Previously: Pride In Solitude
Just before daybreak a fortnight ago, he thought of ending the flow of monologues on Twitter with a cryptic "Good Night." It was subtle, but deliberate. Knowing the gap of silence barely last a day, he seldom makes it known that he had signed off from the microblog application. This occasion however, he thought of proving something; of showing real evidence that he can cut off his ties with the virtual sphere. So he stood his ground, and suppressed his functions. It's a long shot, he knows, but a necessary move to weed out the dependence. There is no doubt he could not do without social media. He's been talking loudly to himself for the longest time, like others never read his mind.
Hint of his wordlessness took less than a week to take shape. An ebb and flow behavior had turned him from being hermetic to a hyper-social creature. One after the other, he met the boys he had flirted with - or at least, had an intention to get to know on a level that rivals those of his past dates. The results lay in a draw: The first, he accompanied in his weightlifting activity. The second joined him at Time in Manila to go clubbing. The third, he treated at McDonald's. They gobbled French Fries, which he said to be his birthday present to the guy. The last, he met at Today X Future, after the boy said his friends didn't show up and he was drinking alone. The last three, he met in a span of two nights, and for some reasons, the men had turned distant and aloof.
He didn't bother asking for reasons.
These strings of appearances, of prospecting, bore down when faced with the growing reality that he's been left out. Understandably, the circle he has seen grow, is no more. Individuals thought of spending more time with loved ones than going out and catching up with friends. Old flings and hang-out buddies now have their love interests. It is as if everyone's moving on with their lives and he is left with a microblog account to pour his heart out. It makes him look silly. desperate. a loser.
And for the first time, he felt unaccustomed to the solitude. Deep down, the loneliness has made a clear dent on his armor.
This vulnerability, he ought no one has to know. Not the new followers who multiply everyday; not his associates who are not privy to his blog. The sudden shut down, of placing himself off the grid, was made more difficult by his refusal to seek new ways to make contact. There are the gay dating sites he can always use as substitute. So far, he has managed to lay his hands off.
Troubles, for now, remain the least of his needs.
But for how long?
The self-imposed Twitter isolation will remain. Until he has figured how to live within his bubble once more, or until someone or something forces him out of his cocoon. Until then, let this long form confession read the explanation of his absence.
Because as the hours idle by, he knows, this disconnection will not hold ground.
In no way will his humanity let him go on with the seclusion. The question however is where his digital signature will appear next.