This place was supposed to be a succor for me. I spent the last year roving the different lands of Asia, absorbing as much as I could. HK was supposed to be my last stop, where I was supposed to kick-start my career. Each of the nine days I spent in HK was a day of agony, dejection and disappointment. The claustrophobic cityscape and its extreme money-minded pace of life appeared to be an antithesis of Taiwan - a tiny island with warm welcoming people who had not yet been gutted emotionless by consumerism. I came here again. And then again.
Throughout my travels I kept going through phases where I had to struggle to keep my endorphin levels from falling down. Something would happen every few weeks - a dull morning, an irrational fear of something unknown after a long siesta or just a phase of unsolicited partial anhedonia. I noticed people, and I noticed it was relatively easier for them to be happy.
I am certain of two things that I affect my endorphins boots - a) I am not meant to be doing nothing when alone. Every second I spend on my own relaxing or doing nothing depresses me.
b) Being in motion calms my nerves. Anything from a random midnight saunter to a quick jaunt in a train calms me down. There's something soothing in the state of dynamism, and in the cradling action that galvanizes certain parts of the brain into action.
The only thing that constantly kept making me happy was intense physical activity. After a hiatus of more than seven months, I began programming again. I had not imaged, but I did get a kick out of it. Writing, watching favorite snippets of movies and other similar actions also temporarily gave a rush.
Then I noticed one more thing about people. They thought about other people a lot, very often actually. Most people had fond memories of others they were attached to via companionship or blood kinship. This emotional intimacy certain did trigger a rush of endorphins.
People thought about other people. People thought about things. I just thought about things in my life. Wherever I went, I talked to people, made acquaintances, had interesting conversations once in a while and left the place. Having spent more than four months here in Taiwan, I ended up knowing a lot of people. Maybe it's my blunted affect that disallowed me to form close relationships with anyone.
I am nowhere close to an unsocial droid scuffing away from the society. I love the outdoors. I love the buzz and the bustle of people, which is why I love this place. I program in cafes, student halls or other public places. The loud chatter and white noise I hear when sitting in a pub soothes me. But at the end of the day, all I am left with to occupy my mind is inanimate things.
I notice when people are down or sad or scared, they think of other people. They ring someone up. They talk.
When I am down or sad or scared, I think of things to do. I go running. I make myself so tired that I lose the ability to think.
The gush of endorphins after a long run or an acute physical exertion takes over all other positive or negative feelings. I feel happy. Relaxed. Tired. I go to sleep.
Throughout my travels I kept going through phases where I had to struggle to keep my endorphin levels from falling down. Something would happen every few weeks - a dull morning, an irrational fear of something unknown after a long siesta or just a phase of unsolicited partial anhedonia. I noticed people, and I noticed it was relatively easier for them to be happy.
I am certain of two things that I affect my endorphins boots - a) I am not meant to be doing nothing when alone. Every second I spend on my own relaxing or doing nothing depresses me.
b) Being in motion calms my nerves. Anything from a random midnight saunter to a quick jaunt in a train calms me down. There's something soothing in the state of dynamism, and in the cradling action that galvanizes certain parts of the brain into action.
The only thing that constantly kept making me happy was intense physical activity. After a hiatus of more than seven months, I began programming again. I had not imaged, but I did get a kick out of it. Writing, watching favorite snippets of movies and other similar actions also temporarily gave a rush.
Then I noticed one more thing about people. They thought about other people a lot, very often actually. Most people had fond memories of others they were attached to via companionship or blood kinship. This emotional intimacy certain did trigger a rush of endorphins.
People thought about other people. People thought about things. I just thought about things in my life. Wherever I went, I talked to people, made acquaintances, had interesting conversations once in a while and left the place. Having spent more than four months here in Taiwan, I ended up knowing a lot of people. Maybe it's my blunted affect that disallowed me to form close relationships with anyone.
I am nowhere close to an unsocial droid scuffing away from the society. I love the outdoors. I love the buzz and the bustle of people, which is why I love this place. I program in cafes, student halls or other public places. The loud chatter and white noise I hear when sitting in a pub soothes me. But at the end of the day, all I am left with to occupy my mind is inanimate things.
I notice when people are down or sad or scared, they think of other people. They ring someone up. They talk.
When I am down or sad or scared, I think of things to do. I go running. I make myself so tired that I lose the ability to think.
The gush of endorphins after a long run or an acute physical exertion takes over all other positive or negative feelings. I feel happy. Relaxed. Tired. I go to sleep.
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