit hits the fan.

But I just know deep inside that it’s all going to turn out okay in the end.

Now that much of the world’s noise has been unsubscribed to, I finally have more time to devote to things I hold sacred and dear. Writing in this blog has not been as fruitful as this for the last couple of years. Because I had been so busy being out and about.

Ironically, I decided to be more outgoing so that I have more materials to write about in the blog. But I got consumed by the adventures that I no longer had the time to pause and write them all down. I let my literary ambitions take a backseat just so I can keep up with what other twenty-something people like me is typically doing. It’s wrong. There’s something about me and writing and it’s special. And it demands my undivided attention.

I slowly but surely accept the fact that I need to make priorities on how I should use my time and who should I give it to. If seclusion perpetua is the way to get me back on track, then I guess it’s not a punishment but a real worthy challenge to adjust myself to.

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