When you read The Great Gatsby in school for English Literature, you are massively fed the idea that the theme of loneliness WILL MOST DEFINITELY come up on your exam paper. I feel like nowadays the book still translates because we all feel a sense of solitude, like every character does in that book. Whether you're someone who takes comfort in solitary confinement to live vicariously through the people around you, like Nick, or more like Daisy, who sets up false pretences as a social butterfly but in fact finds herself lonely amongst groups of people, because in actuality you're never with the one person you enjoy the company of. No matter which character you relate to, it's all there.
Right now, I would say I'm on Gatsby loneliness levels. Not so much that I would throw a party to parade my wealth in order to feel more loved (because I don't have said wealth), but in the way that I'm a phone call away from some of my favourite people and yet I'd give anything to sit with them and chat for a full 24 hours about the highs and downfalls of our current situations. There's a lot to be said for those people who make you want to talk. And yet no one says anything, because you're just a phone call away, or a text, or a snapchat, or a DM etc. You get the gist.
I think what strikes me as most scary about this kind of loneliness, is that I'm not even in a place where I can find enjoyment in the surroundings of other lonely people. I'm not in a bustling city where everyone on the train is technically alone, but we're still all together as lonely people. I'm just in my house, in my room, cold. And in some ways, even though I had my fun three months being a working woman, it's even harder thinking and sometimes knowing that everyone you want to talk to is out there, living lives that are all the more exciting than yours. Even if it's only a little bit more exciting, like they're only on a bus home after a busy day; at least it's still something.
Being lonely is something I've written a lot about on here if I can remember correctly. It certainly feels like I have. So maybe I'm just a lonely person, maybe I'm just a Gatsby.
Without the parties, the Hotel de Ville house and the manliness that is.
G.
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Saturday 17 February 2018
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Diary
