I Cherish My Solitude

I cherish my solitude; even around people.  Where once the Victorian ethic and the voice of my mother mattered, this compliance to the social will no longer feels necessary.  It is not nerves nor a Raskolnikov experiment that keeps me here, rather your congregation of agitations does not entice me.  Perhaps I am designed differently, or it is that I fell upon different books.  The world is a pantomime; that which it knows secondhand, I cherish in the first.